Lyrics Yankee Fitted - Talib Kweli, Mims, The Bad Seed

Yankee Fitted

I swear on my Yankee fitted, I’m 'bout business
Jesus, God, Muhammad, Allah, my witness
N.Y stand up, y’all know what this is (this is)
One for New York you bitches
Set the record straight, I rep the state
Everywhere I go the fitted attract hate
The N. Y logo, they say «Oh no!»
New York in the building, don’t speed, go slow
Shout to westside, shout to south, shout to midwest
Overseas in depth, shout to everywhere I ain’t even been yet
But when I touchdown one thing you can bet
I got my fitted on, who wanna get it on?
Even when I’m dolo, the borough and the logo
I’m so N. Y, oh and I, walk with a bop like my toes just died
The hat speak for me, I don’t vocalize
Swing my arm like a hammer til I broke his eye
New York’s on, yeah, and the pope get high
Yo pass my fitted, let me show this guy I
Got it in blue, got it in red I, got it in black, matter of fact
You could tell an N. Y nigga how he wear it
If it ain’t about the fitted hat, I don’t wanna hear it
That’s my Yankee fitted, that’s my Yankee fitted
That’s my Yankee fitted, that’s that Yankee (Hey!)
And everywhere we go, they already know
That’s that Yankee fitted, that’s my Yankee fitted
That’s that Yankee… (Talib Kweli, Blacksmith!)
My New Era Yankee fitted is so money
The way your hat fit on your head is so funny
You bummy, it’s so laughable
I’m so international, I’m always on the runway no fashion show
Places I have to go, you can’t get to it, no MetroCard
Wear it on stage and I sweat a lot, so you can tell I’m working
I got a reservoir of fitteds, 7 and ¼th the fit is so perfect
I stay loyal to the royal blue
They call the Apple rotten cause New York City will spoil you
Sometimes I switch it up, with the fedora or the applejack, 'til I’m ready to
bring the Apple back
That’s when I open up my closet door, and find a cap to match the Spike Lee
Jordans on the closet floor
Me and my fitteds travel many miles, before every tour I stop and try on the…
I been around the world and I I I, I keeps my Yankee fitted
Brim tucked low across my eye’s why, sometimes I can’t see shit but yo
I go hard for my city no pause, me I ball like I have no draws
I had to pause on that, I sound reckless
I’m from New Yitty the city that found Precious
Yep yep, I rap hard when I’m OT, I got the game on wrap like I’m Roti
No seguro my nigga, that means no sleep
I hit the club like pussy meat and I’m so deep
I got a big ego, I make big bread
Ask these bitches they tell you I got a big head
That’s cause most of y’all niggas ain’t really livin'
You couldn’t walk a day in my fitted, nigga you kiddin'?