NY BABY
HOOK:
I’m feelin’ like fuck you
I’m a new york baby, i’m a new york baby
I’m a new york baby, i’m a new york baby
And i’m feelin like fuck you,
I’m a new york baby, i’m a new york baby
I’m a new york baby, i’m a new york baby
Craft Verse:
We was never really with the horseplay
Back before the delis were all gourmet
Before the highrises there was more shade
That’s a paradox, i learned not to stare at opps/
I seen mufuckers dropped for a long gaze
We was hoopin from the mornin those were long days
I aint know you then its fuck you that’s the wrong way to be
And i know it but that’s what the city taught me/
Forties was my forteit, Now they plastic
like the faces of the models that we all raise
On pedastals the lifestyle we all crave,
i dont give a fuck About your lil’ ice or your cream/
all you mufuckers sorbet,
Rich kids down the block from where the poor stay
Only time they come together is for drugs or to ball play
Thought that they was cool Shit until they caught each other on the wrong day/
I got homies that would reather be arrested than ignored hey
Can you blame em they rather be dead than be average
School to prison pipeline they legacy applicants
Fuck the white boy with the jumper gon tell em about it/
Shit yo i dont know, aint a single resident that dont want mo
I grew up with some feelins like i won’t show
I would rather be washed than be pussy so,
If them boys pressed me i was gon go/
I was scared that my ego wasn’t gon’ grow
Saw that fear in the eyes of all my mans too
I aint know how i’d be great but i planned to
You cant always just be happy let this song play
It’s all love but shit homie this an off day
Shit, i’m from where it’s fuck you til it’s not
And once it’s not then, any time you got a problem you can call me
New york city motherfucka
HOOK
BAMZ Verse:
I’m lookin for them happy rappers
Sweet as candy what happened them laffy taffy rappers
If this was the 90s we prolly have pataki at us
It aint nothin to at us/
I don’t trust n*ggas no further than i can throw em
No wonder i keep the toast with all this bread ima show em
We don’t throw jabs, we hit em with hooks
If the words don’t touch em we hit em with books/
Always in the hook politickin with crooks
Cut the curls off how many feelin this look?
How many times i’ma hear i’m underrated?
New name saint chavo thats a new york state statement/
Everything ghetto ain’t fabolous
don’t be mad at us even when theres mad of us
No lie i got a new york drive
Table talk everybody want a pizza pie/
Bodega cat, i ain’t got 9 lives
Tried to kill my 9 times i be on 10 toes
Traffickin on four wheels
Movin weight for real/
Got my bitch in foreign heels walkin up foreign hills
Ferrari four and change
After taxes brand new bracket i’m in
Look what happened to them bodega clappin again/
HOOK