Lyrics:
at the mouth but
Can they walk the walk?
Yo, I live in New York and
That's the city that never sleeps
It's where dirty deeds get done dirt-cheap
And I creep down
[Babs]
Yeah, Brooklyn New York, stay focused
Its ya girl, Babs Bunny, the streets first lady
Diddy I see you baby
Yall niggas done met ya match
I'm
a polish
Will you sing!
Right!
Who wants to live in New York?
Who wants the worry, the noise, the dirt, the heat?
Who wants the garbage cans
And the only reason I'm talking 'bout it
Is so you know the real talk
Of New York's about it i'm with a bitch
With a tight ass that shakes
Her suck game will one
and you fry in my iron furnace
I am on my get rich or die tryin' like when Em was signin' Curtis
'Cause I am murderous
Joe Budden, Jersey City, New
Right now with the situation gettin' better
So I'm doin' you things, holla
Yeah, 50 Cent, uh huh, check me outt
Now piece by piece we put it all
it, I'm thuggin My street slang, my penitentiary posture Got me out sellin niggaz whole fuckin rosters I'm big in New York, like B.I.G. Plus I runs with
(Juice)
Allow myself to introduce myself
This is Tony, the talk of New York
I'm holdin' the belt i got thug in my blood
(Blood) , game like a pimp (Pimp)
Der Deutsche reiht sich ein und sprengt den rahmen wie kann das sein?
Ich piss der Welt ins Gesicht roll einen dicken Joint und schreib nen Reim
Marshel
line like private events in airports
And live by the code I'mma bust mine
Word, tunes, start shorty while I got a tongue in my ear
Don't get a stain
Okay, New York, New York
Skepta, Jme (Boy Better Know)
This is grime scene
Hold tight my mum still, big up mum
Yeah, listen
I want a 100% not fifty
You on da porch bih I'm in da streets bih I'm fina go live I'm fina go live I'm fina go live I'm fina go live.
You can catch me in da strip club
When I’m in Miami when I’m in Atlanta
The radio sound like I’m in Miami
When I’m in New York
The radio sound like I’m in Miami
So you feel like now,
let me in
YouknowwhatI'msayin?
Yo, yo, yo
I got fifty Bentley's in the West Indies
(It doesn't matter!)
I got a pocket full of cheese
let me in
YouknowwhatI'msayin?
Yo, yo, yo
I got fifty Bentley's in the West Indies
(It doesn't matter!)
I got a pocket full of cheese
the problems
She ont care bout smog, she got niggas that solve em
She fly to LAX, wit 29 cents in her checkin
God damn what is this flexin? livin life with no
Fake niggas throw shit in they drinks
Club nights we snatch linx politic, Africans and Chinks
While World of Sport niggas snort coke by the seconds
like me, I want 'em to love me like they love Pac
But holla at New York, tell ya, I'm loco
And the plan is to put the rap game in a chokehold
I'm fully
in Hollywood cause I remember when I had 50 Cent, up In Da Club
All my life I knew I was major, I don't need no major
I don't even write rhymes, I
my shoes, made it even worse. I worked in an environment where you're judged by your shoes. You dare not wear scuffed shoes. You dare not wear
this is
It's 50 Cent bitch, G-Unit
Aw nigga don't trip
I come through your hood, stunting in my yellow Lam'
Murcielago, top down, nigga damn
I'm
know I'm hard to get to
Hype like New York Electric Zoo
Play the Strokes like Machu Picchu
Took my tab, then I got in tune
Went to China, spill
line like private events in airports
And live by the code I'mma bust mine
Word, tunes, start shorty while I got a tongue in my ear
Don't get a stain
in New York or down in the south
I'm out in the trap with gold in my mouth
They booked me for the clubs in the hood
Where niggas scared to go but
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