Shyne - King Of NYS lyrics

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Shyne - King Of NYS lyrics

I run the city and the block, they running from the cops Oh, I forgot, they are the cops Don't ask me to stop, blood, these lil' busters owe me publishing Exploiting all the rights to my pain and my suffering See before, Alice in Wonderland Son, I'm surprised you run with them, I gotta punish them! For every night I spend in a cell without no No commissary, all the ba*tards that I buried The wars that I fought, all the caskets that I carried Anthony Wolf Jones visit in the cemetery There's Too much blood on this life Too much pain, too much scars for these creeps come along Rap about it in they song, all the pain, all the loss Don't talk about it if you ain't one of us Yeah, I'm the real Larry Hoover These lil' busters is J. Edgar Hoover Nobody loves me, I don't give a .... All I got is this money, and it's enough! (I'm run the city and the block!) It's a cold war, blood, things is rough Light a match, let the money burn, heat it up! (I'm run the city and the block!) Nobody loves me, I don't give a .... All I got is this money, and it's enough! It's a cold world, blood, things is rough Light a match, let the money burn, heat it up! (I run the city and the block!) I'm Kenneth Supreme, I'm Larry Davis, Michael Concepcion Blood, I'm the greatest, these rap dudes need to stop posting up these disclaimers Listen to they raps, man, that's my life, man that plagured Young and dangerous, out the cages Harley David, my name is in gossip pages So, Fonze, you think I play for the patriots, six foot brazilian broad screaming in my arraignment All the bloods got the sports, d** and entertainment Against the all wall while the hellfire burns adjacent Between a rock and a hard place, so I sold rocks to the fiends, when they see me, they see God face Far away, momma where I need to be But I promise I'mma change, momma, please believe in me! Shyne MF Po, the real Larry Hoover, they Larry and Moe Nobody loves me, I don't give a .... All I got is this money, and it's enough! It's a cold war, blood, things is rough Light a match, let the money burn, heat it up! Nobody loves me, I don't give a .... All I got is this money, and it's enough! It's a cold world, blood, things is rough Light a match, let the money burn, heat it up! I'm Bobby Seale, I'm young Malcolm Martin Luther with ruger, tell me where they found him! This ain't a album, this thing a thousand For the people in the section 8 and big housing I'm in a cla** by myself, federal detention, trying to beat a double life sentence This is not a preference, I was young and reckless Never had an option, it's the only choice I'm left with If you got a d**h wish, I'll be sure to answer it On that Huey P EP Fred Hampton sh** You're just a candle stick, the sun is shining You think this is a joke, you're the only one you're smiling Blow his brains on the sidewalk, just so I remind him I run New York, even from an island Flex got the bomb and New York is mine, lil busters, fall back!