Ty Fyffe - New York lyrics

[Intro: 2Pac] [Hook: Tony Yayo] My city never sleep up in New York Models turn to stars up in New York Gym stars in that mouth up in New York Time Square stay lit up in New York [Verse 1: Tony Yayo] (Break it down now!) Yeah! n***as saying that NY hit, but Jay's on the charts and 50′s still rich Diddy milking the game, Ciroc was a hit Harlem n***a with the marketing sk**s of Rich NY n***a set trends (what else!?) Dip Set n***as set trends (what else!?) Never seen so much groupies on a tour bus The first time I rolled Nasty Nas tour bus And damn near cried when he signed to Murder Inc Ja was selling records, I was selling crack on a bench Ruff Ryders, D-Block had the streets Was on that Cash Money tour with DMX and Swizz Beats How many MC's must get this Don't make yourself a market your soul get lift And when the ball drop, I'm in a new drop John Gotti fireworks on the rooftop [Hook] [Verse 2: Uncle Murda] n***as acting like New York ain't the livest city (BROOKLYN) Acting like Nas ain't say I remind them of Biggie (I agree) Mobb Deep had shooked once standing in the crib M.O.P. had n***as running up in n***as cribs The Wu rolling 30 deep on some grimy sh** Puff and Mase dancing, wearing that shiny sh** (they was winning!) I'm stuck on that old Jay, don't ask me how come I prefer his old sh**, I bump his old albums The Reasonable Doubt, Hard Knock Life and the Blueprint (Cla**ic!) Make me just want to get money, pimp, and shoot sh** When Fab throw a party, all the hoes come out We ain't (?) on the couch, pouring patron in their mouth On Twitter, Trinidad James wrote I'm a legend I was still going to still violate him, but Maino already checked him n***as drink, drink, pop molly and start sweatin' Talk reckless, then apologize when we press em [Hook] [Verse 3: Joell Ortiz] n***a NY is everything, Diddy Bop, heavy bling Bright lights night life, White right from the Medellín Mula is an order, Shooters on every corner You ain't for a tough find your medulla in your explorer You come through flexing leave with one shoe, sweatin' My knuckles DJ who wanna 1,2 second You dealin' with a real n***a from New York Trinidad I don't know what the f** you thought n***a my cake is ok without that radio play Book a show date tomor sell it out the same day I don't wait on club lines, n***as rush me in the party Can't even walk in these streets without a Yaowa from somebody Hell look at you cowards lookin' sloppy, chill My life grand cause shooters keep it a thousand with the papi Frontin' with papa willy like a brand new Kawasaki Stretch a figure on the hill with a round from out the tommy I rappin' for these streets, these n***as singin' bout a molly I'm still 501 these n***as yoga and palati If I ain't in this booth laying vocals, then I'm probably In my pent house pokin' on a Molly