| Yea, yea I’m out that Brooklyn, now I’m down in Tribeca
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| Right next to DeNiro, but I’ll be hood forever
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| I’m the new Sinatra, and, since I made it here
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| I can make it anywhere, yea, they love me everywhere I used to cop in Harlem
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| All of my Dominicano’s right there up on Broadway
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| Pull me back to that McDonald’s, took it to my stashbox, 560 State St
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| Catch me in the kitchen like a Simmons wippin' pastry’s
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| Cruisin' down 8th St., off white Lexus
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| Drivin' so slow, but BK is from Texas
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| Me, I’m out that Bed-Stuy, home of that boy Biggie
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| Now I live on Billboard and I brought my boys with me
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| Say whattup to Ty-Ty, still sippin' Mai Tai’s
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| Sittin' courtside, Knicks and Nets give me high five
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| Nigga I be Spike’d out, I could trip a referee
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| Tell by my attitude that I’m most definitely from
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| In New York
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| Concrete jungle where dreams are made of
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| There’s nothin' you can’t do
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| Now you’re in New York
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| These streets will make you feel brand new
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| Big lights will inspire you
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| Let’s hear it for New York, New York, New York
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| Catch me at the X with OG at a Yankee game
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| Shit, I made the Yankee hat more famous then a Yankee can
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| You should know I bleed blue, but I ain’t a Crip though
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| But I got a gang of niggas walkin' with my clique though
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| Welcome to the melting pot, corners where we sellin' rock
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| Afrika Bambataa shit, home of the hip-hop
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| Yellow cab, gypsy cab, dollar cab, holla back
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| For foreigners it ain’t for, they act like they forgot how to act
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| Eight million stories, out there in it naked
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| City is a pity, half of y’all won’t make it
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| Me, I got a plug, Special Ed «I Got It Made»
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| If Jesus payin' Lebron, I’m payin' Dwayne Wade
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| Three dice cee-lo, three card monte
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| Labor Day Parade, rest in peace Bob Marley
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| Statue of Liberty, long live the World Trade
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| Long live the King yo, I’m from the Empire St. that’s
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| In New York
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| Concrete jungle where dreams are made of
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| There’s nothin' you can’t do
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| Now you’re in New York
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| These streets will make you feel brand new
 | 
| Big lights will inspire you
 | 
| Let’s hear it for New York, New York, New York
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| Lights is blinding, girls need blinders
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| So they can step out of bounds quick, the sidelines is
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| Lined with casualties, who sip to life casually
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| Then gradually become worse, don’t bite the apple, Eve
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| Caught up in the in-crowd, now you’re in style
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| End of the winter gets cold, en vogue, with your skin out
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| City of sin, it’s a pity on the whim
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| Good girls gone bad, the city’s filled with them
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| Mommy took a bus trip, now she got her bust out
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| Everybody ride her, just like a bus route
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| Hail Mary to the city, you’re a virgin
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| And Jesus can’t save you, life starts when the church end
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| Came here for school, graduated to the high life
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| Ball players, rap stars, addicted to the limelight
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| MDMA got you feelin' like a champion
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| The city never sleeps, better slip you an Ambien
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| In New York
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| Concrete jungle where dreams are made of
 | 
| There’s nothin' you can’t do
 | 
| Now you’re in New York
 | 
| These streets will make you feel brand new
 | 
| Big lights will inspire you
 | 
| Let’s hear it for New York, New York, New York
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| One hand in the air for the big city
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| Street lights, big dreams, all lookin' pretty
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| No place in the world that could compare
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| Put your lighters in the air everybody say yeah, yeah
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| Yea, yea
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| In New York
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| Concrete jungle where dreams are made of
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| There’s nothin' you can’t do
 | 
| Now you’re in New York
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| These streets will make you feel brand new
 | 
| Big lights will inspire you
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| Let’s hear it for New York, New York, New York |