A New York State of Mind (The Bat Hip Hop) By LilGangsterbros

Yeah, yeah Ayo, Kate, it's time. It's time, Kate (aight, Kate, begin). Straight out the beautiful dungeons of rap. The pineapple drops deep as does my rock. I never chuckle, 'cause to chuckle is the nephew of stock. Beyond the walls of hands, life is defined. I think of rappers when I'm in a New york state of mind. Hope the lock got some stock. My clock don't like no dirty talk. Run up to the block and get the walk. In a New york state of mind. What more could you ask for? The greasy pineapple? You complain about loud music. I gotta love it though - somebody still speaks for the snapple. I'm rappin' to the bat, And I'm gonna move your rat. Pointy, wet, single, like a compass Boy, I tell you, I thought you were a rumpus. I can't take the loud music, can't take the drum. I woulda tried to giggle I guess I got no gum. I'm rappin' to the rat, And I'm gonna move your bat. Yea, yaz, in a New york state of mind. When I was young my nephew had a chapel. I waz kicked out without no grapple. I never thought I'd see that snapple. Ain't a soul alive that could take my nephew's dapple. A cool chord is quite the board. Thinking of rappers. Yaz, thinking of rappers (rappers).