N.Y. State of Mind, Pt. ll

Uh, yeah (New York, New York)
Yo, what up? What up?
It's time man (word, it's time?) (New York, New York)
Straight up (it's time, man)
Aight, up, set that shit off (New York, New York)
(Set it off then nigga, set it off)

Broken glass in the hallway, bloodstained floors
Neighbors, look at every bag you bring through your doors
Lock the top lock, momma shoulda cuffed me to the radiator
Why not? It might've saved later from my block
N.Y. cops, hookers crawlin' off the stroll, coughin'
Stitches in they head, stinkin' and I dread thinkin' they be snitchin'
But who else could it be? Shook at these, unmarked vans

Parked in the dark, NARCs, where's your heart?
Hustlers starve, they bust a U-ey, I jog
To my building, come out later wearin' camouflage
See the sergeant and the captain, strangle men
Niggas gaspin' for, until they move no more and just stare
With dead eyes, tired of riots, shit is quiet
Simple-minded fools infiltrate grimy crews

Overcrowded cribs, uncles home from bids, sister's pregnant
Father's on drugs, moms is smokin', beds is piss-infested
Had eight partners growin' up, eight turned to seven
Seven turned to six niggas, got two in heaven
Six of us, holdin' it, now it's five rollin' thick
The sixth one's parole flipped five niggas, went to four quick

When he went O.T, college life, converted into gangbangin'
Four niggas still hangin', years passed and slang changin'
Three of us now, fourth nigga ain't around
We all thought he was real, he did the snake shit
Fake shit, beat his ass down
Yo, his mouth could've got us all wasted, what a fuckin' clown
All I got left in the end is two of my best friends
And we all goin' out, to the death for these ends

New York, New York (New York state of mind)
New York, New York (New York state of mind)

You heard about it, you see about it (New York, New York)
You read about it, it's in your papers (New York, New York)
It's in your daily news "Get money!" (New York, New York)
New York Chronicles, every day (New York, New York)
The crime rate, the murder rate (New York, New York)
The money rate, the paper chase, you know what I mean? (New York, New York)
New York state of mind baby, check it out

I'm at the gamblin' spot, my hands on a knot
New York Yankee cap, cover my eyes, stand in one spot
I take a nigga dough, send him home, to a shoebox
You lost that nigga, I put your dollar in the jukebox
Hear my favorite song, all these niggas sing along
All the cigarette smoke's cloggin' my lungs, hoodrats flashin' they tongue
Young thugs blastin' they gun, we got reputations

Bitches and niggas both on parole or probation
Shit is sick, niggas got gats, army fatigues
I got my eyes glued on, whoever walk in the lead
'Cause I ain't playin', niggas'll run up in here and shoot up this shit
Stick yo' ass up, niggas'll find the loot in your kicks

Bunch of triple-cross niggas, just New York niggas
Lift you off your feet when they was just talkin' with you
Some of these dudes, the Feds be on 'em, you knew 'em for years
Be the type when you walk in a pub, they offer you beers
That ain't gangsta, niggas is up North with tatted tears
Your name's on the affidavit, you ratted kid

Faggot-ass niggas, that be scared to do they bids
Fuck you, we run you out of N.Y, you can't live
Got your quiet niggas, that relocated down South
Comin' back to floss, then you got the jealous loudmouths
All of a sudden we got Crips and Bloods, D.Ts
Runnin' 'round quick to split your mug, it's easy to score

But it's hard to get the shit off
Niggas fightin' over hundred sales, jump in the car and drive off
When the fiend come around the block, happy as hell
Niggas mad, 'cause they ain't get a piece of that sale
Cutthroat connivers, universal, ghetto survivors
Go to any hood that's live, and make it liver
A lot of niggas schemin', some real, some niggas frontin'
But I'm a big dreamer, so watch me come up with somethin'

New York, New York
New York, New York



Credits
Writer(s): Eric Barrier, William Griffin, Nasir Jones, Chris E. Martin
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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