Lyrics:
coulda had the ranch
Coulda lived out all my days on that open land
But New York City was calling me home again
We drove out to the hot springs by way
Exacerbated by the fact that my syntax
Is highly complicated 'cause I immigrated
From the single greatest little place in the Caribbean
Dominican Republic! I
and forget the bastard for moving backwards
New York's number one draft pick
I'm a hustler, not by choice (4x)
[Trav]
All this nigga know is, get money
after watchin "New York Undercover" while I was, takin a shit
Kool Keith was on the front cover that's when I
that's when I spotted him
that nigga AZ
ride tonight
Cause this paper we makin' is real, all day
Yo, yo
Niggas mad at the fact we bad
Man I won't stop like a New York taxicab
If your
Watchin' the world go by in a rush
From the window of a bus
Thinkin' about my baby in Muscle Shoals
I'm gonna be up rockin' all
Night in New York City
Then
is none
I'm measured with the heat that's made by sun
'Cause I'm playin ball or bobbin' in the hall
Or just writin' my name in graffiti on the wall
is none
I'm measured with the heat that's made by sun
'Cause I'm playin ball or bobbin' in the hall
Or just writin' my name in graffiti on the wall
you in New York
By the drugstore on First Avenue
And then we will lie down
With the buildings all around
I want to say this to you
I want to say
and make an anthem
I just drop the heat and do tour
From Amsterdam to New York
You won't bust a gun, you a dork
Go suck ya mum through a straw
Aight,
Come see the vampires of New York
Come lose your mind in Central Park
But don't leave your soul behind
Come take in 8th street after dark
Trying to throw cub with crooked smiles
Take your kindness for weakness yhey foul
New York niggas be lovin how the gun talk POW!
Another
one time I'm getting four more
Copped me a new MAC ayo, I was in my cell
I clicked my heels three times
Pink Just 2s, my khaki suit mastermind
Water
whose draw is quicker
So to my shorty dog puzzled I'm pledgin
Died at the age of 17, Brooklyn East New York legend
(Tap the bottom of the bottle for
I still got you on my mind, you're my heart, you're my peace
You're still welcome in my arms, they go from York to Italy
All these times I put in
and they plot on how to be me
But like Stevie, you ain't gonna see me
I'm in New York with my Niggas on Pike Street.
You in the dump still sad still beneath
drowsy
Stop tryin' to foul me
Sayin' that we're lousy
But I'm a tyrant, defiant, walkin' New York Giant
President of the Wu
But I'm also a client
Well right about now yuh entertained by
Di sound called Creation Disco Tech
Yes bredda bredda cool runnings now!
Ha ha! Hear dat! yeah!
Uh! Now in
the ceiling I got on my car
Just like the ceiling girl, take off your top
Look I'm with the hottest, so I flew that bitch to New York
I put that bitch in New
with glasses
Hardrock punks crack heads and even trunks
want to know the truth, so they flock to my roof
New York I got the grip, I told ya I
your plate, scrape your fork
It's either Hollywood and Vine
Or Times Square, new York
You could holler
But never land a top notcher
I got divas like
to Indiana
Chi-Town, K.C., Motown to Alabama
L.A., New York Yankee niggas to Hotlanta
Louisiana, all my niggas with "Country Grammar"
Smokin' blunts in
New York City is a thousand miles away
And if you ask me, I'll tell you that's OK
Now I'm not trying to put the big apple down
'Cause they don't
squeal (ayy)
Quarter mill' just for these rocks on my ears (ayy)
Girl, let me squeeze it to see if it's real (woo)
Freaky lil' New York bitch, call her
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