NY State of Mind

J Period, NasBuy this song

Yeah yeah aiyyo black it's time (word?) 
 (Word it's time nigga?) 
 Yeah it's time man (aight nigga begin) 
 Yeah straight out the fuckin dungeons of rap 
 
 Where fake niggaz don't make it back 
 I don't know how to start this shit yo now 

 Rappers I monkey flip em with the funky rhythm I be kickin 
 Musician inflictin composition 
 of pain I'm like Scarface sniffin cocaine 
 Holdin a M-16, see with the pen I'm extreme, now 

 Bulletholes left in my peepholes 
 I'm suited up in street clothes 
 Hand me a nine and I'll defeat foes 
 why'all know my steelo with or without the airplay 

 I keep some E&J, sittin bent up in the stairway 
 Or either on the corner bettin Grants with the celo champs 
 Laughin at baseheads, tryin to sell some broken amps 
 G-Packs get off quick, forever niggaz talk shit 

 Remeniscing about the last time the Task Force flipped 
 Niggaz be runnin through the block shootin 
 Time to start the revolution, catch a body head for Houston 
 Once they caught us off guard, the Mac-10 was in the grass and 

 I ran like a cheetah with thoughts of an assassin 
 Pick the Mac up, told brothers, "Back up," the Mac spit 
 Lead was hittin niggaz one ran, I made him backflip 
 Heard a few chicks scream my arm shook, couldn't look 

 Gave another squeeze heard it click yo, my shit is stuck 
 Try to cock it, it wouldn't shoot now I'm in danger 
 Finally pulled it back and saw three bullets caught up in the chamber 
 So now I'm jetting to the building lobby 

 and it was filled with children probably couldn't see as high as I be 
 (So whatchu sayin?) It's like the game ain't the same 
 Got younger niggaz pullin the triggers bringing fame to they name 
 and claim some corners, crews without guns are goners 

 In broad daylight, stickup kids, they run up on us 
 Fo'-fives and gauges, Macs in fact 
 Same niggaz'll catch a back to back, snatchin yo' cracks in black 
 There was a snitch on the block gettin niggaz knocked 

 So hold your stash until the coke price drop 
 I know this crackhead, who said she gotta smoke nice rock 
 And if it's good she'll bring ya customers in measuring pots, but yo 
 You gotta slide on a vacation 

 Inside information keeps large niggaz erasin and they wives basin 
 It drops deep as it does in my breath 
 I never sleep, cause sleep is the cousin of death 
 Beyond the walls of intelligence, life is defined 

 I think of crime when I'm in a New York state of mind 
 
 New York state of mine [Repeat: x 4]

 Be havin dreams that I'ma gangster -- drinkin Moets, holdin Tecs 
 Makin sure the cash came correct then I stepped 
 Investments in stocks, sewein up the blocks 
 to sell rocks, winnin gunfights with mega cops 

 But just a nigga, walking with his finger on the trigger 
 Make enough figures until my pockets get bigger 
 I ain't the type of brother made for you to start testin 
 Give me a Smith and Wessun I'll have niggaz undressin 

 Thinkin of cash flow, buddah and shelter 
 Whenever frustrated I'ma hijack Delta 
 In the P.J.'s, my blend tape plays, bullets are strays 
 Young bitches is grazed each block is like a maze 

 full of black rats trapped, plus the Island is packed 
 From what I hear in all the stories when my peoples come back, black 
 I'm livin where the nights is jet black 
 The fiends fight to get crack I just max, I dream I can sit back 

 and lamp like Capone, with drug scripts sewn 
 Or the legal luxury life, rings flooded with stones, homes 
 I got so many rhymes I don't think I'm too sane 
 Life is parallel to Hell but I must maintain 

 and be prosperous, though we live dangerous 
 cops could just arrest me, blamin us, we're held like hostages 
 It's only right that I was born to use mics 
 and the stuff that I write, is even tougher than dice 

 I'm takin rappers to a new plateau, through rap slow 
 My rhymin is a vitamin, Hell without a capsule 
 The smooth criminal on beat breaks 
 Never put me in your box if your shit eats tapes 

 The city never sleeps, full of villians and creeps 
 That's where I learned to do my hustle had to scuffle with freaks 
 I'ma addict for sneakers, twenties of buddah and bitches with beepers 
 In the streets I can greet ya, about blunts I teach ya 

 Inhale deep like the words of my breath 
 I never sleep, cause sleep is the cousin of death 
 I lay puzzle as I backtrack to earlier times 
 Nothing's equivalent, to the new york state of mind 

 New York state of mind [Repeat: x 4] 
 ("Nasty Nas" --> cut and scratched 8X

Written by: CHRISTOPHER E MARTIN, WILLIAM GRIFFIN, ERIC BARRIER, NASIR JONES

Lyrics © Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Universal Music Publishing Group

Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind

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"NY State of Mind Lyrics." Lyrics.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2016. Web. 4 Dec. 2016. <http://www.lyrics.com/lyric/11500287>.

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NY State of Mind