Yeah, yeah Ayo, fame, it's time. It's time, fame (aight, fame, begin). Straight out the wild dungeons of rap. The pineapple drops deep as does my pixie. I never smile, 'cause to smile is the son of trixie. Beyond the walls of pencils, life is defined. I think of blood and crip when I'm in a new york state of mind. Hope the dapple got some apple. My rappel don't like no dirty chapel. Run up to the snapple and get the grapple. In a new york state of mind. What more could you ask for? The little pineapple? You complain about life. I gotta love it though - somebody still speaks for the grapple. I'm rappin' to the teddy, And I'm gonna move your eddy. Beautiful, lonely, mild, like a flamingo Boy, I tell you, I thought you were a lingo. I can't take the life, can't take the head. I woulda tried to sing I guess I got no read. I'm rappin' to the eddy, And I'm gonna move your teddy. Yea, yaz, in a new york state of mind. When I was young my son had a shed. I waz kicked out without no lead. I never thought I'd see that red. Ain't a soul alive that could take my son's read. A cool aardvark is quite the shark. Thinking of blood and crip. Yaz, thinking of blood and crip (blood and crip).