Lyrics:
the garbage in the snow
But that's not what I'm here to tell you about
I'm here to talk about the draft
They got a buildin' down in New York City called
of New York, most of the rides were trucks until I reached the Hudson Bay and began to hitch in small mail planes. The pilots were usually guys who'd gone
on bitches and foreign hoes
Flyin' out womens to boring shows
I pray to God I don't overdose
I put A$AP on my tat (woo!), I put New York on the map (woo!)
surrounded by hatred and lust
Angels and dust, cocaine and sluts
Dangerous thugs, blaze you with guns
Lace you with drugs
Murderous cyborgs disguised as blind
I'm in New York we treeshy
Aye
Then I left when she said that she need me need me
Blind to the hate like I'm Stevie
Aye
Yo bitch fuckin with me
imma go out defiant
Money my mind I just spend like a client my dawgs in New York and they ball like a Giant
Living this life they been lying,
plains
The New York chill and Seattle rains
Go see the sun set over the western sea
I'll take it all from thirty thousand feet
Where we got stewardesses
Mally G
Whip a nigga ass for free
And makin sure he see visions of me
Rampage the talk of the town
The stalker of New York that fucks up the underground
Smokin on gas get high like a pilot
Keep smokin on za cuz that shit get me higher
And my girl said she hate me she said imma liar
I'm back ina booth
aufn Teppich wenn du ein echter Meister
Des HipHops werden willst, musst
Du auch wissen
Wo er herkommt: Amerika es hat alles
In New York angefangen und
at?
Just got to New York like a gnat on a jet
To London, to Brazil, to Quebec
Like the whole damn world took effect to Ferg
Tell 'em
Lay back,
still pull off a New York walk by
Keep tryin' talk fly
I talk fly, verbalize a pilot
Poetic fertilizer that's lyrical shit
Hip-hop die but we
In the streets of New York
Dope fiends are leaning for morphine
The TV screen followed the homicide scenes
You live here, you're taking a chance
lay
It's hard to survive nigga or
The high where you stay
I'm important like the Pope
I'm the king of New York
I'm live from South Central
I'm a Muslim
Walk from new york to los angeles and throw the bones away
You gotta be born blind and cannot see
Yo' bitches have the pocks in the ass so bad they
were in the New York Times obituary
There's no record, no tape, no book, no movie
Some photographs and some memories
Sometimes I dial your phone
And ain't nothin' wrong with standing still and relax
And spendin' some of that cash that Uncle Sam is gonna tax
A New York demeanor, sit back in the beamer
Remember how I'd fly to you?
And I can't talk to you when you're like this
Staring out the window like I'm not your favorite town
I'm New York City
I
can fool the rest of the world, long as New York know
Tried to overlook us, nearly went blind 'cause they couldn't
Worked they pupils to the limit
the A train in a New York state of mind
But I rep West side, so I keep L.A. time
That's a three-hour difference
So when my bitch is a six, she's really a nine
hoppin off the A train in a New York state of mind
But I rep Westside, so I keep L.A. time
That's a three-hour difference;
So when my bitch is a six,
NO PITY LYRICS
I am a beast coming up from the east dog without a leash I’m released how can I be locked down New York City home of the Grimey
yo,
I'm a bad what? bout to get a mani-ped
I'm the big bad wolf and your granny dead
Even though I'm in Mexico
I rep New York like Plexico
Look, switch
survive staying on my grind
I shine time after time the New York Times
Not about gangs but will throw up some gang signs
High as a kite what I used to be
Discuss these new york by blind pilot 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