Lyrics:
DiDi, try to swap drug for TV's
Stores run out of baking soda from BK to QB
My niggaz die for the cause, .45 on the drawer
City laws made by Big Nas
you get what you get
Yeah nigga, pistol to your ear nigga
Have my big homie kill your lil' nigga
We heard the bricks comin' on the boat
We
front (okay)
Shawty got a big ol' butt, oh yeah
(Ayy, Wale) woo
Bounce, bounce, bounce, fool, I put the city on
Bounce, bounce, bounce, fool, then I
do Sanaa Lathan
Fire Satan, God body, I got the choir hatin'
Rich and rude, plus my lifestyle is ravishing
Laying wood on your wife
I swear it's
(you'ont believe your ears)? And you'ont believe your eyez (you'ont believe your eyez)?
Ain't see me comin' (ain't see me comin')? Caught ya by surprise (by
With television, Dreamcast, dvds
Nice sounds, buttons, it's twenties
I'm a Cash Money Hot Big Tymer nigga
That'll hold a pinky finger up and blind ya
With television, Dreamcast, dvds
Nice sounds, buttons, it's twenties
I'm a Cash Money Hot Big Tymer nigga
That'll hold a pinky finger up and blind ya
to you spit your rap someone else wrote
Used to get beat up by the big kids
Used to let the big kids steal my big wheel
And I wouldn't do shit but just
too sweet, on top, put a cherry (ayy, ayy)
Dick so big that I fucked your bitch (why? ayy, yeah)
And I made her bleed like her name Kerry (ayy, ayy,
sometimes man ridiculous
Life can be sometimes ridiculous
I'm so appalled Spalding ball
Balding Donald Trump, takin' dollars from y'all
Baby your fired,
City girls just seem to find out early
How to open doors with just a smile
A rich old man
And she won't have to worry
She'll dress up all in lace
City girls just seem to find out early
How to open doors with just a smile
A rich old man
And she won't have to worry
She'll dress up all in lace
need a few raps when you comin with cheese
And the people you come up with, they be comin to me
We got the city under siege
Where the tightest ladies
called, Edutainer
You'll find the law of balance on the two turntables
So look out for the FRESH Edutainer label
[KRS-One]
Biddi-by-by, by
hands
Just did a stick-up, just got picked up
One dead punk, killed by the man
New York New York big city of dreams
And everything in New York
Racks on racks comin up up
All this clout comin up up
Got your girl comin up up
Whole team comin up up
Cant block my blessings
I talk to god in
be bothered by bitches that see me get rich and act different, Lil Bitch
I-I-I can't say sorry I'm making it big and I'm really not listening, Bitch
take off them twenties and put them big 23's on
Watchin' the latest DVD's with the TV's on
It's hot AC in winter can turn your heat on
You hear them
hands
Just did a stick-up, just got picked up
One dead punk, killed by the man
New York New York big city of dreams
And everything in New York
to pick up Joyce, she be making me moist
Giving me head while she humming, she can play with her voice
And she got nice thighs, a big plump ass
She could
ain't no fuckin' rapper (woo)
He say he get them 'bows for cheap, ooh, he a big capper (why you cap?)
'Cause every time I ask him where they at, he
other New York rappers
Jay-Z of Hawaiian Soapy fame, Big Little whatever
And several other corny sounding motherf***ers
are understandably shaken up by
Razah:
You can't stop the reign, you can't stop the reign, no
When it starts to fall, when it starts to fall
Shaq Diesel:
R.I.P. B.I.G.
From your
to take a nigga soul away, beg your pardon
Big body Rolls give me road rage
Swervin' in an Aston Martin, nigga, beg your pardon
Heard somebody said I
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