| Just Blaze, man. |
| You owe me nigga
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| Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah. |
| Welcome to the Empire State.
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| Home of the World Trade. |
| Birthplace of Michael Jordan.
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| Home of Biggie Smalls. |
| Roc-A-Fella headquaters.
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| Ladies and gentlemen, Killa Cam, Young Hov is definitely in the building
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| Brooklyn, Harlem World (Welcome to New York City, welcome to New York City)
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| Stand the fuck up!
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| (Jay-Z)
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| I’m a B.K. |
| brawler
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| Marcy projects hallway loiterer
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| Pure coke copper, get your order up I bring em to Baltimore in the floor to splore
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| It’s gonna cost you more if I gotta get em to Florida
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| Rugged game attender
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| With the bent pole on the sidewalk with the tin plates on the fender
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| I ain’t hard to find you catch me frontin center
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| At the Knick game, big chain and all my splender
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| Match the spike and the pen left to write
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| I own Madison Square, catch me at the fight
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| But damn once again if you pan left at the ice
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| If you the man that write checks with the hand that don’t write
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| I go off the head when I’m rambling on the mic
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| And I go off the feds when I’m srambling at night
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| And if its off the set I brought hammers to the fight
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| But we from New York City, right Cam? |
| (Cam: Ya damn right)
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| (Chorus: Juelz Santana)
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| It’s the home of 9−11, the place of the lost towers
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| We still banging, we never lost power, tell em Welcome to New York City, welcome to New York City
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| Y’all fuckin with BK’s banger and Harlem’s own gangster
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| Now that’s danger theres nothing left to shape up Welcome to New York City, welcome to New York City
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| (Cam'Ron)
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| Yo, theres a war going on outside no man is safe from
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| It don’t matter if you three feet or eight-one
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| You’ll get eight from me, nine and straight blown
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| Wig split, melon cracked, all that on day one
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| Carry eight guns, two in the trunk
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| Two in the waist, two in the ankle, two to just spank you
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| You can jam with them jammers, blam with them blammers
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| It’s hot here, ask Mase he ran to Atlanta
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| You think we know what life do, make wanna mold the cycle
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| Drinkers they so delightful, blinging with so much ice
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| In front of sparks, body cops Dilano
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| Block away watch by Gotti and Girvano
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| It’s la costra nostra, someone close approach ya They’ll toast ya gopher, bread loaf with shofer
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| Old coke they raise up and snort, blayze up ya fort
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| Jay puff shine, cases was caught
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| Midnight pick fights, they love a victim
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| Watch him fore he watch you, Killa
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| (Chorus: Juelz Santana)
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| It’s the home of 9−11, the place of the lost towers
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| We still banging, we never lost power, tell em Welcome to New York City, welcome to New York City
|
| Y’all fuckin with BK’s banger and Harlem’s own gangster
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| Now that’s danger theres nothing left to shape up Welcome to New York City, welcome to New York City
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| (Cam'Ron)
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| I’m from 101, west to Hunt 40th, this shit is live
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| Fifth-floor, 56, you know the zip, district five
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| You’re on 22nd, you from two-one
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| Thats on Lennox, 7th ave was news one
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| (Jay-Z)
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| Coverage I synethestry
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| Got rise from defending me Cause New York’ll miss me if I’m locked in the penitentary
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| The judge said Is this that thug, from the kit kat club?
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| But I got enough chips stacked up to make a bitch to pack up
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| (Cam'Ron)
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| Killa, I pinch that button, I grip that snub to hit that thug
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| Lay up in a pitch black tug,
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| You lookin at rich black thugs to get that love
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| And we won’t stop til I get back blood
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| Holla at em Hov
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| (Jay-Z)
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| I’m from Flushing, Marcy, Notia, Myrtle and Park
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| Niggas’ll drive by in the day, murder you in the dark
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| Thats why the Johnny gun I’m holding
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| Wet niggas up like the johnny-pump is open
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| Homie, I play hard
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| (Chorus: Juelz Santana)
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| It’s the home of 9−11, the place of the lost towers
|
| We still banging, we never lost power, tell em Welcome to New York City, welcome to New York City
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| Y’all fuckin with BK’s banger and Harlem’s own gangster
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| Now that’s danger theres nothing left to shape up Welcome to New York City, welcome to New York City
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| (Cam'Ron) Yall niggas man, yall can’t fuck around man
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| It’s the ROC bitch, Killa, my nigga Jigga, Sigel, Beans
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| Diplomats man, holla, Dash
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| Get the fuck off our dicks
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| I own this shit right now man, I ain’t going nowhere
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| Welcome to New York City! |