Clayborne Family (Kool Keith/Marc Live/Jacky Jasper) - New York City lyrics

[Chorus] Are you sure you wanna go - to New York City? (New York City) Are you sure you wanna go - to New York City? (New York City) Are you sure you wanna go - to New York City? (New York City) Are you sure you wanna go - to New York City? (New York City) [Kool Keith] New York City's finest, the added attraction Next to your man, popular name I mark minus, negative Is that the best vocals you give? I pa**ed your structure, you think its okay? Motown needs to see me, deliver your ca**ette Amateurs embarra** me, give me somethin' to play I'll sit in the big meetings with Damon Dash Urinate on your shoulders, my delivery is arrogant, I expect cash Don't play anything cartoon in front of Mike Viv, ask Hiram Hicks I'll put my face on the console, my engineer sharp I thought you spit on hits Oh you Spike now, wearin' Allan's You sportin' Houston's kicks Since you parked West, you rhyme and practice While I hang out with the Dominican Republic I keep the Sony cam - between crotches, I tape all Spanish chicks International rapper on tight bars with the Spanish mix Hittin' Spanish licks [Chorus] [Jacky Jasper] Statues, buildings, street k**ers living Could be heaven, pimps through thugs - nothin' givin' Driven - to penthouse, lookers, dope cookers, jookas The highest price hookers, gamblers, pushers Thug ways, no way Cabs some days, town call always, high all day Honest but dishonest, regardless I'm heartless cause money is endless Not hard to get clip, you trip you'll get clipped The weak will slip, hit is what they get Peeps walk, avoid the jack, don't talk, guns spark All money, shark fin, New York Money's fast, the city ain't slow, the pay slow With all those Burroughs, yo [Chorus] [Marc Live] Yo, yo, I love the dirty blocks My thugs at the corner movin' that stuff, controllin' the spot I like the city yo, we move quickly Where the streets talk a lot, yo... (yeah) And if you snitch them kids'll get you at the chicken spot And rock big leathers, and match the Tims up Lace the kicks up, a new fitted A long chains make the chickens get real hot Stop playin' this the Big Apple, we take a bite out Conference calls, blow ten thousand (yeah) - on just a night out The Westside Highway I test my heat out Five deep, we move fast and blow the seats out The streets peek out, they like the Clayborne's Come through (yo), we make the streets stop, I know your head bop New York City, where cats wil' out and jacks just go out [Chorus] - 2X