作词 : Gil Scott-Heron/Shawn Carte

作曲 : Gil Scott-Heron/Shawn Carte

Yeah

Yeah, I'm out that Brooklyn, now I'm down in Tribeca

Right next to De Niro, but I'll be hood foreve

I'm the new Sinatra, and since I made it here

I can make it anywhere, yeah, they love me everywhere

I used to cop in Harlem, hola, my Dominicanos (Dímelo!)

Right there up on Broadway, brought me back to that McDonald's

Took it to my stash spot, 560 State Street

Catch me in the kitchen, like a Simmons whippin' pastry

Cruisin' down 8th Street, off-white Lexus

Drivin' so slow, but BK is from Texas

Me? I'm out that Bed-Stuy, home of that boy Biggie

Now I live on Billboard and I brought my boys with me

Say "What up?" to Ty Ty, still sippin' Mai Tais

Sittin' courtside, Knicks and Nets give me high fives

Nigga, I be spiked out, I could trip a referee

Tell by my attitude that I'm most definitely from

Don't you know, don't you know

New York was killing me

Yes, I was standing nearly dying here

New York was killing me

Seems like I need to start ove

And move back home in Jackson, Tennessee

In, in, in, in New York

Catch me at the X with OG at a Yankee game

Shit, I made the Yankee hat more famous than a Yankee can

You should know I bleed blue, but I ain't a Crip though

But I got a gang of niggas walkin' with my clique though

Welcome to the meltin' pot, corners where we sellin' rock

Afrika Bambaataa shit, home of the hip-hop

Yellow cab, gypsy cab, dollar cab, holla back

For foreigners, it ain't fair, they act like they forgot how to add

Eight million stories out there in the naked

City, it's a pity half of y'all won't make it

Me? I gotta plug Special Ed, "I Got It Made"

If Jeezy's payin' LeBron, I'm payin' Dwyane Wade

Three dice cee-lo, three-card Marley

Labor Day Parade, rest in peace, Bob Marley

Statue of Liberty, long live the World Trade

Long live the king, yo, I'm from the Empire State, that's

Don't you know, don't you know

New York was killing me

Yes, I was standing nearly dying here

New York was killing me

In, in, in, in New York

Seems like I need to start ove

And move back home in Jackson, Tennessee

Lights is blinding, girls need blinders

So they can step out of bounds quick, the side lines is

Lined with casualties who sip the life casually

Then gradually become worse—don't bite the apple, Eve!

Caught up in the in-crowd, now you're in-style

Into the winter gets cold, en vogue with your skin out

City of sin is a pity on a whim

Good girls gone bad, the city's filled with them

Mami took a bus trip, now she got her bust out

Everybody ride her, just like a bus route

"Hail Mary" to the city, you're a virgin

And Jesus can't save you, life starts when the church end

Came here for school, graduated to the high life

Ball players, rap stars, addicted to the limelight

MDMA got you feelin' like a champion

The city never sleeps, better slip you a Ambien

Lord have mercy, mercy on me

Yeah, Lord have mercy, have mercy on me

Tell him to bury my body back home in Jackson, Tennessee

Yeah Lord have mercy, have mercy on me

In, in, in, in New York