Song Lyrics

Yo, it's corrupt where I'm from, Edmonton, tough
The streets could speak about the heads with drugs, rough
City life will leave you red with blood
Punched holes in the wall, then they fed the thugs lunch
After they rocked the party in a literal sense
Sedimentary propensity, they hit the kid on the lips
Shit, you could could be on Whyte Ave havin' the time of your life
Then you get your arm broken by a random cab driver, ask Katie
The nightlife is mad crazy
When a drunk tries to steal your car, he was trying to play me
But I didn't let him, we peeled off quick
Then we parked at IGA to break the seals off the lid
Don't generalize, you must think and wonder
Why I drink 40's and memorize Bus-Link numbers
Well, I don't have a license, but I'm trying to gain prominence
'Cause I'm living in a house with a fridge full of condiments

See me on the bill
Better follow me there
I solemnly swear
I'll make it back to Oliver Square

So I'm drunk at the Funky Pickle, nothing difficult
Came out with just napkins, it was something pitiful
Currently unemployed but I depend on my friends
To contend with my impending impulse to spend
So I let Jan cover my pitchers at The Strat
'Til I get a little bit richer from this rap
But I digress, to these cherries in the rear-view
RCMP check for drunks on a steer through
Yeah, I take the 7 off 82nd to get to Jasper
So I can hit New City with the electro clashers
And Dub Thursdays, at Savoy, I spit wordplay
To chicks I want suited like their birthday in the worst way
See me at Victory, don't ask to see the skill
I'm sick of fanboys more obnoxious than Peter Hill
More robotic than Bill Smith
I come with the ill shit, still good
More dangerous than Mill Woods

See me on the bill
Better follow me there
I solemnly swear
I'll make it back to Oliver Square

I need to listen like records, y'all oughta get dismissed
On the wake up, I tend to politic with Kris
Don't stick your nose up just cause the sick flows up
Like if you go to a show to might see Nik Kozub
Like if I'm on the mic, you better get froze up
'Cause I cut aluminum like a bus station smoker
Anyway, we tend the Black Dog it on Tuesdays
Any crew with useless talk, don't give a f*ck what you say
Better lay low if connected to lame prose
I might hit you with a Stella bottle at Halo
Ugly chicks at The Armory, talk sweet, how coy
Girl, I don't wanna be seen in you like Cowboys
And I don't rap for free, not one dirty rhyme
Even if she'll go downtown like the 135
Lamping real pretty, don't care what rapping can get me
I'm just letting y'all know, I'm from Champion City

See me on the bill
Better follow me there
I solemnly swear
I'll make it back to Oliver Square

From Mill Woods to the Westend
Ask anyone of my best friends
You know what it is

Roland Pemberton