Lyrics:
Put a 3.5 in the Backwood
Skrt, skrt GTI under the black hood
Ex calling, don’t disturb like 6LACK would
New girl in the whip take it back good
(you're my kind of girl, no diggity)
Hey oh, hey oh, hey oh, hey oh (hey yay oh)
'Cause that's my peeps and we row g
Flyin' first class from New York
come around my blunt
Grimey and gritty New York City's top gun
First nigga act up gets a hot one
B-P-V the bottom and top done
I get there, I gets
Lamborghini mercy's and diablas
Rolls Royces, Mercedes Benz, and bombers
In the beemer I go bonkers
Maybe hit up New York visit Yonkers
Roaches in the bong
rankin
Top celebrity, top celebrity, hoo-hah, ha-hah!
Top celebrity, top celebrity, top celebrity rankin
I'm the one Jamal-Ski dem from New York
movin'!
We can keep the club jumpin' till daylight
From New York to L.A. through the Bay; right?
Back up to back up in the mix like that (yeah!)
And I
of love, dope shit, attemptin contemplation on
Uniquely woven and continuously flowin intricately sewn into
The fabric of the nation New York City keep
stations I own
Give every girl a New York a cellular phone
Interstate highway controller 22 thousand cars on the freeway
Co-signer by myself, under me one
finally did, he looked good
Well, better
He told me he was leaving New York
He was gonna start over again - in St Thomas
And just like that, it's Beckett
as hell surrounded by bombshells
Careful as I get near'em, stand near and compare 'em
Or all girl heir 'em, I'm the man with the serum
Assets,
That the flower's killing me
With my intuition in remission
I gathered my guitar, got into my car
And left town for New York
I couldn't let Daisy
New York the city itself was stress depression
High boots and urban beats that wasn't my direction
Producers filtering join in with R&B
lights, fame, money
You, wanna, take it, from me
I, say, you can't, do that
New, phone, who this, yo who that (yeah)
Vice City
Flashing lights, come
passin' niggas around like a game of ball
This is my third felony plus my third strike
Man I ain't goin' home I got 25 to life.
Qu new york, you try
in a new apartment
Always wanna change with the times
Number one best seller on the New York Times
But my childhood was riddled with crime
Widdled
I gotta close the window before I record
Cause New York don't know how to be quiet
Coogi down to the socks like I'm biggie poppa
Keep your girl
(you're my kind of girl, no diggity)
Hey oh, hey oh, hey oh, hey oh (hey yay oh)
'Cause that's my peeps and we row g
Flyin' first class from New York
I'm from Brooklyn, New York City
I be the Earth motherin', smotherin' MC's
Sha Queen covering 360 degrees
See I blow like
come outside, that's all they rap about
'Cause they never did nothin'
We from New York, more importantly, Brooklyn
Word
And, and we from the era
getting hot, combat… Going deeper inside just like a wombat
But nowadays things are sad and things are dreary
Cause Kegel’s stuck over in New York City
[Black Rob - almost mumbling]
They said that I'm a Rottweiler
And I'm from the Rottweiler house, the Rottweiler New York
[G-Dep]
Really, get
[Black Rob - almost mumbling]
They said that I'm a Rottweiler
And I'm from the Rottweiler house, the Rottweiler New York
[G-Dep]
Really, get
the world, And i'm livin your lie
I smile at the girls, But I'm dying inside
Where do i begin? New York city, The place that has become my friend
I've
was Diddy
When it came to the music then she got real picky
From New York, but preferred 2Pac over Biggie
No disrespect to Ms. Wallace, but she liked
Discuss these girl from new york city by tom jones Lyrics with the community:
Report Comment
We're doing our best to make sure our content is useful, accurate and safe.
If by any chance you spot an inappropriate comment while navigating through our website please use this form to let us know, and we'll take care of it shortly.
Attachment
You need to be logged in to favorite.
Log In