Lyrics:
York City's mixtape circuit. He's already in the studio working on his upcoming album with tracks produced by Dr. Dre, Shaw Money, and Eminem himself.
in the block holding
If you see me rolling by
Remember that you don't know me (you don't know me)
Bitch niggaz do bitch thangs
Look at 50 what he does
pay homage
Fat-mouth the Dogg and I'm straight up the heart
Now everybody know that California and New York, we rockin'
Never ever try to run up
in the New York sewers
And there's bubblin' ice cold lemonade and sweet grapes by the bunches
And there's Hersheys bars and Oreos 'case anybody gets
West.
Oaxacan tops and Kenya Bhang and Riviera Fleurs.
And that rare Manhatten Silver that grows down in the New York sewers.
And there's bubblin' ice
what pocket I had left, my handkerchief
I'm guilty by affiliation, in many ways gangsta
But let me explain something, a paradox if you may
I threw all my
go)
This year shit it's all on me
I'm hollering happy new year
Haha, yeah Curtis so while you watching
The ball drop in New York
Well this what they
hoes buy my clothes
I can't go broke, never will - all my bros buy my O's
I'm the best thing that linked up with New York since Sprewell
I murder,
to do you like this
Oh man homey, when the tooley go click, click, click
It's the young high-roller, the talk of New York
David got my neck lookin'
creeping in
And war was just on horizon
The family settled in old New York
The busy streets
The bustling port
Saved their money and moved up north
in this place don't compare
Put the city on my back, if you don't know it, I'll be here
Nights in New York, be my favorite type of nights
Bury me in
yeah
I could put it Moms it's too ALIAS
FIFTY-CAL bullet leave you witta radius
My new bitch told me she "spontaneous"
Two built glocks nigga
you like this
Oh man homey, when the tooley go click, click, click
It's the young high-roller, the talk of New York
David got my neck lookin' like
(c'mon) if you see me on the block holdin
(what nigga) if you see me rollin by
Remember that chu don't know me
(you don't know me)
If you see me in
me, quote me just hear me and listen slowly
Its 5 am in new york and this city gone get to no me
I aint gritty like 50 and I aint tryna be hovi
I’m
till they’re sixty
While the guys born into millions are living fine with their Fifty new designer pairs of sneakers
And a Chrysler for Christmas
Well
got the room
It's only made for two, like we inside the coop
Bishop how they got juice, & I was Q, by the roof
Always been the Bobby brown out the group
Bang Bang, Bang Bang Bang
Black man slain and the shots rang
The City Of God
Bishop in "Juice"
These are the stories told, by cats in a hat like Seuss
5-1 not 5-0, Im'ma be 52
Bomb drop non-stop spitting on you
Never have so many been screwed by so few
Call to save y'all, so whatcha wanna do?
[Chorus]
Don't talk tough talker unless you walk the walk
We grimy, we dirty in New York, New York
Blood spill around here and don't care about
a nigga touch a few milly
Im talking every week flying to a new city
Til the safe full of hundreds and them new fifties
They wanna leave a nigga stiff like
to death and stripped, all over a bitch
Now it's 50 MC's that ain't worth shit
Get ya ass kicked 50 times, beat to 10 cent
I love New York, but the niggas
rotation
Hamster wheel with the moves
Plays be coming in twos
You can tell by my shoes
I ain’t missing no meals
And I done paid all my dues
I just do
sippin 'Gnac, y'all wassup?
Girls, rub on your titties (yeah)
Yeah fuck it I said it rub on ya titties
New York City gritty committee, pity the fool
Discuss these new york in the fifties by stephen bishop Lyrics with the community:
Report Comment
We're doing our best to make sure our content is useful, accurate and safe.
If by any chance you spot an inappropriate comment while navigating through our website please use this form to let us know, and we'll take care of it shortly.
Attachment
You need to be logged in to favorite.
Log In