B.A.M. feat. Lil' Fame - My City | Текст песни

• Тексты песен
• B.A.M. feat. Lil' Fame
• My City

[Verse 1: B.A.M.]

My talk is New York, my walk is New York home of 9/11 military soldiers in the streets of New York

We grindin’ in New York, We shinin’ in New York, all my niggas on the block pop shots makin’ it hot in New York

Crooked cops in New York, body drop in New York, my city never sleeps you can feel the rhythm of the heartbeat

Two turntables in the park Hip-Hop born in New York, better tuck ya chain we bringin’ the pain from New York

Rebels put your fist in the air, ballers put your fist in the air for the home of the crooks home of the gully ice grill looks

Projects is hot we poppin’ alarmers up in New York, we don’t pop the collar though we bring the drama here in New York

Tennant club up home base tunnel yea thugs runnin’ New York, ante up you shook throw it way back like a 8 ball jux

Gods & Earths in New York now it’s all about the heat now Uptown 5 per centers mathematics universal beat downs `

Eighteen extortions Brooklyn two guns up Fort Greene, R.I.P JMJ, Freaky Tah Southside Jamaica Queens, Big L Harlem Apollo when you leave with shattered dreams triple beams for cream we scheme in them Cadillacs on lean

[Hook: B.A.M.]

My talk is New York, my walk is New York home of 9/11 military soldiers in the streets of New York

We grindin’ in New York, We shinin’ in New York, all my niggas on the block pop shots makin’ it hot in New York

Crooked cops in New York, body drop in New York, my city never sleeps you can feel the rhythm of the heartbeat

Two turntables in the park Hip-Hop born in New York, better tuck ya chain we bringin’ the pain from New York

[Verse 2: Lil Fame]

I got safe in the gut wit money in the stash, M.O.P.’s on the front line Brooklyn’s in the back

It’s the home of Al Capone, the home of Bugsy Siegel, the home of John Gotti home of the armed robbery

It’s New York the PJs where pistols are sloppy where we throw dice and hustle that blow trees and guzzle yak

Sharks in water life’s a gamble, but you a dolph and I’ll put a hole in ya head like Shamu

Dress code, dress shirt, dress pants and hard bottom shoes flash back to them Hill Street Blues

I’m a stand up nigga so no one will have to jail me duke I gets my block on call me Fizzy Womack I’m back

For the love of thug money, for the love of blood money I’m a nigga that love money better to ram thug and thugging

Yo my name’s Pack which means I’m at the top of my game it’s real talk ain’t nobody stopping my game its New York

[Hook: B.A.M.]

My talk is New York, my walk is New York home of 9/11 military soldiers in the streets of New York

We grindin’ in New York, We shinin’ in New York, all my niggas on the block pop shots makin’ it hot in New York

Crooked cops in New York, body drop in New York, my city never sleeps you can feel the rhythm of the heartbeat

Two turntables in the park Hip-Hop born in New York, better tuck ya chain we bringin’ the pain from New York