New York (feat. A Boogie Wit Da Hoodie & Jadakiss)

New York, the real New York
I'm outside, I don't live in Miami, I don't live in Colorado
Come to my block, you see me my niggas
All of y'all, you know I be down there
This is Kiss, I'm out

Icy bust down on a wrist
I had to put it on my bucket list
I got a hundred guns, a hundred clips
My nigga, I'm from New York, fuck what you thought
I'm always dressed up in designer shit
They re-change us, pretenders
My ex throwin' shots, she's just like my opps
They always end up tryna spin blocks

Icy bust down on a wrist
I had to put it on my bucket list (I had to put it on)
Huh, I got a hundred guns, a hundred clips
My nigga, I'm from New York, fuck what you thought (I'm always)
I'm always dressed up in designer shit
They re-change us, pretenders
My ex throwin' shots, she's just like my opps
Always end up tryna spin blocks

I got a hundred guns, a hundred clips
Bitch, I'm from New York, fuck what you thought
I'm quick to tell a bitch to suck a dick
Like fuck what you thought, bitch, I'm too sauce

She won't catch me cuddlin' in my Cullinan
Especially when I'm outside bubblin'
Yeah, shorty sexy, but, I really want her friend
Knowin' if I hit it once, I'm probably gon' hit again
No cap, look

AP, straight runner, no tap
In this two-seater with the heat up to the max
Bumpin' old school slick Drake with the patch
Thinkin' 'bout where I came from, I can never go back

'Cause they don't really make 'em like this anymore
Be on 50 for your dog, if it's litty, go to war
You get jammed on that mission, don't go tellin' what you saw
She can tell I'm from New York, just the way a nigga talk

Icy bust down on a wrist (huh?)
I had to put on my bucket list (I had to put on)
Huh, I got a hundred guns, a hundred clips
My nigga, I'm from New York, fuck what you thought (I'm always)
I'm always dressed up in designer shit
They re-change us, pretenders
My ex throwin' shots, she's just like my opps
Always end up tryna spin blocks

Hard-headed jacket, my belt Hermès
You want me to throw this cash, better shake that ass
I'm a New York nigga, only bigger
Okay, I'm a Lil Mane, yeah, fuck how you feel

I can go back to the hood, yeah 'cause I'm good there
Niggas say the realest shit, but be the fakest, yeah
Only if you understood, my nigga
Just know I love you even though I never say it, yeah

Brodie always got my back, with the big MAC, yeah
We ain't blood, it just look like we related, yeah
In my bag, watch your mouth 'fore we watch your house, bitch
(When it's murder on your mind, it's hard to think about shit)

Still shakin' up the dice like I'm on my last round
Wanna talk about the past when we get him back, yeah
Get the money, write the Mike Amiri on my ass
Drive the Bentley, ride the pension, but the first and last, yeah

Icy bust down on a wrist (icy, bust down)
I had to put on my bucket list (I had to put on)
Huh, I got a hundred guns, a hundred clips (a hundred, nigga)
My nigga, I'm from New York, fuck what you thought
I'm always dressed up in designer shit (I'm always, fly)
They re-change us, pretenders (you know we fly, nigga)
My ex throwin' shots, she's just like my opps (fuck everyone)
Always end up tryna spin blocks (ha-ha-ha)

Yeah, I got a hundred guns, a hundred clips (brrt)
I'm from New York, fuck what you thought
Life is too short, I don't do shorts (uh-uh)
I done sold everything, crack to new ports (woo)

'Bout that action, 'bout that goon talk (yeah)
Drop the coke in the pot, watch it moonwalk (ayy)
Wait for his heart to stop, don't zoom off (uh-uh)
Grown man watch hoppin' out of the two-door (yes)

I'm from the apple where you learned how to grapple
It's fucked up 'cause now, they clap you (yeah)
Put you around, is what you will adapt to (uh-huh)
We in the building, plus, we on the map too (yes)

We put it in baggies, now, they put it in capsules (woo)
The Mecca of Hip-Hop, this is the chapel (yeah)
You ain't fuckin' with it, you is a hater
Rowdy Rebel, A Boogie, and Jada (yeah)

Icy bust down on a wrist (what?)
I had to put on my bucket list (I had to put on my bucket list)
Huh, I got a hundred guns, a hundred clips
My nigga, I'm from New York, fuck what you thought
I'm always dressed up in designer shit (I'm always)
They re-change us, pretenders
My ex throwin' shots, she's just like my opps
Always end up tryna spin blocks



Credits
Writer(s): Carlton Washington Livingston, Hyman Wright, Clement Seymour Dodd, Joseph Anthony Cartagena, Marcello Valenzano, Andre Christopher Lyon, Lawrence Krsone Parker, Jason Phillips, Jeffrey B. Atkins
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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