New York

(This is, this is, this is, this is, this is)

(This is, this is)

I got a hunnid guns

Uh

I got a hunnid guns, a hunnid clips

****, I'm from New York

(New York)

I got a semi automatic that spits next time if you talk

(You talk)

I got a hunnid guns, a hunnid clips

****, I'm from New York

(New York)

I got a semi automatic that spits next time if you talk

(You talk)

And I know

Y'all **** is pussy, poonani, vagina

Your monologue's getting tired, now

It's time to ride

'Apprentice' you fired

You're no longer desired

So take off them silly chains

Put back on your wire

I'm on fire!

Harley dipped in octane

Let East Coast bang!

Let West Coast bang!

And Rule gon' bring the ghetto gospel

To every hood possible

Pushin' through in the sky blue

Back with the gods, you now

Preferably the 4 pound

Slugs flyin' at the speed of sound

Tryna catch the ears of ****

That's runnin' they mouths

I might get my Brooklyn ****

To run in your house

I don't really understand

What the runnin's about

But we hunters

We take pride in airin' our prey out

Leavin' 'em laid out, dead

In just a sport

'Cause we ain't playin'

Up here in New York!

I got a hunnid guns, a hunnid clips

****, I'm from New York

(New York)

And you can tell the way the homie spit

That ****, I'm from New York

(New York)

I got a hunnid ways to make a grip

Yes, I'm from New York

(New York)

And you can tell I get real ignorant

'Cause ****, I'm from New York

(New York)

And this is how we do

****, I can see the coke in your nose

This ain't a movie

Even he got his head blown on the globe

And I was just about to find God

But now that Ma$e is back

I think I'd much rather find a menage!

And everybody talkin' crazy

How they AK's spit

But we done did some 'vestigatin'

And they ain't spray shit!

Not me, I'm the truth homie

Got the industry shook like

"Nah ****, Joe gonna let 'em loose on me! "

'True Story' I'm bringin' the team back

Even Roy Jones was forced to lean back

My **** Dre said, "Grind, Cook"

Now we killin' 'em hard

**** sayin' I musta found Pun's rhyme book

Got bitches on top of the Phantom

And the pinky got bling

Like the ring around Saturn

'Cook-Coke-Crack'

**** fiend for that

And you already know the X

Is where the team be at!

I got a hundred guns, a hundred clips

****, I'm from New York

(New York)

Ruff Ryder, and D-Block and shit

****, fuck what you thought

(You thought)

And you can't take shit for granted

'Cause life is too short

(Too short)

I got a hundred guns, a hundred clips

****, I'm from New York

(Aaahaa!)

And this is how we do

I swear, it couldn't be sweeter

Life's a bitch

Depending on how you treat her

You might get rich

It's guaranteed you gonna die

And you might get missed

For maybe 2 or 3 hours

Till they light they spliffs

And that coke

Could get you a long time

But when I let 'em know the dope is out

It's like 'America Online'

Wise is awoken

And you know they say that you deserved it

Whenever you die with your eyes open

I still hold the title

'Cause I'm in the hood

Like them little motorcycles

Stick up kids hoppin' out

With the old rifles

Just doin' shit for nothin'

It's so spiteful

Ha, I'm just like you!

The word that **** wanna murk you

Is in the air

A double shot of 'gnac and the purple

Is in the air

And I'm not cocky, I'm confident

So when you tell me I'm the best

It's a compliment!

(Aaahaa!)

I got a hunnid guns, a hunnid clips

****, I'm from New York

(New York)

And you can tell the way the homie spit

That **** I'm from New York

(New York)

I got a hunnid guns, a hunnid clips

****, I'm from New York

(New York)

I got a semi automatic that spits

Next time if you talk

(Aaahaa!)

And this is how we do!