Lyrics:
Way back in New York town
There was a girl who would come around
Every night and every morning
Never looking for something boring
She's Alright,
Under the New York City, New York city lights
She's dead now
Oh my fuckin' God, man
The motherfucker killed her
The 35 year -old victim was found dead
And ain't nothin' wrong with standing still and relax
And spendin' some of that cash that Uncle Sam is gonna tax
A New York demeanor, sit back in the beamer
in the state of New York
Gettin' a thousand for a show but you still want to squawk
Can't get a decent contract, your beats ain't workin'
love you)
All, baby girl, I'd trade it all
Even give up my good green (harmony)
All, and I'd give the watch and pinky ring (is you by my side)
All,
nigga, I'm just on steroids
I got pretty New York City bitches, I'm like they A-Rod
Psychedelic flow, smokin' kush by the pound
Got some girls in my
Bronx
The whole a New York baad mon
Me rump amongst the best of dem
Shine pon di rest of dem
Simi shimmy bullets plenty
Shower pon di flesh of dem
Baad
you, New York fitted and gold cross
To the Rover, holster, over the shoulder
I'm the sickest thing spitting in a while
Your plane ain't the same, it's
style
You might get looted, executed black mob style
From east new york back to ft. green
Brooklyns' classic mystical magic scene
We are plush like
first moved to New York
I was a teenager it was 1979 and New
York was a very scary place in the
First year I was held at gunpoint
Raped on a rooftop with
Cali that I got straight out the Valley
But in New York City
Your hustle means everything
We could cruise the town lay back in a Maybach
While we sip
running for President."
"Live from New York, it's Saturday Night."
"Elvis Presley died today at Baptist Hospital in Memphis."
"John Lennon was
blow me away (yeah, yeah)
New York City, stand up (yeah, yeah)
New York City, stand up
Yeah, yeah, yeah
This that Nas
That ZaZa
That New York
Nothing matters anymore
And that's the secret to New York
Broadway in my brain
The corner where my dreams became mistakes
It was written all over your face
fucking lonely
But ignore every text I get
I don't need your pity
Barely a dot on the map but I'll pretend it's New York City
Fascinated by girls twice
survive staying on my grind
I shine time after time the New York Times
Not about gangs but will throw up some gang signs
High as a kite what I used to be
about this New York New York money.
Girl you need a better man straight stuck with that old dummy.
Me rip it up so good that are leave for nose running.
to be a player, couldn't be trusted
But still in all, I never got busted
Knowin' every part of New York City
I thought it was fun, it used to look
of her eighteen years and the story was widely told
That she could smoke 'em faster than anyone could roll.
Her legend finally reached New York, that
a big log
Pablo's feeling better now
Hanging by his finger nails
Well some people try to pick up girls
They get called assholes
This never happened
won't do
To get a New York Disney smile from you
Ow, you're so beautiful it hurts
Ow, the most beautiful girl I ever
Ow, too beautiful for words
Yeah, you can be my carry on,
You can be my carry on.
From New York to LA, Miami to Chicago
You can be my carry on and go wherever I go.
'Cause I know
very impressed by
The viscosity of the environment
In his new album, "New York, and why
I think it is bitchin" bob Garder
Disguised as an elderly surf
to bear arms"
And, honestly, from that point on, we picked up our instruments
I got three musicians out here from New York
And we're here to play music,
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