Lyrics:
the blind leading the blind
We don't make it prime time till we dyin'
The New York Times
The New York Times
The New York Times
(Extra, extra, read all about
the weak don't last long
In New York City
You don't show pity
In New York City
New York City
They'll rob you blind
Take you from behind
In New York City
important like the pope, I'm a muslim on pork
I'm Makaveli's offspring, I'm the king of New York
King of the Coast, one hand, I juggle them both
spiked out, I can trip a referee,
Tell by my attitude that I most definitely from…
In New York,
Concrete jungle where dreams are made of,
Theres
spiked out, I can trip a referee,
Tell by my attitude that I most definitely from…
In New York,
Concrete jungle where dreams are made of,
Theres
to the cultural birth of Hip Hop
From Hamilton Hill, Schenectady, Upstate New York
Hamilton Hill, Schenectady, Upstate New York
Hamilton Hill, Schenectady, Upstate
(Yeah)
It's in and out and reelin', didn't know if this was real or just pretend (Yeah)
New York, New York I'll forgive you
A lover's sins against me
Held up in New York City
Oh god bless my town
We strong, we gritty
Through the storm we come out
For the dreams we chase
Life never stays the same
I felt that fifth all on yo waist
And you know
Now all you hear is New York this, New York that
Let's keep it real motherfuckers, I brought New York
I was walking in New York City and I brushed up against the man in front of
me. I felt a cardboard placard on his back. And when we passed
I felt that fifth all on yo waist
And you know
Now all you hear is New York this, New York that
Let's keep it real motherfuckers, I brought New York
I was walking in New York City and I brushed
Up against the man in front of me
I felt a cardboard placard on his back
And when we passed
you looking pretty with your happy ass/ out in New York City with the matching bags/ ooh you look saditty but it’s actually sad/ no that/ ain’t
a rapidly lessening portion of majors
Dissolved in the abortion of
Creations new laborers
Pilot burner, riddle of trades, divinity
Composers and tunnel
On a sunny afternoon in lower east side New York...
You about ready? (Yeah)
Good morning my sweet vision of morbid disorder
And Good evening
Nervous internal, but all smiles on the surface
Going to New York for the first time
Never thought it’d be worth it
The King of Pop died the three
Grandmother's photo box: Kjell sitting there in ballet shoes. No fucks given. Fighter pilot and gay. I'm left with newspaper articles from late 1916: The New York
, here's street wallet
Yeah, I got it, you can check my wallet I got cheese toppin', take chips from New York
Back to the tropics, see girl and her friends
party in New York
Texas I be screwed up, Chi town I be really pimping
But nothing like my hometown I'm forever living
Women, weed and weather
(They
it up for me when I'm stressed
You might catch me in Atlanta looking like a boss
New Orleans and then Miami, party in New York
Texas I be screwed
shops
Damn they tryna get my man what Saddam got
Say my name and wake these
Niggas up like alarm clocks
Niggas run away and they hide
Saying New York's
the people pass me by
It could be that it has no end
Just an action junkie's lullaby
New York City
We were full of the stuff that every dream rested
As if
the people pass me by
It could be that it has no end
Just an action junkie's lullaby
New York City
We were full of the stuff that every dream rested
As if
New York City! (Keith Turbo)
You're listening to the number one
The one and only (Keith Turbo)
Keith (Keith Turbo) Turbo
Pontiac GTO
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