"N.Y.C." lyrics
Still a hustle, Staten Island
Still a struggle, New York
Still gone bubble, 10304
I'm form New York, City, Birth place of the gritty
Dog eat dog, Only Jake willing to work with me
Watch your drink before they lace your sizzurp with a mickey
Bodies will burn like dub sacks of purple sticky
Cojacks developing Kodaks of your meeting engagements
The young guns put pressure on the made men
The fiends they'll cap you for your package
The mass act savage, Little sis selling her ass and tits
Your best friend will send shots to wet ya
The bad lands, Hammers on the waist bands the regular
Trapped in this hood dwelling, selling five and dime
Cause ain't no nine to five for two time felons
And little man wanna be just like me
The saddest thing is he just might be
With a life as Christopher Walken, King of New York 'em
Resort to talking when the heat is on 'em, breathing on 'em
There's nowhere to run to, there's nowhere to hide
There's no one to trust so keep a gun on your side
Just do as the Roman's if you wanna survive
I guess that's how it go in N.Y
There's nowhere to run to, there's nowhere to hide
There's no one to trust so keep a gun on your side
Just do as the Roman's if you wanna survive
I guess that's how it go in N.Y
Oh Blue I said, you make it here you make it anywhere
Drug wars for every square, blood sport, the semis air
So watch where you walk through, watch who you talk to
Watch them young Gotti's, they'll off you
It's like a mafia plot
The fishermen find more bodies then cops
But the shots don't stop, trying to get it get it
Inside where the broads and the ballas kick it
Big city lights, whips, chicks and ice
You're living, you're victim to them sick gritty types
Drueling with they tongues out, Guns out spraying clips
Who lay in the pits and pray for a taste of it
If you can sleep you awaken by the loud sound of barking chrome
Sound foul but I call it home
So keep heat when on the roam, speak brief when on the phone
In these mean streets you all alone
There's nowhere to run to, there's nowhere to hide
There's no one to trust so keep a gun on your side
Just do as the Roman's if you wanna survive
I guess that's how it go in N.Y
Still a struggle, New York
Still gone bubble, 10304
I'm form New York, City, Birth place of the gritty
Dog eat dog, Only Jake willing to work with me
Watch your drink before they lace your sizzurp with a mickey
Bodies will burn like dub sacks of purple sticky
Cojacks developing Kodaks of your meeting engagements
The young guns put pressure on the made men
The fiends they'll cap you for your package
The mass act savage, Little sis selling her ass and tits
Your best friend will send shots to wet ya
The bad lands, Hammers on the waist bands the regular
Trapped in this hood dwelling, selling five and dime
Cause ain't no nine to five for two time felons
And little man wanna be just like me
The saddest thing is he just might be
With a life as Christopher Walken, King of New York 'em
Resort to talking when the heat is on 'em, breathing on 'em
There's nowhere to run to, there's nowhere to hide
There's no one to trust so keep a gun on your side
Just do as the Roman's if you wanna survive
I guess that's how it go in N.Y
There's nowhere to run to, there's nowhere to hide
There's no one to trust so keep a gun on your side
Just do as the Roman's if you wanna survive
I guess that's how it go in N.Y
Oh Blue I said, you make it here you make it anywhere
Drug wars for every square, blood sport, the semis air
So watch where you walk through, watch who you talk to
Watch them young Gotti's, they'll off you
It's like a mafia plot
The fishermen find more bodies then cops
But the shots don't stop, trying to get it get it
Inside where the broads and the ballas kick it
Big city lights, whips, chicks and ice
You're living, you're victim to them sick gritty types
Drueling with they tongues out, Guns out spraying clips
Who lay in the pits and pray for a taste of it
If you can sleep you awaken by the loud sound of barking chrome
Sound foul but I call it home
So keep heat when on the roam, speak brief when on the phone
In these mean streets you all alone
There's nowhere to run to, there's nowhere to hide
There's no one to trust so keep a gun on your side
Just do as the Roman's if you wanna survive
I guess that's how it go in N.Y
