New York Times (feat. 50 Cent & Bas)

This for all my **** in the city

But this shit really for Queens though

Really for Queens though

You know?

Big city of dreams, motivated by schemes

Getting money regimen

With my getting money regime

Nah I mean?

Yeah

Yeah, New York Times

Come listen to these New York rhymes

A southern **** with a New York mind

In the concrete jungle of Queens, trying to be kings

Getting to the money of sins by any means

As I watch it all pan out, try not to stand out

Fish out of water, yet an official reporter

Up here, life is a bitch, I blow a kiss at her daughter

In the city where ****'ll leave your shit outta order

So, yeah, you heard the news, disturbing news

Shot **** brother in the head, thank the Lord he ain't dead

Was in the coma for months, eyes ain't open, not once

My **** visibly stressed in a mess, he's smoking his blunt

What could I say, I can't relate to that

All I do is pray for that

This the city God told me, go and make it at

I got a date with destiny, I'm running late for that

Grab a paper, hey kid, you gotta pay for that

The New York Times, yeah

The New York Times

(Extra, extra, read all about it)

They say you can win anywhere if you can win here

And you ain't been nowhere if you ain't been here

Hustle hard, yeah, it really ain't a game, mane

Same places, different faces on the train, mane

New York, New York

Hop on the F Train, took the express train

Skip that local shit, my vocal's sick, that's how success came

Once kings, now we pawns in this chess game

Wall Street got black slave blood stains

Which means we built this city

And never got scraps while the devil got fat

In fact, reparations for **** in desperation

Fuck money, give my kid a real education

Blood money spills, had a real revelation

Southside make you realize there's still segregation

Don't wanna preach, I'm just thinking out loud

Sometimes I wanna save the world and I be thinking 'bout how

My motive to lead my **** to paradise

Imagine the world free from pain and we no longer scared at night

Far from the crime, the blind leading the blind

We don't make the primetime till we dying

The New York Times

The New York Times, yeah

The New York Times

(Extra, extra, read all about it)

They say you can win anywhere if you can win here

And you ain't been nowhere if you ain't been here

Hustle hard, yeah, it really ain't a game, mane

Same places, different faces on the train, mane

New York, New York

How I go from selling reefer and plates

To eating steaks with Cole and playing FIFA with Drake?

Should've been in the stakes, property of the Jakes

Now I'm plotting on profits and properties on the lake

Let me properly integrate you to it

To show you how the heads of states and the gangsters do it

Them **** talk a lot of shit but they ain't been through it

I done been up in everything, cars you never seen

Cities you never heard of

From the streets where they murder

Police observe us till they reach the verdict

Kill 'em all, fuck it, kill 'em all

If you can't send 'em to the pen, send 'em to the morgue

Send 'em to the Lord, fuck it, send his broad

Hundred shots through the dark but they never hit my heart, ****

Bitch ****, take a pause

Hundred shots through the dark, you could never hit my heart

New York Times

The New York Times, yeah

The New York Times

(Extra, extra, read all about it)

They say you can win anywhere if you can win here

And you ain't been nowhere if you ain't been here

Hustle hard, yeah, it really ain't a game, mane

Same places, different faces on the train, mane

New York, New York