The Alchemist - Rotten Apple Remix lyrics

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The Alchemist - Rotten Apple Remix lyrics

[Hook] The Rotten Apple made me like this I don't give a f** I shoot a n***a down and cut a n***a up New York made me this way; I'm all about a buck My close friends was murdered, I bullet proof my truck sh**, New York taught me, it's no mercy It's no lettin' it slide, I'm so thirsty New York!, New York!, n***a! (New York City) It's Queens New York n***a! [Verse One: Prodigy] Listen n***a, my face got the scars My brain got the smarts, my chest got the heart To f** someone up, what n***a? I make it hot Police be up on the block, cause P just shot Some stupid f**a, now you n***as can't pump, ol' mad at me Should be mad at that n***a whose tryna crab me You know I ain't the one if you didn't you know now These n***as be slow, 'til I blow the four pound And put a 'lil pep in their step I got d**h for any n***a wit an 'S' on their chest That's my reflexes, when you hear them shots See if I gave it to a n***a he deserves what he got Look my hammer got the cure for your amnesia How conveniently we forget, P is Black Caesar And Hell over in Queens that swell up in my jeans Don't mean I'm happy to see you, that mean I got the thang [Hook] The Rotten Apple made me like this I don't give a f** I shoot a n***a down and cut a n***a up New York made me this way; I'm all about a buck My close friends was murdered, I bullet proof my truck sh**, New York taught me, it's no mercy It's no lettin' it slide, I'm so thirsty New York!, New York!, n***a! (New York City) It's Queens New York n***a! [Verse Two: Sean Price] Look here n***a I f** n***as up, every damn day Welcome to Bucktown U.S.A Smack earth, wind, fire and ice out your face Take crack out your pocket and scream "got Rob Based" Knife game, gun game, nice with my hands f** around and leave you right where you stand Listen, punch a fan in the face and I lose a sale Nah, I punch a fan and get sued then jailed Comstockin' twenty cents to ten arms lockin' Pray five times a day, Allah doctrine You got a hot song but your album is not popping f** it, do your thing homes, money off of ringtones Best emcee that you know with no chain Rather spit lines then sniff lines of c**aine I did a whole eighth in a sniff You call it a problem I call it a gift P! [Hook] The Rotten Apple made me like this I don't give a f** I shoot a n***a down and cut a n***a up New York made me this way; I'm all about a buck My close friends was murdered, I bullet proof my truck sh**, New York taught me, it's no mercy It's no lettin' it slide, I'm so thirsty New York!, New York!, n***a! (New York City) It's Queens New York n***a!