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letra de leyendecker - joell ortiz

bruce wayne called in gotham
i didn’t know who to call when i seen them towers droppin’
some how we kept it poppin’
the big apple, where the most lyrical kids will spit at you
and eye contact’ll get your b-tch tackled
i won so much they probably thought i rigged battles
nah for real i rocked, i had to go and get battles
put guitars on top but when our kicks happen
you in a daze like the haze like i blaze on 6th avenue
in my ear, yeah, the bullsh-t chatter too
save the grenades and graves for the lames they matter to
i’m an artist, you’re an iron repper
i punch the king of the jungle in his face, i’m lion decker
man, i’m hotter than july trying to buy a sweater
out a store with no ac, don’t play me
no bk’s, no kb toy store
with these toys my boys go to war

[hook x2]
i live in the hood
but ya’ll can call it the slums or the gutter
or the bottom leave you wilin’ in ny
i live in the hood
its not our fault we poverty stricken
we playin’ lottery tickets trying to get by
i live in the hood

how we do

car h-rns, yelling, traffic crazy
enter strollers with the baddest babies
i sell my bundles of crack for 80 on that corner
while looking at the back of ladies
block royal hood been on my fashion lately
meet my block royal boot if you acting crazy
a cold beer feels nice going down
in that parking lot with gwap and dice rolling ’round
until them narcs stop and hop, you might know the sound (police sirens)
then you riding downtown
like take off the cuffs, loosies cost too much
like 50 cent, but when you big, get your nas and puff
new york, new york, you can smell it in the air
see the felons over there that’ll split your melon over gear
and they telling over where? nah not in my state
top 10 with the nation’s crime rate

[hook x2]

if you hoped off the plane and landed on my block
you would see the army flames and light an l or poc
you would smell the alcohol, somebody done lost the top
you would feel the tensions flaring, somebody gone get shot
you would hear the sirens nearing, somebody called the cops
you would taste the blood in your mouth, hey crooked it ain’t stop
you better show them men ids
‘cuz don’t n0body play fair in here in nyc

[hook x2]

- joell ortiz

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