Lyrics:
New York shit at it's finest
The flow try then/trident, so wet, you can't bite it
I'm so hot you can't burn my CD
But fuck the copyright/copy right?
of past relationships
Are demanding a voice and a place and it fits, so
Come with me I'll take you back to New York City
Me, fresh outta school, and she,
threat
I see your sweat roll down your cheek
And your soft and sweet, your talk is pork
Get murdered in New York when I enforce the heat
And the cost
distorting, bring it down a lil' bit
Okay, now we working with it
The boy Face on the bass line, Face - Mob!
Welcome to New York City, it's ya boy Young Hov'
blankets. I mean, the more I acquired I became more of a prisoner. I mean, you know, forty people on staff, and you can't do nothing, and now creativity is
of New Orleans
Took a golf cart to the Baccarat from the Waldorf
What was on the wall? That depend on what you call art
I'ma say 300k ain't even in
that drink talk
Been going around to different cities
I'm alone by my damn self
I can't lie you know I'm on one
So you know I'm ready to take it there
Sleep
I'm not mad at the nigga but he Weak
And I'm sorry you gone have to taste Defeat
So I'm pusin movin lookin for you b But no New York
When we rocc
I got a lot to do
Know I got a lot to prove
Can't lie I got a lot to lose
Had to put the bottle down cause I ain't drinking no more
I ain't rolling up
Real talk, the inc about to run New York
'Cause there's no real n****z left to hold the torch
Who gon' hold us of, cause you don't read newspaper's
talk, the inc about to run New York
Cause there's no real niggaz left to hold the torch
Who gon' hold us of, cause you don't read newspaper's nigga
Lt
distorting, bring it down a lil' bit
Okay, now we working with it
The boy Face on the bass line, Face - Mob!
Welcome to New York City, it's ya boy Young Hov'
ain’t from New York but on the beat I’m milly rockin'
Hold up drop it for a real one I just need that body rockin’
Yeah my old bitch hit my line I switch
can’t pull a muscle
Niggas cap You ain’t talking bout nothing
Big blue faces, see how I’m 100
Im step, no side stepping, like bunion
Bag chasin. Ain’t
on me
So what your squad gonna do
Lay a hand on me I'll lay a hollow on you
Change hands stab his pockets run his wallet on thru
Every club in new york
Yeah
Don't get murdered on the humble
Welcome to the jungle, nigga
New York City
It's the talk of New York, Tony Yayo
I'm gettin' back
up
Heard about ya claim to fame
You drank the devils cup
Ohhhh! While ya'll was sidelined
I jumped in like it was a double dutch
New York nigga raised
on the selfie you’ll never see the Savior
The first will be last and the least will be greater
Took some humble pie to knock me off my pedestal
The ranks change
now before they come take it from me
Never catching feelings because you know that you're the villain nigga
And I ain't felt shit in a long time sorry
them niggas tried to blaze 'em up
In New York they like, "Damn, Gator really spitted on 'em"
"You heard that shit?" "Yeah, Lola really shitted on 'em"
hustle everyday
Trying to complete this mission, promises that I made
Weighing heavier by the day, can't tell you how many times I cry
That's why I brush
my grandma, she was humble and sweet (grandma)
I don't speak, let the check talk for me (check, woo)
I can't sleep 'less the TEC in my reach (TEC)
ion want none of that
I be taking trips up to space, one day I might go up to that bitch and I ain’t comin' back
Coming up in here you gotta come with
about it
Do you hear me y'all
Yea I know I got it
Like John gotti
I'm all profit
I walk the talk
And you can't stop it
I hustle hard
Can't knock it, v
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