a b c d e f g h i j k l m n o p q r s t u v w x y z 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 #

c-rayz walz - new york lyrics

c-rayz walz ft. swave sevah and double a.b. – “new york”
[emcee(s): swave sevah, double a.b., and c-rayz walz]
[producer(s): dub sonata]
[scratches: dj js-1]

[intro: samples with scratches by dj js-1]
“out in new york, the same sh-t is going on” – sample from nas – “one love” (x4)

[interlude 1: swave sevah and (c-rayz walz)]
yeah, yeah, swave sevah, you heard? (dub sonata) yeah, a.b., you heard? (c-rayz) yeah, nyc, you heard? (hah) yeah, where i’m from, yo. (where i’m from, yo) where you from, yo? (where you from, yo?) yeah, where we’re from, yo. (where we’re from, yo) yo, yo

[verse 1: swave sevah]
speak with hood predicate (what’s up, yo?). i’m an inner-city delegate (yup)
ghetto fabulous, school of hard knock graduate (do it honest)
call him “marauder,” walk the streets with a bop
prefer a revolver—don’t jam, easy to pop (pop, pop, pop, pop)
six shots, keep concealed. if the beef’s revealed (who want it?)
the flame from it is gonna help some beef get grilled (ill!)
chill. i’m being too violent. but understand
dawg, it’s not me. it’s my environment (not me), place i
reside in (word), area i was born and raised (right here)
where we roll dice and put the winners all on haze
where we keep privilège henny in a plastic cup and make
examples out of herb n-ggas acting tough (say it!)
that’s what’s up. you tell me when you’ve had enough (you had enough?)
so i can get back to bag it up. i’m a hustler, yo
swave sevah, i do war things (yup). trying
to keep my head above water like new orleans
(come and) walk with me down the streets where i’m from
yo, see how i’m living, come visit my slums (come on)
where some of the toughest n-ggas done p-ssed away (yup)
and we gon’ see if your b-tch -ss last a day (b-tch), p-ssy

[hook: all] (x2)
new york grimy, new york gully
new york sheisty, new york hungry
new york rejects, new york hustlers
new york criminals, new york customers

[verse 2: double a.b.]
i’m stuck in new york, open up the new york times
see who’s the new victims to new york crimes (d-mn)
make me want to cop a new four-five
about the size of them two large guys from booyah tribe
so if we play a game of “who’s more live?”
i’ma have a big surprise for you small fries (that’s right)
y’all ain’t men. y’all some ru paul guys
trying to tuck your d-ck, make your two b-lls high, f-cker
watch out dealing with dylan tucker
here’s an eight of trees. maggot, give me fifty like a drill instructor
filibuster filling busters with hot lead
i ain’t talking guns—i’ll stick a pencil through a cop’s head
stab him in the heart with a sharp pen, dead him
when i cl1ck the little b-tton part on the knife’s sharp end
i hock phlegm at these rappers in the top ten
‘cause i ain’t feeling rappers since krs and rakim

[hook: all] (x2)
new york grimy, new york gully
new york sheisty, new york hungry
new york rejects, new york hustlers
new york criminals, new york customers

[bridge 1: double a.b.]
(in new york) they’re popping chains and hopping trains
(in new york) hustlers run the blocks with things
(in new york) we got junkies and prost-tutes
(in new york) itchy-trigger-finger cops who shoot

[verse 3: c-rayz walz]
live from new york on sat-rday night. sunday morning’s for fools
the streets of new york, where every g rap like it’s kool
(grimy) catch me on the ave thinking differently, even though
the scenery clash (gully), heavy machinery blast
fools steal fiendery stash (sheisty)
central bookings. in central, look and get splashed (hungry)
for money, (rejects) on my -ss
cats wearing bugs, dogs smoking roaches approaching the ave
(hustlers, criminals) one and the same
son of a gun—when it’s on, i go get my pops and aim
one for the customers, two for the crack high off the notes
new york rap smugglers—that’s supplying the dope
the big apple. words that don’t go for flavor tackle or clap you
even b-tches hold a torch like that statue
liberty’s ill, my city is real. you’ll still get
busy and build. too gritty and witty to chill
come, walk with me down the streets where i’m from
yo, see how i’m living, coming visit my slum
where some of the richest pimps had their b-tches laid
and we gon’ see if your trick -ss last a day

[hook: all] (x2)
new york grimy, new york gully
new york sheisty, new york hungry
new york rejects, new york hustlers
new york criminals, new york customers

- c rayz walz lyrics

Random Lyrics

HOT LYRICS