Ikay (US) - The New York City Messiah lyrics

Verse 1 Riding through Queens, strapped wit two Glocks Screaming thug life like I think I'm 2Pac But I'm not My name is Kay, a young thug from da island These motherf**ing streets has turned me into a tyrant Tired of this thug sh**, tired of duckin' sirens All my enemies annihilated, perpetually silenced Thank you lord, I got guns to buss I got weed to puff A bad b**h to f**, I don't need that much I do this for da hood, when ya dreams are crushed And you're collapsing to da ground, I'll be ya crutch Send my love to Shyne, I buss shots to ya sh** n***a Godfather buried alive, I buss shots to ya hits n***a I feel ya pain, sh**'s excruciating I'm da hottest n***a in New York since da 50 Cent reign, deny me of that claim, you gotta be f**ing hallucinating Uh... Cho Crown me king, them other n***as ain't real like me Them other n***as ain't real like me Crown me king Them other n***as ain't real (Shyne Talking) You dig... Like you know I wrote a lot of records in the Clinton Dannemora, Same place where 2Pac was locked up at, Nah mean... I wrote some of them records on Rikers Island Verse 2 I been hustin' since I was six My heart froze when my brother gave me four bricks That was da 90's... oh sh** Moved over ten thousand pounds of weed by o' 6 Still I ain't rich This ain't no fairytale, I never had a childhood I'd change it all if I could Been languished all my life, all the hurt I've known So who da f** gon tell me I don't deserve da throne The goddess Arinniti blessed me, gave me her last kiss Crowned me king, them other rapper's music wacker than Usher's last disc Let it breathe Take it how you wanna Here's the recipe for love, bake it how you wanna Buss a shot for my n***as thuggin' on da corner Buss a shot for my n***a Fra**, the streets give you love, hope you give it back, and free da Worl' Boss, keep it thuggin' on da Gaza Cho Crown me king, them other n***as ain't real like me Them other n***as ain't real like me Them other n***as ain't real (Nas Talking) I, I started to dislike the fact that people are making money... Like, more than liking the state of music Verse 3 Spent so many years perfecting this flow Made my first demo when I was thirteen years old sh** was flawed Decision was hard I still put it out for y'all A tape filled wit imperfect songs This Is My Life... Volume one I pray for Jamaica, all the ghetto children Growing up without a father, cause the cops k**ed em Now their name in black ribbons As I walk the battlefield, Sela**ie is my armor Protected by Allah, anointed by The Dalai Lama Awaiting my karma Easy to lose faith cause redemption is scarce like a fierce iguana Me and Nicko be thuggin', holdin' it down Been avoiding my fears, I'm owning it now Queens, New York, now you're stuck wit me Brooklyn, Bronx, I hope you f** wit me Come on Cho Crown me king, them other n***as ain't real like me Them other n***as ain't real Them other n***as ain't real (Jay-Z Talking) Rap is poetry and it is, it isn't just... you know, it's thought provoking, it's thought behind it and there's great writing in rap as well Outro Uh, Shout out to my n***a Lyfe Jennings Welcome home n***a Cry Nation, Ikay Make my own beats, spit my own rhymes No need to look any further We here Queens, Kingston Jamaica, Da River We in da building