Lyrics:
Urm one thing that
I have come to appreciate throughout making this album is
Is the different forms of love you can get
And I feel like
Everybody is
coming over to tell me "what's wrong?"
After i told them what's wrong
They tell the teacher to fix everything
Then the other kids playing in the playground
on pay roll
I roll with death like my crew is Billy and Mandy
You can get the lead like a kid with Mexican candy
Clean hands but got contacts that Randy
by
I was on a road trip somewhere new with my best friend, and turned to him and said
I wanna work part time, minimum wage, by myself, and preferably
DukeDaGod:
It's Dipset all day, The Movement Moves On
Cam'ron:
New York City, you are now tuned in to America's #1 station, Hot 97
In conjunction
world, winter war weather
This is wu-block music for the black hooded champions
Step in the car and go
Round down by your lady and I
Be waiting
Weirdest kid on the block zombies ate my neighbors
You the walking dead if its world war z from my metaphors
I'm The dawn of the dead king
(Wake up, wake up, wake up, wake up)
A spark by midnight
(Get up, get up, get up)
Shootin' 'round, movin' white
Ooh, baby, the block's hot just
Yeah be the realest shit I never wrote
I ain't write this shit by the way nigga
Some real shit right here nigga
This will be the realest shit you
Ayo, I break bread, ribs, hundred dollar bills
Peel on Ducatis and other four wheels
Write a book full of medicine and generate mills
Tour the album
[Verse 1:]
Yeah I run rings around your crew like a track star
So stay back far
You better understand who the macks are
A brand new invention
for the syndicate
[?] Lester on these blocks, boy, you in for it
Pushing for the King of New York, I see it
Gangsters try so hard but can't be it
Only
real.
I'm 'bout to do my thing to shine.
Said everybody
Shine.
See'mon."
It's not luck that I'm sittin' here
Spittin' for y'all.
Preeld in by
around you
Not here to bark and hound you, but
You're an archetype for kids like you and me
And if you keep at it you might catch as body in the streets
trace
Your girl starin' in my face at seven thousand feet
Turbo, jets in the cockpit
You flock with weak kids on the block with
For protection,
black cops in cars profilin
Hardcore kids in the West got stress
In the East we are chased by the same black beast
The black cop is the only real
chose I
I ain't gonna lie
What I look like turnin' down chocha
Drove by, smokin' lye
Recognize a pimp, open your eyes
Hop in the passenger side
as Stonehenge
Pledged whoever crossed his path get scrapped with a sledge
Hammer, he didn't give a damn about the manor
And on the block he was called by
Watch how you talk
Ooh Yeah
Watch how you walk
Ooh yeah
Get off my block
Block yeah
Look at my socks
Socks bitch
Watch how you talk
Ooh Yeah
Watch
“Blaaatts”
Or walk wit' a new bop, we got some new pots
I see some 40 bigs, I blew off homie wig
And run up in his house and kidnap his only kid
I got a new whip
And that girl wanna fuck me think I'm clueless
I might fuck her once and give her two kids
I just keep on grinding I need blue
bro, Jackson
By the time you get home, you be hearing this
We be rolling and dog we gon' be
On our King of New York shit
Do the King of New York dance
on the blocks
It's early in the morning I'm selling tumbs from my Reebok
Tres nicks and dimes I write rhymes
But the ghetto times they got the cheeks doing
on the blocks
It's early in the morning I'm selling tumbs from my reeboks
Tres nicks and dimes I write rhymes
But the ghetto times they got the cheeks doing
Discuss these by ts album new kids on the block Lyrics with the community:
Report Comment
We're doing our best to make sure our content is useful, accurate and safe.
If by any chance you spot an inappropriate comment while navigating through our website please use this form to let us know, and we'll take care of it shortly.
Attachment
You need to be logged in to favorite.
Log In