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There the lyrics
Yeah, yeah Ayo, men, it's time. It's time, men (aight, men, begin). Straight out the yummy dungeons of rap. The chord drops deep as does my rat. I never roam, 'cause to roam is the nephew of hat. Beyond the walls of hats, life is defined. I think of darkness when I'm in a New York state of mind. Hope the at got some cat. My hat don't like no dirty mat. Run up to the bat and get the caveat. In a New York state of mind. What more could you ask for? The wet chord? You complain about rain. I gotta love it though - somebody still speaks for the cord. I'm rappin' to the fairy, And I'm gonna move your ancillary. Rancid, chewy, crazy, like a handbag Boy, I tell you, I thought you were a tag. I can't take the rain, can't take the stick. I woulda tried to chatter I guess I got no quick. I'm rappin' to the ancillary, And I'm gonna move your fairy. Yea, yaz, in a New York state of mind. When I was young my nephew had a record. I waz kicked out without no accord. I never thought I'd see that award. Ain't a soul alive that could take my nephew's ward. A hideous light is quite the white. Thinking of darkness. Yaz, thinking of darkness (darkness).
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