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Streets of New York

[Nas] (Alicia Keys)

Nasty, yeah, yeah (New York, New York)

Hey yo black it's time again, yeah, yeah

(New York, New York)

Come here, yeah, yeah

(New York, New York)

Hey yo black it's time


If you knew my streets

You would know all everybody talk about is who got beef

Who snitchin, who told police

Who came home, who still gone, who restin in peace

Now they killin over music money, not drugs, rap replaced it

Cause thugs with no brains got no patience

New jacks I pistol whip 'em with the funky rhythm I be kickin

Musician and flatten composition

A pain, I'm like Saddam Hussein

Still alive lookin at his dead children's burnt remains

I burnt the game, learnt you lames a new lesson

Your crew's soft man, ya'll need some new weapons

The P's breathe Warriorz and skullies and Timmies

Around mixed, spics, niggaz and giddies

From my ghetto kings in deep thought we don't blink

But don't think we wastin our time

It's a New York State of Mind


Алиша Киз

Streets of New York / Алиша Киз

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