| It’s up to you! |
| New York!
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| Neeew Yoooooork!
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| New Yoooooooooooork!
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| It ain’t a movie
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| Ayo Suits!
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| Probably gon' want some pasta after this one ya’meen?
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| Not to Spicy
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| New Yoooork!, New Yoooork!
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| The Cityyyy that doesn’t sleep, New Yoooork!
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| New Yoooork!, New Yoooork!
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| The Cityyyy that doesn’t sleep, New Yoooork!
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| (Cause sleep is the cousin of death)
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| Let me tell you what’s up with all these New York cats
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| They got too rich and lost they grip on rap
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| They let the country boys take over the soundtrack
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| And blow the Superman kid straight off they back
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| Now everybody know where all the flavor is at
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| And if theres any drama, I’ll be handlin' that
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| I gotta switch to singles and walk to fall back
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| Late-night conference calls and all that
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| Not the next Denzel, I’m the first LL
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| I remember where I came from, hot since day one
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| Queens in the building, I spank these children
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| For not seeing that I switch styles like chameleon
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| A lot of wanna-be kings but I’m the real one
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| All these cats playing dumb, they know the deal son
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| Use rap like caps, I will peal one
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| And ya reign is over nigga, here it come
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| New Yoooork!, New Yoooork!
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| The Cityyyy that doesn’t sleep, New Yoooork!
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| (Cause sleep is the cousin of death)
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| Listen party people now here’s the situation
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| All these cats is lyin' they have huge imaginations
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| Ain’t freestyling, them niggas is free-basing
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| It’s like a epidemic the beats they keep wasting
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| Feels like the 80's again, back to basics
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| Hit 'em with the raw shit, niggas is gon' chase it
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| And get addicted to how I spit it
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| I treat my beat like a blunt, lick and split it
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| My shit’s wicked, fiends can’t forget it
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| Take it in ya lungs, ya done, ya get lifted
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| Too many debates about what Mister Smith did
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| What can I say nigga? |
| God’s god I’m gifted
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| But I won’t hit you with the same old money rap
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| Cause most of the money rappers need to give you ya money back
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| I’m just ya man next door, sharp hood cat
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| I want the crown back boy, ya don’t deserve that!
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| New Yoooork!, New Yoooork!
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| The Cityyyy that doesn’t sleep, New Yoooork!
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| (Cause sleep is the cousin of death)
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| Just when ya thought that I was calmin' down
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| I pulled a George Bush and I bombed the town
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| I got 'em runnin' for cover, ducking, running around
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| Like L’s on the radio, «wow how does it sound?»
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| Never been afraid to set it off on these clowns
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| Especially with all the hyped up trash they puttin' out
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| This is for the cats that consistently hold me down
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| Arguing in barbershops from Queens to Up-Town
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| I went to Hollywood and let 'em borrow the crown
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| But they got too cocky, I’m back to check these clowns
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| I dare one of yall to disrespect me now
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| And I’ll die before that happens so inject me now
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| And I’m the best period, fuck pound-for-pound
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| When shit gets serious, I rock the crown
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| Matter of fact, where my real niggas at?
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| I got you, New York is on my back
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| Lets Go!
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| New Yoooork!, New Yoooork!
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| The Cityyyy that doesn’t sleep, New Yoooork!
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| (Cause sleep is the cousin of death) |