Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song NY Time , by - DJ DephtoneRelease date: 26.12.2011
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
NY Time |
| Yeah, niggas! |
| Hahahahaaa! |
| So this is what it all boils down to huh? |
| Huh?! |
| This is what it’s comes to huh? |
| Huh?! |
| Playoffs?! |
| Yo, Poobs (Yeah) |
| Fuck that, we back baby |
| (Hahaaaa) |
| I ain’t ask you to fear it |
| Mandatory you think about it after you hear it |
| And it’s the evil that’s gon' make you have to compare it |
| You know me, I swing back through and see who got hit after I air it |
| But it ain’t about shit |
| Niggas mumble about my outfits |
| But I’m humble, I keep my mouth shut |
| Lacin' 'em well, it was destined for Jason to sell |
| I could make you a reservation to hell |
| Then blow you out of the water |
| I’m out of your order |
| Me verse any rapper is slaughter |
| Somethin' like a poet and a author |
| The only difference is that I make slick talk wit' pain & torture |
| One false move’ll cost ya |
| These lames’ll cross ya |
| Don’t let the game extort ya |
| Try to learn from what the game has taught ya |
| I’m the author of slick talk, pain & torture |
| One false move’ll cost ya |
| These lames’ll cross ya |
| Don’t let the game extort ya |
| Try to learn from what the game has taught ya |
| I’m the author of slick talk, pain & torture |
| Yo, I’ma take the responsibility for bringin' it back |
| They rappin' wit hostility meanin' they wack |
| But then again I feel 'em |
| Knowin' that they up against a nigga just like myself that’ll kill 'em |
| Gotta spend a buck at the dealer for suede ceilings |
| Lotta bodies drop because of betrayed feelings |
| What other rappers you know made it and stayed dealin'? |
| Smart niggas just fell back and they saved millions |
| These are pedestrian bars for the civilians |
| Shoes is Italian, handgun Brazilian |
| Open it up and see what Kiss brought cha |
| Slick talk, pain & torture |
| One false move’ll cost ya |
| These lames’ll cross ya |
| Don’t let the game extort ya |
| Try to learn from what the game has taught ya |
| I’m the author of slick talk, pain & torture |
| One false move’ll cost ya |
| These lames’ll cross ya |
| Don’t let the game extort ya |
| Try to learn from what the game has taught ya |
| I’m the author of slick talk, pain & torture |
| Yo, I flip words around sorta like birds and pounds |
| Rub shoulders in the industry wit' nerds and clowns |
| Give it to whoeva deserve the rounds |
| Hollow tips move organs and nerves around |
| Get money, fuck riffin' |
| I’m definitely cut different, I twist hunnies, puff piff in |
| Get my insight from a O.G. |
| wit' a good job and all that but he loves sniffin' |
| Shit talker, Playboy British Walker |
| Rappers be home like, «God, please get 'em off us» |
| After the sunshine it gets darker |
| Yeah, slick talk, pain & torture |
| One false move’ll cost ya |
| These lames’ll cross ya |
| Don’t let the game extort ya |
| Try to learn from what the game has taught ya |
| I’m the author of slick talk, pain & torture |
| One false move’ll cost ya |
| These lames’ll cross ya |
| Don’t let the game extort ya |
| Try to learn from what the game has taught ya |
| I’m the author of slick talk, pain & torture |