Lyrics
Lettin niggas talk that New York New York shit
What the fucks the deal?
No doubt motherfucker, what the fucks the deal man
Faggot ass niggas, niggas in New York be lettin niggas shit on em Frontin ass niggas
First you drinkin snapple now you sippin' Moe?
Just cause you livin', ain’t no reason for you to be shittin faggot
Word… Go getcha guns
Some nights I wake up out my sleep blastin
Get some water for my aspirin
My life fashion, gold chains guns and cash and
I’m askin' do I got to be king of action
Fuck a player fame New York is still the same
A Queens thing
Representin Flush reigns supreme
Its a scheme just to overpower your team wit cream
Man you sensitive, how you let these cats shit on your residence
With fake robberies, who shot who wit no evidence
Im bringin it, tired of niggas sittin back and seein it
'Scape thru the light penetrate streets is trife
Representin' from the lands of the guns and good smoke
Heavy shines, poppin them lines and cut throats
Don’t provoke and getcha team smoke for broke and no joke
You just a boy, you not bad enough to compete, to challenge us
I’m bustin' off the guns wit the silencers
Word… New York New York big city of dreams
Comin' from Queens, where we dont get caught up in between
Wit the nonsense, all these pussy niggas actin sex
Take it off your chest, bring it to the desert where I rest
South east to west, busting straight slugs thru your vest
Chorus
Worldwide, worldwide, wherever people startin
Keep your mind on Queens when the dog starts barkin
Verse 2
Its time to dead your whole situation
New York is full of murderers, guns and court cases
Baggin' wit razors, Remy, no chaser
That be that wasteland flavor
It’s major, vibratin thru the states like a pager
Who’s the one to blame
When you get stuck for gold chains
Shootin' close range, half of these niggas died in the game
It’s a city thing, blastin' at cops by all means
Keep it real thru out Queens
Catchin jooks for CREAM
On a tapped phone, fuckin wit niggas thats far from home
G-S's chrome, makin' power moves like Capone
Shits zone fuckin wit nigga Flush holds his own
Guarnateed to blow, puffin on trees do I go
Way low, kidnappin' children for dough thats how it go Based on criminal minds, traces are hard to find
To commit crime, half of these niggas is droppin dimes
Yet in time, blowin your block just like a mine
Flush in design, keep my neck flooded with shine
Im out to get it, you still somethin sweet
Go get your heat and your peeps
And find your body parts on the streets
Chorus