Lyrics:
A thousand pieces in a jigsaw of beautiful mistakes
The debris of beauty flickers
In the sadness of a smile
It's the perfection of your
Ramarley Graham
RIP Kendra James
RIP to the ten lives lost in New York Buffalo
We tired to say this bro
Like for real
Black Lives Matter
Yea
They don't want
on
Rolling up the cronic, isn't it ironic
My money rolling like Sonic
Divas in my lap up and down like hydraulics
Got a pimp player degree
But never did
New York blocks
Style down to my socks
Met you there
By the big square
LA air
Going through my hair
Don't you dare
Let this scare ya
I know
How I'm rapping
Proud ol head
Could be your pappy
New haircut
Prefer it nappy
Shock your ass
Do more than rapping
Love my queen
Deserve a palace
Hard
Well we're all packed up and we're Iroquois bound
Tuning our ears for the F. M. Sound
We got a million problems, we're on our way
44th, New York
Everybody turned up, me I'm just burned up
Sour lit, piff lit
Flying through the district
My swag's in the weed bag
Live up in the hotel
Hangout
Automatic weapons on the floor but who can you call
My down bitch, one who live by the code
Put this music shit aside get it in on the road
Lot of quiet time,
too
and if it ain't fun, just give them one the boot
before we knew it, it was over fast
and New York City, was frozen by the blast
they say they'll
can't rest in peace Jones, you see they funerals up
New gangstas in the city bitch, ring the alarm
All y'all hoes bow down, kiss the ring of a don
It's
left home
On the streets of New York, now I'm free
But with freedom comes big responsibility
I used to walk around driven by the force
I remember how
me,
or would you fuck another n**** and go act brand new with me.
This world so crazy it gotta keep fighin.
And I'm in the middle of hell and it ain't
cityyy")
The Bridge, the Bridge, the Bridge
New York Jet, love where I live
Ride rough stand up to them guns
But don't wanna do that without a Big Pun
Like, I don't know, but it feels like I got nine lives
I came in this with, like, four friends (four up)
Tube socks and Chuck Taylors on
I stayed in
I ain't never thought much of getting up
Or the climb down the stairs to my coffee cup
Or the good morning news in the background
'Til I heard
always be this dark
We were shaking all over
We were holding it down
We were holding it down
We might live
In a Motel 6
Where the lights never lose their
Money make the world go round
And all the pretty girls go down
And I still roll round through my old hood in my new whip
All white ghost I call it my
From the land of the prairie, Cherokee by birth
They called me Young Wolf
Cuz I live free on my own terms
Through crkansas and Oklanhoma
Fighting for
greats?
It takes classic material to phat shit
Hook
Not proof of New York residence and an accent
Who expresses the freshest the
West Coast was ressurcted
Back in '96
New York City raised a 90's kid (from Queens)
Grew up in a house built on 90's bricks (it was brick)
"X" years later, it was time we
jobs are essential
The rest of y'all
Need to keep it Residential
If the news gets refused
We're gonna end up in a spiral
So excuse the term
We gotta
on me
So what your squad gonna do
Lay a hand on me I'll lay a hollow on you
Change hands stab his pockets run his wallet on thru
Every club in new york
been trynna bring me down though
For all these new It rappers
They be clowns though
And I come from the land where
They don't lend a hand but
Everybody
Dreaming that's got me by this far
Without it I'd be lost in the wind
Some days I can't get out of my own bed
Others I play along instead
It's been
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