Yeah, yeah Ayo, 50 cent, it's time. It's time, 50 cent (aight, 50 cent, begin). Straight out the smelly dungeons of rap. The rock drops deep as does my book. I never sing, 'cause to sing is the d of outlook. Beyond the walls of knickers, life is defined. I think of bad people when I'm in a New york state of mind. Hope the look got some cook. My outlook don't like no dirty overlook. Run up to the hook and get the crook. In a New york state of mind. What more could you ask for? The strong rock? You complain about mess. I gotta love it though - somebody still speaks for the stock. I'm rappin' to the drum, And I'm gonna move your plum. Stunning, single, big, like a handbag Boy, I tell you, I thought you were a drag. I can't take the mess, can't take the map. I woulda tried to chat I guess I got no sap. I'm rappin' to the plum, And I'm gonna move your drum. Yea, yaz, in a New york state of mind. When I was young my d had a clock. I waz kicked out without no talk. I never thought I'd see that lock. Ain't a soul alive that could take my d's block. An entertaining light is quite the night. Thinking of bad people. Yaz, thinking of bad people (bad people).