N.Y. State of Mind Pt. II lyrics

by

Timbaland


[Produced by DJ Premier]

[Intro]
Uhh.. yo
Whattup? Whattup?
It's time man (word, it's time?)
Straight up (it's time, man)
Aight, set that sh*t off (set it off then, n*gga)
Set it off (set if off)

[Verse 1]
Broken glass in the hallway, bloodstained floors
Neighbors look at every bag you bring through your doors
Lock the top lock, momma should've cuffed me to the radiator
Why not? It might've saved me later from my block
N.Y. cops, hookers crawlin' off the stroll, coughin'
Stitches in they head, stinkin' and I dread thinkin' they be snitchin'
But who else, could it be, shook at these, unmarked vans
Parked in the dark—NARC's, where's your heart?
Hustlers starve—they bust a U-ey, I jog
To my building—come out later wearin' camouflage
See the sergeant and the captain—strangle men
n*ggas gaspin' for air 'til they move no more and just stare
With dead eyes—tired of riots, sh*t is quiet
Simple-minded fools infiltrate grimy crews
Overcrowded cribs, uncles home from bids, sisters pregnant
Fathers on drugs, moms is smokin', beds is p*ss-infested
Had 8 partners growin' up, 8 turned to 7
7 turned to 6 n*ggas, got 2 in heaven
6 of us holdin' it, now it's 5 rollin' thick
The 6th one's parole flipped, 5 n*ggas went to 4 quick
When he went O.T., college life
Converted into gangbangin', 4 n*ggas still hangin'
Years passin' and slang changin'—3 of us now, 4th n*gga ain't around
We all thought he was real—he did the snake sh*t
Fake sh*t—beat his ass down
Yo his mouth could've got us all wasted, what a f*ckin' clown
All I got left in the end is 2 of my best friends
And we all goin' out to the death for these ends
What?
[Chorus (repeats in bridge)]
New York, New York (New York state of mind)
New York, New York (New York state of mind)

[Bridge]
You heard about it, you see about it
You read about it, it's in your papers
It's in your daily news ("Get money!")
New York chronicles, every day
The crime rate, the murder rate
The money rate, the paper chase (aight?)
You know what I mean?
New York state of mind, baby (oh, yeah)
Check it out (yeah)

[Verse 2]
I'm at the gamblin' spot, my hands on a knot
New York Yankee cap cover my eyes, stand in one spot
I take a n*gga dough, send him home to a shoebox
You lost that n*gga I put your dollar in the jukebox
Hear my favorite song, all these n*ggas sing along
All the cigarette smoke's cloggin' my lungs
Hoodrats flashin' they tongue
Young thugs blastin' they gun, we got reputations
b*tches and n*ggas both on parole or probation
sh*t is sick, n*ggas got gats, army fatigues
I got my eyes glued on whoever walk in or leave
'Cause I ain't playin', n*ggas'll run up in here and shoot up this sh*t
Stick yo' ass up, n*ggas'll find the loot in your kicks
Bunch of triple-cross n*ggas, just New York n*ggas
Lift you off your feet when they was just talkin' with you
Some of these dudes the Feds be on 'em, you knew 'em for years
Be the type when you walk in a pub, they offer you beers
That ain't gangsta, n*ggas is up North with tatted tears
Your name's on the affadavit, you ratted kid
Faggot-ass n*ggas that be scared to do they bids
f*ck you, we run you out of N.Y, you can't live
Got your quiet n*ggas, that relocated down South
Comin' back to floss, then you got the jealous loudmouths
All of a sudden we got Crips and Bloods, D.T.'s
Runnin' round quick to split your mug, it's easy
To score but it's hard to get the sh*t off
n*ggas fightin' over hundred sales, jump in the car and drive off
When the fiend come around the block, happy as hell
n*ggas mad 'cause they ain't get a piece of that sale
Cutthroat connivers, universal, ghetto survivors
Go to any hood that's live and make it liver
A lot of n*ggas schemin', some real, some n*ggas frontin'
But I'm a big dreamer, so watch me come up with somethin'
[Chorus]
New York, New York
New York, New York
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