L.E.S. - Worldwide lyrics

[Intro] Lettin n***as talk that New York New York sh** What the f**s the deal? No doubt motherf**er, what the f**s the deal man f*ggot a** n***as, n***as in New York be lettin n***as sh** on em Frontin a** n***as First you drinkin snapple now you sippin' Moe? Just cause you livin', ain't no reason for you to be sh**tin f*ggot Word...Go getcha guns [Verse 1] Some nights I wake up out my sleep blastin Get some water for my aspirin My life fashion, gold chains guns and cash and I'm askin' do I got to be king of action f** a player fame New York is still the same A Queens thing Representin Flush reigns supreme Its a scheme just to overpower your team wit cream Man you sensitive, how you let these cats sh** on your residence With fake robberies, who shot who wit no evidence Im bringin it, tired of n***as sittin back and seein it 'Scape thru the light penetrate streets is trife Representin' from the lands of the guns and good smoke Heavy shines, poppin them lines and cut throats Dont provoke and getcha team smoke for broke and no joke You just a boy you not bad enough to compete wit challengers I'm bustin' off the guns wit the silencers Word....New York New York big city of dreams Comin' from Queens, where we dont get caught up in between Wit the nonsense, all these p**y n***as actin s** Take it off your chest, bring it to the desert where I rest South east to west, busting straight slugs thru your vest Chorus Worldwide, worldwide, wherever people startin Keep your mind on Queens when the dog starts barkin Verse 2 Its time to dead your whole situation New York is full of murderers, guns and court cases Baggin' wit razors, Remy, no chaser That be that wasteland flavor It's major, vibratin thru the states like a pager Who's the one to blame When you get stuck for gold chains Shootin' close range, half of these n***as died in the game It's a city thing, blastin' at cops by all means Keep it real thru out Queens Catchin jooks for CREAM On a tapped phone, f**in wit n***as thats far from home G-S's chrome, makin' power moves like Capone sh**s zone f**in wit n***a Flush holds his own Guarnateed to blow, puffin on trees do I go Way low, kidnappin' children for dough thats how it go Based on criminal minds, traces are hard to find To commit crime, half of these n***as is droppin dimes Yet in time, blowin your block just like a mine Flush in design, keep my neck flooded with shine Im out to get it, you still somethin sweet Go get your heat and your peeps And find your body parts on the streets Chorus