| It’s another night in the city of lights
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| I sit back and take it all in
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| Yo' city, my city our city baby
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| His city, her city our city baby
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| With another night in the city of lights
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| I close my eyes and the sun rises again
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| New York, New York, it’s our city baby to yo' city baby
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| One do you want from me?
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| Are you saying I shouldn’t raise Hell?
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| I give you true tales, you’re concerned with who sells
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| Whether you benefits from who balls or who fail
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| (FIRST FAMILY) Will brawl and you’ll bail
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| Time to unveil and climb in your hole
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| The homies do rap like black rock and roll
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| And ain’t no party like a Mo P. party
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| Dawg a Mo P. party don’t welcome e’rybody
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| Yo (AND WE GON' LAY IT DOWN) and show 'em how to party right
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| With trey bags and half pints of Bacardi Light
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| You start a fight, we do it as a ritual it’s pitiful
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| Y’all cats ain’t keeping rap traditional
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| You’re listening to the words of me
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| I ain’t trying to hit you with the third degree but you heard of me
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| I’m the original
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| Y’all wait for me to change
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| I just sit back, relax and nurse the game
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| Nigga
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| This is based on life stories
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| Yo, I illustrate a portrait of pain
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| On how we got lost in the game
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| I think back to the good times
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| The rise and fall
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| The sorrow and pain that come with the namew
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| Of those that did it to win
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| These are the days of my life
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| Wish I could live it again
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| But I can’t, times over fast like BK
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| Motion picture I fast forward my life squeeze play
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| To the days of the 2 triple 0
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| And it’s mad fake love
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| Snake cats and half fake thugs
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| God damn homie
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| What changed you?
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| Them birds in your hand?
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| Did you really have to murder your man?
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| With the greed to earn grams
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| Just a handful of real niggas that’s left
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| That ain’t dead they in jail and they gon' have to understand how
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| One nigga can fuck up a plan
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| And have a nigga mentally dead, confined in a can |