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Текст песни Kool Keith - New York City

Kool Keith - New York City слова песни

[Chorus: singer - repeat 4X]Are you sure you wanna go, to New York City (New York City)[Kool Keith]New York City`s finest, the added attraction next to your manPopular name, I`m Mark MinusNegative, is that the best vocals you giveI pass the structure, you think it`s okay, Motown needs to see meDeliver your cassette, amateurs embarass meGive me somethin to play, I sit in the big meetings with Damon DashUrinate on your shoulders, my delivery is arrogantI expect cash, don`t play anything cartoon in front of Mike BivAsk Hyram Hicks, I put my face in the consoleMy engineer`s sharp, I thought you spit on hitsOh you Spike now, wearin AllenYou sportin Houston`s kicks, Central Park WestYou rhyme and practiceWhile I hang out with the Dominican RepublicI keep the Sony Cam, between crushesI take all Spanish chicks, international rapperOn tight bars with the Spanish mixHittin Spanish licks[Chorus][uncredited rapper]Statues, buildings, street killings, living could be heavenPimps {?} thugs, nothing given drivenThe Penthouse look is dope cookers jukersThe high price, hookers gamblers pushersSubways no way, cab some daysTown call always I all daysHonest but dishonest, regardlessI`m heartless, cause money is endlessNo heart to get clipped you trip you`ll get clippedThe weak will slip, hit is what they getHeat spark avoid the jack don`t talk gun sparkAll money sharks in New YorkMoney`s fast, the city ain`t slowThe papes low, in all those boroughs, yo[Chorus][uncredited rapper]Yo, yoI love the dirty blocks, my thugs at the corner movin that stuffControllin the spot, I like the city yo we move quicklyWhere the streets talk a lot, yo (uh-huh, yo)And if you snitch them kids`ll get you at the chicken spotAnd rock big leathers, and match the Timbs upLace the kicks up, the new fitted (new fitted)A long chains make the chickens get real hotStop playin, it`s the Big AppleWe take a bite out, conference calls blow ten thousand (yeah)Bungalo six baby, on just a night out (woo!)The Westside highway, I test my heat outFive deep, we move fast and blow the seats outThe streets peak out, they like the ClaybornesCome through, yo we make the streets stopI know your head bop, New York City (New York)Where cats wild out and jacks just go out[Chorus] - 2X (to fade)

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