'cuz you on the TV rappin' I sneakin' from B.X., B.K. and the Staten Manhatten and Queens jookin' kids for rings New York, New York, the big city of
a Bauw, b-b-bauw, bauw, rocky balboa [mannie fresh] Meet me at the cat cave, bitch, in a hour And i'ma show your dog ass, yo, I got the power To have
I don't shoot lead 'Cause I'm a freaky streaker like Winnie The Pooh With T-shirt and no pants and I dance the bugaloo Like George Whipple on New York
If you want Money in your pocket Top hat on your head Hot meal on your table And a blanket On your bed Come to new york city And I'm leaving on a train
put them needles in they arm and let them penetrate Leaning sideways with my fitted straight With 27's on point, the paintjob are new york minute made
'em Pussy is power, listen man My chocha's tighter than a traffic jam That's tight Coochie like drugs, I'm a thousand grams Got fiends from New York
pawn up, yo, that's a wrong move A hog move, some rap cat on dog food Microphone competition, we devour You pull plugs but take no source of power '
hit the floor You better come the best way you know how nigga Gun play, that's the way it goes down nigga I know you know the rules of New York Bullshit
a game of ball This is my third felony plus my third strike man I ain't goin' home I got 25 to Life. QU New York, you try to criticize me I criticize
niggas around like a game of ball This is my third felony plus my third strike Man I ain't goin' home I got 25 to Life QU New York, you try to criticize
wanna do is give some sight to them All my people, New York City to the coast of Cal I'm the toast of towns, I'm the cat's meow Movin' faster than your
last atom Active ax handler, handle hurt merchandise Flirt, with inert word device devised Formed pertinent ties Tied to word commando kids, rise Show me those New York
the way I spit the Ether, Came on the scene at 19 a gritty fiend for, Money, power, respect, get it by any means uh, New Yorker, slick talker, walk
you in fact, this is where it's at cause lyrics I've provided is about to swing the bat and shake up the levels from New York to Montego It's all about
power, listen man) (My chocha's tighter than a traffic jam) That's tight (Coochie like drugs, I'm a thousand grams) (Got fiends from New York to the islands
eleven shot loss and jaw wrecked that Osten won't soften you're lost and see arson, to exterminate the flyest nigga like Orkin Stalkin lofts men to New York