Made in NYC

I never thought that I'd finally make my own lane
Blazin a trail in a triple black Mustang
You know I'm fresh, so I gotta let my chain hang
Don't think about it too hard, it's a New York thing
You know we coming out dipped with dem NY fitteds
And when it come down to the hands any nigga can get it
We 20 deep, all my pplz rockin white tees
Some of these niggas packin heat that you wouldn't believe
And when chillin in the club you know how we get down
We got the Henny and these bishes is ordering Crown
Telling the DJ turn it up cause they twerkin it now
It's almost time to bounce, but first can I get another round
That's how we do it in the city on a Saturday night
You might get twisted, but trust me gawd, that shit was light
How you gonna make it, my city full of savages
Tossin kids outta whips to miss carriages
They ain't playin no games when you leavin the club
You think you bouncing with dem chains, nah that shit is a dub
But it ain't all bad here in the Rotten Apple
We got some ight strip joints and what have you
We welcome anybody, come to the city and vibe
Home of the haze and the Steady Blowin Loud Tribe
Roll up a L my nigga, we got cookies for days
Ain't got no time for silly beef, we need to get paid
Only concern is making sure the fam good
I'm tryna go from 170 to Hollywood
I can make it happen, the hood right behind me
Doin it for the people, somebody come sign me
It's time to push the red button dawg, and lift-off
Got my Timbs, fresh cut and buttersoft
They don't do it like this when you in other cities
All they got to offer is cheap drinks and fake titties
But it's real out here down on the concrete
New York muh-fucka, the city still ain't gettin sleep
Somebody put me in the booth and change the lock
People legit tellin me, "Reem you got a shot"
I ain't playin no games when I'm slingin the pen
I'm tryna get the city lit and start bouncin again
Substitute filling teachin bout Hip-Hop
And I got the lesson plan, right here in the ZipLock
They telling me wrap it up, but ion even wanna stop
Pandora's box opened up, fucked around and picked the lock
I understand fam, now it's time to leave
Cause when I'm in the room, lame niggas they can't breathe
3 good hits and then I need a Grand Slam
And when they say who hit it man, it's Reem Grand



Credits
Writer(s): Kareem Pringle
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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