Lyrics:
Lucky for you, that's what I like, that's what I like
Sex by the fire at night
Silk sheets and diamonds all white
Lucky for you, that's what I like
Tied to the same folk who loved you
And then used blood for the pie
Sick don’t look like it used to
And hearts can't eat off your fork
This goes out
But this my call by the false Prophet, all Prophet
Harlem hustle, I can't at all knock it
But you hard when you go in the Lords pocket
What you
wanted black, E was on the two-tone
Stupid boomin system with the hand-free phone
The dream gets better and I would like to go on
But I was brought back
signed us?
What if Oprah made them comments
Like Imus?
What if you designed this
Thought like I did?
Said it like this
What if Peyton was fighting
This is the third of June, 1988
A highly unimportant day
Some airplane gliding into one of the bigger clouds over Manhattan
In a downtown far
pants ain't got no pockets
I got invasive thoughts, why can't I drop em
And I made this song cause my brain sound like this
Why the fuck you think I'm
diesel
How the fuck is this for an encore
This might just be my come up
Come up like I climbed up the Manhattan
Run up on a homie get done up
I was like
bout the homies
So oblivious and its so obvious
No ventriloquist those lobbyist
They be the sloppiest they just try to copy this
Like your boy right here
ain’t snapchat won’t see me like a catfish
This the time of year where it’s dope to be in Staten
So ride the ferry at night catch the breeze out Manhattan
Tired of these rappers, tired of these jackers
I'm tired of these dances by these fuckin' backpackers
And I'm sick of all these hipsters, I'm sick
signed us?
What if Oprah made them comments
Like Imus?
What if you designed this
Thought like I did?
Said it like this
What if Peyton was fighting
to the left of my passenger door
with a hundred-twenty hours to diffuse it or lose it
Got to need to relate to this queen like music
Or else, else or go from
told you
I had no other alternative but to fucking come clean this shit up
You know what I'm saying
And now y'all niggas is like, oh, what we gonna do
[Fat Joe]
Yeah
This is goin out..
To all the live motherfuckers, knowhatI'msayin?
All the real niggaz
Bronx, Brooklyn, Manhattan, Queens
come home, she kiss him through the phone
But y'all ain't ever do what you rappin'
Yankee fitted, barrel kickin' like it's Snoop in Manhattan, Norf
that Dipset
This that Brooklyn
Bronx Manhattan Queens shit
This like the first time I heard
The 10 Crack Commandments
Dj Bremiere and B.I.G
Had me
and
Awe-inspiring than the twinkling stars
We sing about in nursery rhymes
The fires that burn inside us are
More contained and concealed and
Maybe this isn't such
to switch up
I hope you remember me by
I wish I could've been your guy
But I won't see that day
I wanted you to be my bae
Five years I liked you I know that
Close to your heart like a necklace
In private events, Kevin Liles and John Gotti
Trey Songz and even Trey’s mom what a party
This the life that I’m livin
Grip the mic, dreaming I might, end up on stages blinded by lights
36 Chambers, use my brain for this chess game
I use these 16s and 4 chambers with pen
than Harlem to northern Manhattan and maintain
Get off at 181st, and take the escalator
I hope you're writing this down, I'm gonna test ya later
I'm
On that fire escape
Can you remind me of what it was like
At the top of the world?
Come with me
We begin July
With a stop at my corner fire hydrant
of the plane and my mom was complaining about it it was getting annoying then the plane flew right in between the Manhattan Bridge or some thing that looks like
Discuss these nites like this by the manhattans 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