| I’m a New Yorker downtown Brooklyn worker
|
| Payphone talker it only cost me a quarter
|
| I’m thirsty New York summer hot as a sauna
|
| Put my mouth to the fire hydrant and drink some water
|
| We try to stop a yellow cab but he ignored us
|
| He just splash mud in my face cause of my aura
|
| No camera phones it was just camcorders
|
| But we made movies sprayed ozzies transformer
|
| Intellect speaker fresh snikers dear dorers
|
| When we put the work in the pot it dance on us
|
| I used to re up up town transporter
|
| Hood swag, book bag, jams porter
|
| Five o’clock news somebody got out of order
|
| People waving over the shoulders of news reporters
|
| Hi mom, hip hop we cypher of the corner
|
| I spit till I was tired, alphabetical slaughter
|
| Still it’s the dark side of divine
|
| Years go past I’m getting nicer with mind
|
| You don’t respect what the dog write in his rhyme
|
| Don’t expect to be seen by the side of the blind
|
| But still yeah, it’s the dark side of divine
|
| Years go past I’m getting nicer with mind
|
| You don’t respect what the dog write in his rhyme
|
| Don’t expect to be seen by the side of the blind
|
| Girls toes hanging out of their sandals
|
| I rush home so I can watch Ralph McDaniels
|
| Back then the gun charge was only a year
|
| Walkman, my headphones over my ears
|
| It takes 2 I used to listen to raw beats
|
| My tape pop I tape it back together with Scotch Tape
|
| We ain’t had metro cards we had tokens
|
| André The Giant got slammed by Hulk Hogan
|
| Chicken pox passed the call on my allusion
|
| David Takens black folks started hoping
|
| White folks caught not snitching the gag order
|
| Italians call it a code of silence they blast talkers
|
| Blacks, they wanna put the label of rats on us
|
| So they encourage us to tell then they laugh on us
|
| No other race do it they want their soul to be gone
|
| Snitching is not a street thing it’s just morally wrong
|
| Still it’s the dark side of divine
|
| Years go past I’m getting nicer with mind
|
| You don’t respect what the dog write in his rhyme
|
| Don’t expect to be seen by the side of the blind
|
| But still yeah, it’s the dark side of divine
|
| Years go past I’m getting nicer with mind
|
| You don’t respect what the dog write in his rhyme
|
| Don’t expect to be seen by the side of the blind
|
| It’s just another New York night
|
| It take a certain level of conscience to comprehend my message
|
| So I understand why you hate on me man
|
| I don’t expect to be seen by he side of the blind
|
| Hip hop is in my blood
|
| You gotta make me bleed if you wanna get rid of it
|
| So in that note, I remain
|
| The most hated alive
|
| Most hated alive
|
| Most hated alive
|
| Peace |