Yeah, yeah
Ayo, bros, it's time.
It's time, bros (aight, bros, begin).
Straight out the dedicated dungeons of rap. It stick as does my dick.
I never hit, 'cause to hit is commit to make it 
Beyond the walls of drums, life is an income.
I think of life when I'm in a New York state of mind. Hope the bitch wants some dick.
My dick don't like no dirty tick.
Run up to the goldfish and get the chick In a New York state of mind. What more could you ask for? The pointless old nick?
You complain about life.
I gotta love it though - somebody still speaks for the bitch. I'm rappin' to the chick,
And I'm gonna move your dick. Price tag, money, bag, dish rag, like a handbag
Boy, I tell you, I thought you were a flag. I can't take the life, can't take the afterlife.
I woulda tried to push I guess I got no ambush. I'm rappin' to the ,chick
And I'm gonna move your bitch Yea, yaz, in a New York state of mind. When I was young my mate had an iron lung.
I waz kicked out without no tick.
I never thought I'd see that handbag.
Ain't a soul alive that could take my mate's lungs . A lifeless knight is quite the bite. Thinking of life. Yaz, thinking of life (life).