Lyrics:
tapes, I'm always on his mind
Nonsense, not to be obnoxious kid
Mega for the record you could suck my dick
Bitch you from around the way its sad what
Ayo check this out son
This is my man Nas Escobar
And I go by the name of Cormega you know
(you gonna get your self murdered)
Yo check this out
The city’s so chill
The city’s so chill
The city’s so chill
I was born in '92 the blizzard was in '96
It's was a cold New York night and this kid
ear
Yea, we're at the airport out decline from the block
Where everybody air-forced-out
With a new white Tee, you fresh
Nothin' phony with us, make
I send two niggas back up top, and come back
We chop up rock, by midnight, we open up shop
It's four in the mornin', we on the block creepin'
I know consistency is key
But it's hard to stay consistent, when you're in the mix and consistently a G
I'm still dishin' out them keys, so I'm
ya by yourself ya number hit me up yup
You bitches is messy I kid you not
You niggas is messy dime a dozen on the block
You and your cousin
Nevermind
leaving me no choice, but to raise these three kids all by myself
I will not wait for you
A gift
To come home
I threw the candles out
Left your food
Yea, we're at the airport out decline from the block
Where everybody air-forced-out
With a new white Tee, you fresh
Nothin' phony with us, make
[voice in background]
Yeah, you in tune to another episode in my area code
All sorts of episodes in my area code
Where the blocks explode, where
the valley, kids in the valley aye
I'm servin' I'm choppin new shit and it's boppin
This shit the finale aye
Kids in the valley, kids in the valley, kids in
believe how many times the city erupt
I became the biggest talk of the town, second to none
The new kid on the block and the fresh air in they lungs
My old
true G)
(What you got's) A concoction of some different ghetto blocks
(West Coast kill the tracks) East Coast gunshots
He a Compton-Compton O.G
(Mix
true G)
(What you got's) A concoction of some different ghetto blocks
(West Coast kill the tracks) East Coast gunshots
He a Compton-Compton O.G
(Mix
the first time
Kids in my block going
Loco they busting through my front door
My two piece pretty polos
PJs with the loafs tho
Kick me round the block
My fleet goals, by da creep cold
We blaze, y'all won't see those, you just feel 'em
We raise the states in this game, like helium
The new
at the store
I got a box of socks and a million mega blocks
And a polisher of rocks and a couple cuckoo clocks
And a brand new mailbox or a cd by the knox
born, uh
To meet up with this kid by the name of X
Had to go to him 'cause he was on house arrest, nonetheless
Our first time meetin', we was always
Pull up in the car with a new bitch in it
Circle 'round the block
Now I got two bitch in it
Never runnin' out because my juice infinite
I'm just out
show up|When they ask they find out fast I'm a big dog not a little pup||I'm the new kid on the block|Got a lot to say on my way to the top|More like
clones
I'm getting on for being realer
I'mma get mine 'til the world don't spin
Cruising down the block trying
To clock my ends
Old school Caddy or a new
up in
New York my whole life i would
Go to the block and hang out with
My home girls on the weekend
And then Monday through Friday I was
Having
about that Paper
New kids on the block
What's your name
What your sign
People this our time
Who could blame us for trying
Now hold up wait up just
I be the worst like nick
To all them m.c. thugs
Like them four little kids
And the teacher gettin' plugged
I don't give a fuck style
Tell me
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