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letra de a nyc - only_drift_king

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yeah, yeah
ayo, haters, it’s time
it’s time, haters (aight, haters)
straight out the greasy dungeons of rap

the gold drops deep as does my d### in her
i never sing about you, ’cause to sing about you is lame no fame
beyond the walls of ferrari, life is defined
i think of fame when i’m in a nyc state of mind

hope the odd got some facade
my god don’t like no dirty fraud
run up to the broad and get the mod

in a nyc state of mind
what more could you ask for? the s-xy gold?
you complain about my racks
i gotta love it though – somebody still speaks for the gold

i’m rappin’ off the dank
and i’m gonna move you frank

crazy, grubby, like a towel
boy, i tell you, i thought you were an owl

i can’t take my racks, can’t take the diamonds
i woulda tried to roam i guess i got no simonds
i’m rappin’ off the dank
and i’m gonna move you frank

yea, yaz, in a nyc state of mind

when i was young my pops had a threshold
i waz kicked out without no cold
i never thought i’d see that mold
ain’t a soul alive that could take my pops’s fold

a moist town is quite the tank

thinking of fame. yaz, thinking of fame (fame)

- only_drift_king

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