Lyrics:
known as Brooklyn
New York, New York are you ready?
Staten Island
New York, New York Are you ready?
And Manhattan
Yo, yo
Through the thick of this
Real as they come
Like Adidas wit' shell toes
Their place in this space as fake as the faces on Melrose
Fuck it, these muppets love it
They mumble
Here in this big city many people come and go
But my love, we two, are a permanent thing
Like a bird on the wing
Or the coming of spring
Just
on it
Got the ops praying all day, like islamic
This gun ain on safety I’m ready to pop it
This glocky my baby it’s not up for adoption
Bag it up put it
people singin the hook
Got bitches buggin like how niggas be wild in the brook
Look, we street niggas, while you live by the book
Funny nigga, ain't no
Yeah, yeah, uh-huh, throw your hands in the air, throw your hands in the air
(They can't see him walking through the darkness)
Like this y'all, like
a trance
It's somethin' funny made by me and it's called the Biz Dance
I think the way I do it is so unique
By the way I move my hands, hip,s legs
Tired of these rappers, tired of these jackers
I'm tired of these dances by these fuckin' backpackers
And I'm sick of all these hipsters, I'm sick
well
We are some partying mothafuckas"
Tired of these rappers
Tired of these jackers
I'm tired of these dances
By these fucking backpackers
And I'm sick
Canada
They can balance and they can climb
Like their fathers before them
They'll walk the girders of the Manhattan skyline
Shine your light on me Miss
Ben
Hello Ben, this is Mr. Shaggee. Do you like George Ranch High School?
Ugh, no
Ben
Do you like chemistry class?
No
Hatin' on these raps?
No
on a hot summers day
I wanna serve up the truth like its pink lemonade
CHORUS
So If you're wondering why I
Continue to try my
Skills at this rap game
Girl,
ain't all it's cracked up to be
The hover craft's cool but the air's so putrid
You can tell by the stench in the air
Blood's on the ground,
Bobby got leukaemia, 14 years old
He looked like 65 when he died
He was a friend of mine
Those are people who died, died
Those are people who died, died
the A Train
Even farther than Harlem to northern Manhattan and maintain
Get off at 181st, and take the escalator
I hope you're writing this down, I'm gonna
all ages
But it will make you go out like gorillas in cages
I used to sing songs myself but now I can't
I need the party people to help with this
Yeah here we go just go with the flow
I want to say something about this girl I know
She tried to play me out though check it out
This I
Digital, Childish Gambino
Mixtape demonstrations
This Oxycontin carbon monox'
And toxic concoction
Collapse your brain cells
They swell from lack
Mmm mmm, yeah
Oh I like this
I wanna tell this story
A little story about umm
A brother who you would think has everything goin' for himself
But
that's what I like, that's what I like
Sex by the fire at night
Silk sheets and diamonds all white
Lucky for you, that's what I like, that's what I like
Yeah, check check, testing
It's clear out there? Yeah
It's like I'm hang gliding over the hood, ha
Never worry (ohhh, no, no, no)
Check, let
Ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh
Five drinks in on Friday night
We only came to dry your eyes
And get you out of your room
Now this bar has closed its doors
I
[Ruk:]
Ill Will...yeah yeah yo...Queensbridge niggas...crud love baby..
[Verse 1: Ruk]
Aiyo, I zone out
feelin' like I'm in Capone's house
starin'
Lucky for you, that's what I like, that's what I like
Sex by the fire at night
Silk sheets and diamonds all white
Lucky for you, that's what I like
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