Nas - N.Y. State of Mind, Pt. 3 lyrics

Uhh Yo, yo-yo, y'all Whattup? Whattup It's time man (Word, it's time?) Straight up, it's time man Aight, set that sh** off (Set it off then n***a, set it off) Broken gla** in the hallway, bloodstained floors Neighbors, look at every bag you bring through your doors Lock the top lock, momma shoulda cuffed me to the radiator Why not? It might've saved later from my block N.Y. cops, hookers crawlin off the stroll, coughin Stitches in they head, stinkin and I dread thinkin they be Snitchin But who else, could it be, shook at these, unmarked vans Parked in the dark -- NARC's, where's your heart? Hustlers starvethey bust a U-e I jog To my building -- come out later wearin camouflage See the sergeant and the captain -- strangle men n***as gaspin for airtil they move no more and just stare With dead eyes -- tired of riots, sh** is quiet Simple-minded fools infiltrate grimy crews Overcrowded cribs, uncles home from bids, sister's pregnant Father's on d**, moms is smokin, beds is piss-infested Had eight partners growin up, eight turned to seven Seven turned to six n***as, got two in heaven Six of us, holdin it, now it's five rollin thick The sixth one's parole flippedfive n***as, went to fo' quick When he went O.T., college life, converted into g**nin Four n***as still hangin, years pa**ed and slang changin Three of us now, fourth n***a ain't around We all thought he was real -- he did the snake sh** Fake sh** -- beat his a** down, yo his mouth Could've got us all wasted, what a f**in clown All I got left in the end is two of my best friends And we all goin out, to the d**h for these ends, WHAT? 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, youknowhatImean? New York state of mind baby, check it out I'm at the, gamblin spot, my hands on a knot New York Yankee cap cover my eyes, stand in one spot I take a n***a dough, send him home, to a shoebox You lost that n***a I put your dollar in the jukebox Hear my favorite song, all these n***as sing along All the cigarette smoke's cloggin my lungs, hoodrats flashin They tongue Young thugs blastin they gun, we got reputations b**hes and n***as both on parole or probation sh** is sick, n***as got gats, army fatigues I got my eyes glued on, whoever walk in the lead Cause I ain't playin, n***as'll run up in here and shoot up This sh** Stick yo' a** up, n***as'll find the loot in your kicks Bunch of triple-cross n***as, just New York n***as Lift you off your feet when they was just talkin 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, n***as is up North with tatted tears Your name's on the affadavit, you ratted kid f*ggot-a** n***as that be scared to do they bids f** you, we run you out of N.Y, you can't live Got your quiet n***as, that relocated down South Comin back to floss, then you got the jealous loudmouths All of a sudden we got Crips and Bloods, D.T.'s Runnin round quick to split your mug, it's ea-sy to score But it's hard to get the sh** off n***as fightin over hundred sales, jump in the car and drive Off When the fiend come around the block, happy as hell n***as, 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 n***as scheamin, some real, some n***as frontin But I'm a big dreamer, so watch me come up with somethin New York, New York New York, New York