Them city streets cold, they’ll crack on you if you not cautious
See where I’m from, you got humbled before you got pompous
But from uptown to down where that Lower East be
They be like “You heard white dude? That boy beastie”
Please believe me, beneath my lines where the heat be
Rap game equator you act lame I hate it that lack range of data
We could never be the same
We don’t let you take no shots if we know you don’t got the range homie
That’s how we do in the Apple that’s been allowed to rot
Manhattan crowded blocks, the faces unfamiliar
Bodegas turned Chipotle, say goodbye to La Familia and hello to Johnny work at JP Morgan for the scrilla
Manhattan; where all culture’s fuckin underground now cause to stand on land too expensive, we movin out now
They try and keep the truth locked up back where you can’t go far
My words break open them doors, I’m spittin crowbars, shit
This that fuck a happy critic or a fashion gimmick
Summertime, kick my fuckin chancla off and slap you wit it
Hell’s Kitchen raised me and Harlem was like my uncle
‘07 hit the Aunt Jackie and baby [?]
So I don’t got time if they don’t care about the culture
You don’t get to be New York just cause this where you eat your supper, for real
So what you do to save the land I love?
Shit, you gon have to pay a toll for that bacon egg on the roll, that’s word
Lyrics provided by LRCLIB
