Nas

Nas - Ny State Of Mind Part Ii songtekst

Je score:

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 shit off
 (Set it off then nigga, set it off)

 Broken glass 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 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 riots, shit is quiet
 Simple-minded fools infiltrate grimy crews
 Overcrowded cribs, uncles home from bids, sister's pregnant
 father's on drugs, moms is smokin, beds is piss-infested
 Had eight partners growin up, eight turned to seven
 Seven turned to six niggaz, got two in heaven
 Six of us, holdin it, now it's five rollin thick
 The sixth one's parole flipped; five niggaz, went to fo' quick
 when he went O.T., college life, converted into gangbangin
 Four niggaz still hangin, years passed and slang changin
 Three of us now, fourth 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 fuckin clown
 All I got left in the end is two of my best friends
 And we all goin out, to the death for these ends, WHAT?

 New York, New York ("New York state of mind" - Rakim)
 New York, New York ("New York state of mind" - Rakim)
 *repeat while Nas is talking*

 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

 [Nas]
 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 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 niggaz sing along
 All the ciggarette smoke's cloggin my lungs, hoodrats flashin they tongue
 Young thugs blastin they gun, we got reputations
 Bitches and niggaz both on parole or probation
 Shit is sick, niggaz got gats, army fatigues
 I got my eyes glued on, whoever walk in the lead
 Cause I ain't playin, niggaz'll run up in here and shoot up this shit
 Stick yo' ass up, niggaz'll find the loot in your kicks
 Bunch of triple-cross niggaz, just New York niggaz
 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, niggaz is up North with tatted tears
 Your name's on the affadavit, you ratted kid
 Faggot-ass niggaz that be scared to do they bids
 Fuck you, we run you out of N.Y, you can't live
 Got your quiet niggaz, 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 shit off
 Niggaz fightin over hundred sales, jump in the car and drive off
 When the fiend come around the block, happy as hell
 Niggaz, 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 niggaz scheamin, some real, some niggaz frontin
 But I'm a big dreamer, so watch me come up with somethin

 New York, New York
 New York, New York
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Copyrights:

Auteur: ?

Componist: ?

Publisher: Columbia, Columbia

Details:

Uitgegeven in: 1999

Taal: Engels

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