Lyric NY State Of Mind Pt II - NAS

Lyric Song NY State Of Mind Pt II: Nas
Uhh
Yoyo yoy all
Whattup Whattup
It s time man Wordit s time
Straight upit s time man
Aightset that shit off
Set it off then niggaset it off
Broken glass in the hallwaybloodstained floors
Neighborslook at every bag you bring through your doors
Lock the top lockmomma shoulda cuffed me to the radiator
Why not It might ve saved later from my block
NY copshookers crawlin off the strollcoughin
stitches in they headstinkin and I dread thinkin they be snitchin
But who elsecould it beshook at theseunmarked vans
Parked in the dark NARC swhere s your heart
Hustlers starve; they bust a U e I jog
to my building come out later wearin camouflage
See the sergeant and the captain strangle men
Niggaz gaspin for air; til they move no more and just stare
with dead eyes tired of riotsshit is quiet
Simple minded fools infiltrate grimy crews
Overcrowded cribsuncles home from bidssister s pregnant
father s on drugsmoms is smokinbeds is piss infested
Had eight partners growin upeight turned to seven
Seven turned to six niggazgot two in heaven
Six of usholdin itnow it s five rollin thick
The sixth one s parole flipped; five niggazwent to fo quick
when he went OTcollege lifeconverted into in
Four niggaz still hanginyears passed and slang changin
Three of us nowfourth nigga ain t around
We all thought he was real he did the snake shit
Fake shit beat his ass downyo his mouth
could ve got us all wastedwhat a in clown
All I got left in the end is two of my best friends
And we all goin outto the death for these endsWHAT
New YorkNew York yquot;New York state of mindyquot; ygt; Rakim
New YorkNew York yquot;New York state of mindyquot; ygt; Rakim
repeat while Nas is talking
You heard about ityou see about it
You read about itit s in your papers
It s in your daily news yquot;Get money!yquot;
New York chroniclesevery day
The crime ratethe murder rate
The money ratethe paper chaseyouknowhatImean
New York state of mind babycheck it out
Nas
I m at thegamblin spotmy hands on a knot
New York Yankee cap cover my eyesstand in one spot
I take a nigga doughsend him hometo a shoebox
You lost that nigga I put your dollar in the jukebox
Hear my favorite songall these niggaz sing along
All the ciggarette smoke s cloggin my lungshoodrats flashin they tongue
Young thugs blastin they gunwe got reputations
Bitches and niggaz both on parole or probation
Shit is sickniggaz got gatsarmy fatigues
I got my eyes glued onwhoever walk in the lead
Cause I ain t playinniggaz ll run up in here and shoot up
Stick yo ass upniggaz ll find the loot in your kicks
Bunch of triple cross niggazjust New York niggaz
Lift you off your feet when they was just talkin with you
Some of these dudes the Feds be on emyou knew em for years
Be the type when you walk in a pubthey offer you beers
That ain t gangstaniggaz is up North with tatted tears
Your name s on the affadavityou ratted kid
Faggot ass niggaz that be scared to do they bids
youwe run you out of NYyou can t live
Got your quiet niggazthat relocated down South
comin back to flossthen you got the jealous loudmouths
All of a sudden we got Crips and BloodsDT s
runnin round quick to split your mugit s ea sy to score
but it s hard to get the shit off
Niggaz fightin over hundred salesjump in the car and drive off
When the fiend come around the blockhappy as hell
Niggazmad cause they ain t get a piece of that sale
Cutthroat conniversuniversalghetto survivors
Go to any hood that s live and make it liver
A lot of niggaz scheaminsome realsome niggaz frontin
But I m a big dreamerso watch me come up with somethin
New YorkNew York
New YorkNew York