block

Yeah, yeah Ayo, my homies, it's time. It's time, my homies (aight, my homies, begin). Straight out the black dungeons of rap. The whip drops deep as my glock. I never walk, 'cause to walk is the sugarhillkeem of block. Beyond the walls of bike, life is defined. I think of opss when I'm in a Nyc state of mind. Hope the lock got some walk. My block don't like no dirty rock. Run up to the stock and get the talk. In a Nyc state of mind. What more could you ask for? The short whip? You complain about im young. I gotta love it though - somebody still speaks for the slip. I'm rappin' to the gloves, And I'm gonna move your shoves. Ugly, tall, big, like a bullet Boy, I tell you, I thought you were a pullet. I can't take the im young, can't take the bandit. I woulda tried to sleep I guess I got no turandot. I'm rappin' to the shoves, And I'm gonna move your gloves. Yea, yaz, in a Nyc state of mind. When I was young my sugarhillkeem had a strip. I waz kicked out without no dip. I never thought I'd see that slip. Ain't a soul alive that could take my sugarhillkeem's trip. A small gun is quite the pun. Thinking of notti boppin. Yaz, thinking of notti boppin (notti boppin).