| New York City, we piss in it, we live in it
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| We die, we all take shits in it
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| New York City, we piss in it, we live in it
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| We die, we all take shits in it
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| There’s a million albums out there
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| With that opera and Shakespeare shit
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| I stuff my ears with cotton when you rap
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| I don’t hear shit, you niggas are excess waste
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| A hundred percent of the mainstream crowd, receive pure shit
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| The hottest DJ’s in New York spin it from the wheelchairs
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| With cancer, my voodoo ready to roll
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| Ask Harlem Hospital, you can’t cure shit
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| HMV at the cash register, girls tryin' to make me buy CD’s
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| Soft jazz and homo R and B, I ain’t payin for that Allure shit
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| Walkin' by Bloomingdales before you see me put the pep in it
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| I guarantee you get bad karma, fly leather coat with the Coach bag
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| You step in shit, choose the Daily News
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| The newspaper’s gonna take off a little off your soles
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| You got a lot around your feet, motherfuckers, not a little bit
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| Wipe that shit off your soles
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| New York City, we piss in it, we live in it
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| We die, we all take shits in it
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| New York City, we piss in it, we live in it
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| We die, we all take shits in it
|
| New York City, we piss in it, we live in it
|
| We die, we all take shits in it
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| New York City, we piss in it, we live in it
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| We die, we all take shits in it
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| I’m straight up on the butt ass transit
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| I don’t give a fuck, I smell the piss in the subway
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| My Boss cologne suits me well on the New York City mass transit
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| Women lookin' scared, borin' ass statues
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| Bitch, you need to get out the boroughs
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| And move to Kansas or Pittsburgh or somethin'
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| Sittin' up with braids in your hair like a fuckin' Halloween pumpkin
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| Smile motherfucker, put on some lipstick or do somethin'
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| Eat your breakfast muffin'
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| My appearance shock your brand new motherfuckin' leather
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| I ain’t say nothin' 'cause in your panties secretly
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| I know you readin' the magazine comin', the freak on the train is bustin'
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| I was sittin' here first, you wasn’t I know you goin' home to masturbate
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| Your girlfriend is messed up, datin' her own fuckin' cousin
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| New York City, we piss in it, we live in it
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| We die, we all take shits in it
|
| New York City, we piss in it, we live in it
|
| We die, we all take shits in it
|
| New York City, we piss in it, we live in it
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| We die, we all take shits in it
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| New York City, we piss in it, we live in it
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| We die, we all take shits in it
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| Y’all just reachin' your damn horizons, so what?
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| You got your cellular phone, motherfucker you prepaid
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| Girls and guys I’m not frontin'
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| Y’all bullshittin' talkin' to nobody lookin' good at the dinner table
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| Runnin' your fuckin' bill up on Verizon
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| You ain’t shoppin' with a lot of Victoria’s Secret bags
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| Monkeys treat you to Unos, retarded ass herb niggas are thin
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| Girls are more insecure, I’m realizin'
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| The datin' and courtin' shit got everybody hyped up and sportin' shit
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| The Bell system fraud, dial on the spot or stand trial on the spot
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| Ladies don’t invite me over
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| Just cover the mattress with the piss and the cum spot
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| Don’t blast the same lame ass singin' MC a lot
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| Now move the ticket off your window
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| Manhattan traffic cop
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| You shoulda dipped, your shit in the parkin' lot
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| New York City, we piss in it, we live in it
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| We die, we all take shits in it
|
| New York City, we piss in it, we live in it
|
| We die, we all take shits in it
|
| New York City, we piss in it, we live in it
|
| We die, we all take shits in it
|
| New York City, we piss in it, we live in it
|
| We die, we all take shits in it |
Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song New York City, artist - Kool Keith. Album song Dr. Octagon Pt. 2 / Bosses In the Booth, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп