Tonart: G minor
Verse 1
Bm
Em
Am
New York City,
Bm
we piss in it, we live in it
Em
We die, we all take shits in it
Verse 2
Am
[Kool Keith]
There's a million albums out there with
Bm
that opera and Shakespeare shit
Em
I stuff my ears with
Bm
I don't hear shit, you
Am
niggaz are excess waste
Bm
Em
Am
A hundred percent of the mainstream
Bm
crowd, receive pure shit
The hottest DJ's in New York spin
it from the wheelchairs
with cancer, my voodoo ready to roll
Ask Harlem Hospital,
you can't cure shit
HMV at the cash register,
girls tryin to make me buy CD's
Soft jazz and homo R&B
I ain't payin for that Allure shit
Walkin by Bloomingdales before you see
me put the pep in it
I guarantee you get bad karma
Fly leather coat with the Coach bag
You step in shit,
choose the Daily News
Cm
The newspaper's gonna take
Bm
off a little off your soles
You got a lot around your feet
motherfuckers not a little bit
(Wipe that shit off your
soles)
[Chorus] - 2X
[Kool Keith] I'm straight up on the butt- ass transit
Verse 3
I don't give a fuck,
Bm
I smell the piss in the subway
Cm
My Boss cologne suits me well on the New
Bm
York City mass transit
Women lookin scared, borin- ass statues
Bitch you need to get out the boroughs
and move to Kansas
or Pittsburgh or somethin
Sittin up with braids in your hair like
a fuckin Halloween pumpkin
Smile motherfucker,
put on some lipstick or do somethin
Eat your breakfast muffin
My appearance shock your
brand new motherfuckin leather
I ain't say nothin
Cause in your panties secretly,
Em
I know you readin the magazine comin
Am
The freak on the train is bustin
Bm
I was sittin here first, you
wasn't
I know you goin home to
masturbate
Em
Your girlfriend is messed up, datin her own
Am
fuckin cousin
[Chorus] - 2X
Bm
[Kool Keith] Y'all just reachin your damn horizons,
so what?
Verse 4
Bm
You
Em
got your cellular phone, motherfucker
Girls and guys I'm not frontin
Bm
Y'all bullshittin talkin to nobody lookin
Am
Bm
good at the dinner table
Em
Runnin your fuckin bill
up on Verizon
Am
You ain't shoppin with a lot of
Bm
Victoria's Secret bags
Monkeys treat you to Unos, retarded-
ass herb niggaz are thin
Girls are more insecure, I'm
realizin
The datin and courtin shit got everybody
hyped up and sportin shit
The Bell system fraud
Dial on the spot or stand trial on the spot
Ladies don't invite me over
Just cover the mattress with the
piss, and the cum spot
Don't blast the same lame-
ass singin MC a lot
Now move the ticket off your window,
Manhattan traffic cop
You shoulda dipped,
your shit in the parking lot
Verse 5
Bm
[Chorus] - 2X New York City, we piss in it, we live
in it
We die, we all take shits in it
Verse 6
Bm
[Kool Keith] There's a
million albums out there with
that opera and Shakespeare shit
I stuff my ears with cotton
when you rap
I don't hear shit,
you niggaz are excess waste
A hundred percent of the mainstream crowd,
receive pure shit
Em
Am
The hottest DJ's in New York spin
Bm
it from the wheelchairs
with cancer,
Em
my voodoo ready to roll
Am
Ask Harlem Hospital,
you can't cure shit
Bm
HMV at the cash register,
Em
Am
girls tryin to make me buy CD's
Bm
Soft jazz and homo R&B
Em
I ain't payin for that Allure shit
Am
Walkin by Bloomingdales before you
Bm
see me put the pep in it
I guarantee you get bad karma
Fly leather coat with the Coach bag
You step in shit,
choose the Daily News
The newspaper's gonna take
off a little off your soles
You got a lot around your feet motherfuckers
not a little bit
(Wipe that shit off your
soles)
Verse 7
[Chorus] - 2X
Bm
[Kool Keith]
I'm straight up on the
butt- ass transit
I don't give a fuck, I smell the piss
in the subway
My Boss cologne suits me well on the New
York City mass transit
Women lookin scared, borin- ass statues
Bitch you need to get out the boroughs
and move to Kansas or
Pittsburgh or somethin
Sittin up with braids in your hair like a fuckin
Halloween pumpkin
Smile motherfucker,
Cm
Bm
put on some lipstick or do somethin
Eat your breakfast muffin
My appearance shock your brand
new motherfuckin leather
I ain't say nothin
Cause in your panties secretly,
I know you readin the magazine comin
The freak on the train is bustin
I was sittin here first, you wasn't
I know you goin home
to masturbate
Your girlfriend is messed up, datin her own
fuckin cousin
[Chorus] - 2X
Verse 8
[Kool Keith] Y'all just reachin your damn horizons,
Bm
so what?
Em
You got your cellular phone,
Am
motherfucker you pre- paid
Bm
Girls and guys I'm not frontin
Em
Y'all bullshittin talkin to nobody lookin
good at the dinner table
Am
Bm
Em
Runnin your fuckin bill up on Verizon
You ain't shoppin with a lot of
Am
Bm
Victoria's Secret bags
Em
Monkeys treat you to Unos, retarded-
Am
ass herb niggaz are thin
Bm
Girls are more insecure, I'm realizin
Em
The datin and courtin shit got everybody
Am
hyped up and sportin shit
The Bell system fraud
Dial on the spot or stand trial on the spot
Bm
Em
Ladies don't invite me over
Just cover the mattress with the
piss, and the cum spot
Bm
Don't blast the same lame- ass
Am
Bm
Em
Now move the ticket off your window,
Am
Manhattan traffic cop
You shoulda dipped,
your shit in the parking lot
[Chorus] - 2X
Wie hat dir der Song gefallen?
TunerE A D G B E
Akkorde & SongtexteBm Em Am Cm
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