Chi Town Taurus

Lyrics

American Made (Updated 2-19-22)

I’m a Gangster... I’m a Hustler... I’m everything that you made me... I was Made in America... ain’t no Wonder they Hate Me... I’m a Gangster... I’m a Hustler... I’m American Made... Straight up out the Penitentiary... No Industry Grade...




V.1
I’m a Gangster... I’m a Hustler... I’m everything you made me... now I’m Accustomed... if you talk about Enslavin Me...

It’s kind of Like you Shot your own self in the Foot... so when you callin me a Nigger... you must not know how you look...

Why these Crackers got it in for me... I’m American Made... all Michael No Jordans... my Nikes don’t ever Fade...

Why they treat me like I’m N-Y-C... Dialo or Louima... I’m a Hunid Percent Hampton... All Fred No Neeena...

All Guage... with the Hoover Clip... Straight Geeno and Fort... that means I rock with all mine from the West to the North...

From the East to the South... I’m the Beast known to put a forty five in your Mouth...


The one they all love... like a Kiss as a Kid... that Jadakiss kind of Lyrics... all Nas... No Pigs...


Home Schooled... mama mentioned Physical Violence... went upside my Head with Broom Sticks that was Physical Guidance...

Ass whippins use to prep me... Heavy handed or Clever... Got me ready for Dispersin.... Squeezin down on the Lever...

Did my homework... Home-icide and Home Detention... home Invasions much Safer than Bein Darius Simmons...


Trained me First handed... got my hands on some Grub... money grubbin... yea I’m Hustlin... came up outta the Mud...

Gut wrenchin... circumstances... dark Horse in the Room... surprised I never joined Al Quida... Sunt this Bytch to the Moon...



I’m a Gangster... I’m a Hustler... I’m everything that you made me... I was Made in America... ain’t no Wonder they Hate Me... I’m a Gangster... I’m a Hustler... I’m American Made... Straight up out the Penitentiary... No Industry Grade...



V.2
I’ll give you a Reason to Grimace... (Dope Trade)... I’m a Product of America’s Premise... (Gun Play)...

I’m a Gunman... I came up eyein the Gun Trade... Big Nuts and Dope Packs... that’s Life in the Slum Trade...

Ill-Fated... my Street Image... illustrate somethin to you... an Ill Treated lil Homey... he gone Say Somethin to you...

House Wife or Girlfriend... I ain’t found One yet... my Cash House on the Corner ain’t Done Countin up Yet...

oGs Gave Me Wisdom... and a Drink on the House... you think they Ever finna Let your Mans... T-Fly Out...

You know my Habitat growing Up... you Hustled or Struggled... they spend enough to Bury you... to Build a New Space Shuttle...


Dolla Bills and Dead Presidents... Government Paper... Everything they use to Justify... why the Government Rape You...

Hold your Horses... Leslie Stall and Sixty Minutes’ll Show You... Crackers only find the time for Politics that Ignore you...

A black life Lost it’s Value... since you ain’t Pickin Cotton... they actin like Since they some Yuppies you can’t tell that they Rotten...

Like cuz they Democrats... you don’t know they Started the Klan... like you don’t know they just Bluffin when they Say you the Man...

How you do the Homeys Wrong... that Stay Blessed like Us... Dark Star tryna Shine... Rep and Dress like Us...

Pop the Glove Compartment... Title... Reparations and Pistol... I Got my License… to Give them Jakes an Early Dismissal...



I’m a Gangster... I’m a Hustler... I’m everything that you made me... I was Made in America... ain’t no Wonder they Hate Me... I’m a Gangster... I’m a Hustler... I’m American Made... Straight up out the Penitentiary... No Industry Grade...



V.3
(Blockades) at the Stop Lights... I’m lookin at Ten... task Force trucks... they tryin to turn me into a Has Been...

Hawaiian Shirts... and Tan Khahis... DeTex gettin Happy... Hawaii Five-O... plottin Out... How to Entrap Me...

Escape Route... dash through the Wind and Glide Right Through... or young homey Trayvon... I’d have died like you...

Hush money... crackers throw them Pussy Boys in Congress... they’ll watch a Cracker hack you up... and then deliver a Promise...

Meant to Broaden your Horizons... I’m immune to it Now... the Bull Sheezy steady Hemorrhagin... confusing me Now...

Why they wearin Hot Pants... ass out like Bytches... Went and Kilt the Golden Goose... and then protect these Snitches...

I can’t tell if you Black or havin a Sissy attacks... got my Fire Arm... cuz ain’t nobody Watchin my Back...

I’m on a Creep Move... I’m a Gangster... Records all Back to the Eighties... I spit a Thirty Eight... And lean back up in the Mercedes...

Public Housing... and Police Raids... home Of the Brave... yea I’m a Gangster... I’m Built Tough Enough... to Stroke on My Grays...

So all you Frito Lays should Chip Count... I’m still in the Runnin... naaa... I don’t turn the Other Cheek... Salute to Lauren or London...

I pay respects it’s Cuz she One of Us... American Breed... you don’t like that I don’t spread my ass Cheeks... Bytch Please...

I’m a Gangster... I’m Exactly what America Made... I’m the Breakfast... Lunch and Dinner... Dark Meat... No Shade...



I’m a Gangster... I’m a Hustler... I’m everything that you made me... I was Made in America... ain’t no Wonder they Hate Me... I’m a Gangster... I’m a Hustler... I’m American Made... Straight up out the Penitentiary... No Industry Grade...