N.Y. State Of Mind Pt. II

(альбом: I Am - 1999)

Uhh yo
Whattup? Whattup?
It's time man (word, it's time?)
Straight up (it's time, man)
Aight, set that shit off (set it off then, nigga)
Set it off (set if off)

Broken glass in the hallway, bloodstained floors
Neighbors look at every bag you bring through your doors
Lock the top lock, momma should've cuffed me to the radiator
Why not? It might've saved me later from my block
N.Y. cops, hookers crawling off the stroll, coughing
Stitches in they head, stinking and I dread thinking they be snitching
But who else, could it be, shook at these, unmarked vans
Parked in the dark—NARC's, where's your heart?
Hustlers starve—they bust a U-ey, I jog
To my building—come out later wearing camouflage
See the sergeant and the captain—strangle men
Niggas gasping for air 'til they move no more and just stare
With dead eyes—tired of riots, shit is quiet
Simple-minded fools infiltrate grimy crews
Overcrowded cribs, uncles home from bids, sisters pregnant
Fathers on drugs, moms is smoking, beds is piss-infested
Had 8 partners growing up, 8 turned to 7
7 turned to 6 niggas, got 2 in heaven
6 of us holding it, now it's 5 rolling thick
The 6th one's parole flipped, 5 niggas went to 4 quick
When he went O.T., college life
Converted into gangbanging, 4 niggas still hanging
Years passing and slang changin'—3 of us now, 4th nigga ain't around
We all thought he was real—he did the snake shit
Fake shit—beat his ass down
Yo his mouth could've got us all wasted, what a fucking clown
All I got left in the end is 2 of my best friends
And we all going out to the death for these ends
What?

New York, New York (New York state of mind)
New York, New York (New York state of mind)

You heard about it, you see about it
You read about it, it's in your papers
It's in your daily news ("Get money!")
New York chronicles, every day
The crime rate, the murder rate
The money rate, the paper chase (aight?)
You know what I mean?
New York state of mind, baby (oh, yeah)
Check it out (yeah)

I'm at the gambling spot, my hands on a knot
New York Yankee cap cover my eyes, stand in one spot
I take a nigga dough, send him home to a shoebox
You lost that nigga I put your dollar in the jukebox
Hear my favorite song, all these niggas sing along
All the cigarette smoke's clogging my lungs
Hoodrats flashing they tongue
Young thugs blasting they gun, we got reputations
Bitches and niggas both on parole or probation
Shit is sick, niggas got gats, army fatigues
I got my eyes glued on whoever walk in or leave
'Cause I ain't playing, niggas'll run up in here and shoot up this shit
Stick yo' ass up, niggas'll find the loot in your kicks
Bunch of triple-cross niggas, just New York niggas
Lift you off your feet when they was just talking with you
Some of these dudes the Feds be on 'em, you knew 'em for years
Be the type when you walk in a pub, they offer you beers
That ain't gangsta, niggas is up North with tatted tears
Your name's on the affadavit, you ratted kid
Faggot-ass niggas that be scared to do they bids
Fuck you, we run you out of N.Y., you can't live
Got your quiet niggas, that relocated down South
Coming back to floss, then you got the jealous loudmouths
All of a sudden we got Crips and Bloods, D.T.'s
Running round quick to split your mug, it's easy
To score but it's hard to get the shit off
Niggas fighting over hundred sales, jump in the car and drive off
When the fiend come around the block, happy as hell
Niggas mad 'cause they ain't get a piece of that sale
Cutthroat connivers, universal, ghetto survivors
Go to any hood that's live and make it liver
A lot of niggas scheming, some real, some niggas fronting
But I'm a big dreamer, so watch me come up with something

New York, New York
New York, New York