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An island trying to peep the horizon from the highest peak in the sky and
Puerto Rico, Ireland, Manhattan chimed in by him every place I been
Can’t replace my hiding place where I arrived in
Give you a taste of the pace on this Island, little giant, little defiant
Really a riot spew the saliva lived with the jews man a Upper West Sider
Mixed in the stew and he tired
Shout Carlos man also a writer, Shout stop also a writer
It's the truth I admirer chill with my boo how I’m wired
Don’t know what to do when he fired up
Strut up with the mutts through the fire
Yo Wik what’s going on man?
Talking to A
That’s my OG gave me my name
Must been 13 first hit him with game
Said rap about you so I spit bout the train
Decade later Wik you goin’ sit and complain?
Come on man what do you like?
I like the 1 train, bagel with lox, crushing the mic
I like the sunset on the Hudson look at the light
He looked at me like, right? why you still pouting?
Ain't listened kept listing what I was about and
Aight aight aight
I like Sunday dinner lounging
Posted at the crib kids clowning
Change for the bus scrounging
City park kids running through the fountains
Man I like the mountains
My man ain't no fucking mountains in Manhattan
Written by: Alex Brady Epton, Antonio Hernandez, Patrick Garland Morales
Lyrics © Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.
Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind