NEW YORK (CONCEPT DE PARIS) [feat. Gil Scott-Heron]

Yeah!

Yeah, I'm out that Brooklyn, now I'm down in Tribeca
Right next to De Niro, but I'll be hood forever
I'm the new Sinatra, and since I made it here
I can make it anywhere, yeah, they love me everywhere

I used to cop in Harlem, hola, my Dominicanos (Dimelo!)
Right there up on Broadway, brought me back to that McDonald's
Took it to my stash spot, 560 State Street
Catch me in the kitchen, like a Simmons whipping pastry

Cruising down 8th Street, off-white Lexus
Driving so slow, but BK is from Texas
Me? I'm out that Bed-Stuy, home of that boy Biggie
Now I live on Billboard and I brought my boys with me

Say, "What up?" to Ty Ty, still sipping Mai Tais
Sitting courtside, Knicks and Nets give me high fives
Nigga, I be spiked out, I could trip a referee
Tell by my attitude that I'm most definitely from

Don't you know, don't you know
New York was killing me
Yes, I was standing nearly dying here
New York was killing me
Seems like I need to start over
And move back home in Jackson, Tennessee
In, in, in, in New York

Catch me at the X with OG at a Yankee game
Shit, I made the Yankee hat more famous than a Yankee can
You should know I bleed blue, but I ain't a Crip though
But I got a gang of niggas walking with my clique though

Welcome to the melting pot, corners where we're selling rock
Africa Bambaataa shit, home of the hip-hop
Yellow cab, gypsy cab, dollar cab, holler back
For foreigners, it ain't fair, they act like they forgot how to add

Eight million stories out there in the naked
City, it's a pity half of y'all won't make it
Me? I gotta plug Special Ed, "I Got It Made"
If Jeezy's paying LeBron, I'm paying Dwyane Wade

Three dice cee-lo, three-card Marley
Labor Day Parade, rest in peace, Bob Marley
Statue of Liberty, long live the World Trade
Long live the king, yo, I'm from the Empire State, that's

Don't you know, don't you know
New York was killing me
Yes, I was standing nearly dying here
New York was killing me
In, in, in, in New York
Seems like I need to start over
And move back home in Jackson, Tennessee

Lights is blinding, girls need blinders
So they can step out of bounds quick, the side lines is
Lined with casualties who sip the life casually
Then gradually become worse, don't bite the apple, Eve!

Caught up in the in-crowd, now you're in-style
Into the winter gets cold, en vogue with your skin out
City of sin is a pity on a whim
Good girls gone bad, the city's filled with them

Mami took a bus trip, now she got her bust out
Everybody ride her, just like a bus route
"Hail Mary" to the city, you're a virgin
And Jesus can't save you, life starts when the church end

Came here for school, graduated to the high life
Ball players, rap stars, addicted to the limelight
MDMA got you feeling like a champion
The city never sleeps, better slip you're a Ambien

Lord have mercy, mercy on me
Yeah, Lord have mercy, have mercy on me
Tell him to bury my body back home in Jackson, Tennessee
Yeah, Lord have mercy, have mercy on me
In, in, in, in New York



Credits
Writer(s): Angel Haze, Will Mcnair, Gil Scott Heron
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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