Letter To The City 2 - Tory Lanez

Soon as you hear this verse, I’m out the record deal

Exceeded twelve albums, four years, and that’s a record still

Hand to the sky like Emmett Till off the steppin' wheel

And minus all the sex appeal, your boy about to flex for real

Rolls-Royce Cullinan, four-doors 'cause my son in it

I’m drivin' down the Gardiner, Toronto, home city

With two tings that I partnered up, playin' putter and possum

Then I puff with my girls like Buttercup with a Blossom

Excessive needs for pussy, power, and SUVs

That drop us to the back-door entrances, stress relief

And no less, indeed, the shooters is pressin' like refugees

And the fee at the entranceway too high just to let 'em free

What can’t alarm me is whose crew’s finna harm me

My little dudes move like new recruits in the army

And all they see is food, shrimps, scallops, and calamari

I gallivant at a Barbie while they gather back at your party

Uh, should let the women I fuck raw and unprotected

Like, fuck, if you get pregnant, I’ll keep it

Keep a secret, only in town for a week, and I’m

Datin' women knowin' I’m cheatin' for foreign reasonin'

Fuck y’all niggas throwin' y’all beef in, I’m goin' vegan with Heaven’s timin'

Shootin' and set designin', they’re movin' like I sold ten million records in

record timin'

I did, then I kept on climbin'

I started at 90 Orenda, plays and private agendas

Tryna get fly, but niggas tried and I kindly reject 'em

They ran my name through the mud, but I’m finally respected

This here out of the plan, this more of a God purpose

This here out of my hands, this’ll never feel like 2012

Signin' to Sean Kingston for clout and advance

I’m still proud of that man, know I fell out from his hands

He didn’t do me worse than — and all of his friends

Them niggas out of this world, they came out of the sands

I’m still 'bout it, my mans

Thought this shit was mad love 'til I see my album advance

They took radio from me, I stayed proud of my stance

I kept slappin' the world with hits like I powdered my hands

I would’ve been ten times bigger if — wasn’t bein' bitter and doubtin' my chance

Threatenin' to shelf my whole career for five years

As if he wasn’t takin' money from out my advance

I got out by chance

Them nights was like the Super Bowl, watchin' out from the stands

God don’t make things happen by chance

And it’s some things you gon' have to experience

I’m dappin' up the border officer passin' the clearance

He always makes a corny joke 'bout my rapper appearance

Then I do a fake laugh that he catches like pass interference

I fly back into Paris

Blunt smoke ash on my terrace

My competition’s just a empty-ass class full of chairs

Talkin' to myself, it’s lonely, minus the fact that I’m here

I’m tryna see all of my niggas blossom

Mariah sellin' shows, Coachella her first year

And minus all the times we disagree, I’m still here

Pierre, Papi Yerr 'bout to be a whole millionaire

Davo comin' out the cut with a chick with Sicilian hair

Mansa droppin' next month, you niggas should be in fear

Watchin' Melii do the numbers like she runnin' track and field

Plus we just got Kaash in here

And it’s all Umbrella army on full attack mode, for real

New Toronto 3, I’ll leave it at that

And ain’t nobody fuckin' with me, folk, I’ll keep it at that, yeah

The next move is goin' fully independent

And any label offer under hundred mill' is just offensive

I promise