[Intro:]Yeah, yeahAyo, Black, it's time, word (Word, it's time, man)It's time, man (Aight, man, begin)Yeah, straight out the fuckin' dungeons of rapWhere fake niggas don't make it backI don't know how to start this shit, yo... now[Verse 1:]Rappers, I monkey flip 'em with the funky rhythm I be kickin'Musician inflictin' composition of painI'm like Scarface sniffin' cocaineHoldin' an M16, see with the pen I'm extreme – nowBullet holes left in my peepholes, I'm suited up in street clothesHand me a 9 and I'll defeat foesY'all know my steelo, with or without the airplayI keep some E&J, sittin' bent up in the stairwayOr either on the corner bettin' Grants with the cee-lo champsLaughin' at baseheads tryna sell some broken ampsG-packs get off quick, forever niggas talk shitReminiscin' about the last time the task force flippedNiggas be runnin' through the block shootin'Time to start the revolution, catch a body, head for HoustonOnce they caught us off-guard, the MAC-10 was in the grass, andI ran like a cheetah, with thoughts of an assassinPicked the MAC up, told brothers "Back up!" — the MAC spitLead was hittin' niggas, one ran, I made him backflipHeard a few chicks scream, my arm shook, couldn't lookGave another squeeze, heard it click "Yo, my shit is stuck!"Try to cock it, it wouldn't shoot, now I'm in dangerFinally pulled it back and sawThree bullets caught up in the chamberSo now I'm jettin' to the building lobbyAnd it was full of children, prob'ly couldn't see as high as I be(So what you sayin'?) It's like the game ain't the sameGot younger niggas pullin' the triggers, bringin' fame to their nameAnd claim some corners, crews without guns are gonersIn broad daylight, stick-up kids, they run up on us45's and gauges, MAC's in factSame niggas will catch you back-to-backSnatchin' your cracks in blackThere was a snitch on the block gettin' niggas knockedSo hold your stash 'til the coke price dropI know this crackhead who said she got to smoke nice rockAnd if it's good, she'll bring you customers in measuring potsBut yo, you gotta slide on a vacationInside information keeps large niggas erasin' and their wives basin'It drops deep as it does in my breathI never sleep—'cause sleep is the cousin of deathBeyond the walls of intelligence, life is definedI think of crime when I'm in a New York state of mind[Chorus:]N.Y. State of MindN.Y. State of MindN.Y. State of MindN.Y. State of Mind[Verse 2:]Be havin' dreams that I'm a gangstaDrinkin' Moëts, holdin' TEC'sMakin' sure the cash came correct, then I steppedInvestments in stocks, sewin' up the blocks to sell rocksWinnin' gunfights with mega-copsBut just a nigga walkin' with his finger on the triggerMake enough figures until my pockets get biggerI ain't the type of brother made for you to start testin'Give me a Smith & Wesson, I have niggas undressin'Thinkin' of cash flow, buddha and shelterWhenever frustrated, I'm a hijack DeltaIn the PJ's, my blend tape plays, bullets are straysYoung bitches is grazed, each block is like a mazeFull of black rats trapped plus the Island is packedFrom what I hear in all the stories when my peoples come backBlack, I'm livin' where the nights is jet-blackThe fiends fight to get crackI just max, I dream I can sit backAnd lamp like Capone, with drug scripts sewnOr the legal luxury life, rings flooded with stones, holmesI got so many rhymes, I don't think I'm too saneLife is parallel to Hell, but I must maintainAnd be prosperous, though we live dangerousCops could just arrest me, blamin' us: we're held like hostagesIt's only right that I was born to use micsAnd the stuff that I write is even tougher than dykesI've taken rappers to a new plateauThrough rap slow, my rhymin' is a vitamin held without a capsuleThe smooth criminal on beat breaksNever put me in your box if your shit eats tapesThe city never sleeps, full of villains and creepsThat's where I learned to do my hustle, had to scuffle with freaksI'm a addict for sneakers20's of Buddha and bitches with beepersIn the streets I can greet ya, about blunts I teach yaInhale deep like the words of my breathI never sleep—'cause sleep is the cousin of deathI lay puzzle as I backtrack to earlier timesNothing's equivalent to the New York state of mind
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