KOOL KEITH - New York City lyrics

[Chorus x4: singer]

Are you sure you wanna go, to New York City (New York City)

[Kool Keith]

New York City's finest, the added attraction next to your man

Popular name, I'm Mark Minus

Negative, is that the best vocals you give

I pass the structure, you think it's okay, Motown needs to see me

Deliver your cassette, amateurs embarass me

Give me somethin to play, I sit in the big meetings with Damon Dash

Urinate on your shoulders, my delivery is arrogant

I expect cash, don't play anything cartoon in front of Mike Biv

Ask Hyram Hicks, I put my face in the console

My engineer's sharp, I thought you spit on hits

Oh you Spike now, wearin Allen

You sportin Houston's kicks, Central Park West

You rhyme and practice

While I hang out with the Dominican Republic

I keep the Sony Cam, between crushes

I take all Spanish chicks, international rapper

On tight bars with the Spanish mix

Hittin Spanish licks

[Chorus]

[uncredited rapper]

Statues, buildings, street killings, living could be heaven

Pimps {?} thugs, nothing given driven

The Penthouse look is dope cookers jukers

The high price, hookers gamblers pushers

Subways no way, cab some days

Town call always I all days

Honest but dishonest, regardless

I'm heartless, cause money is endless

No heart to get clipped you trip you'll get clipped

The weak will slip, hit is what they get

Heat spark avoid the jack don't talk gun spark

All money sharks in New York

Money's fast, the city ain't slow

The papes low, in all those boroughs, yo

[Chorus]

[uncredited rapper]

Yo, yo

I love the dirty blocks, my thugs at the corner movin that stuff

Controllin the spot, I like the city yo we move quickly

Where the streets talk a lot, yo (uh-huh, yo)

And if you snitch them kids'll get you at the chicken spot

And rock big leathers, and match the Timbs up

Lace the kicks up, the new fitted (new fitted)

A long chains make the chickens get real hot

Stop playin, it's the Big Apple

We take a bite out, conference calls blow ten thousand (yeah)

Bungalo six baby, on just a night out (woo!)

The Westside highway, I test my heat out

Five deep, we move fast and blow the seats out

The streets peak out, they like the Claybornes

Come through, yo we make the streets stop

I know your head bop, New York City (New York)

Where cats wild out and jacks just go out

[Chorus x2: to fade]