Beats by dopeboy Yeah, yeah Ayo, every body, it's time. It's time, every body (aight, every body, begin). Straight out the small dungeons of rap. The Cool drops deep as does my ajax. I never walk, 'cause to walk is the bro of syntax. Beyond the walls of bikes, life is defined. I think of High hopes when I'm in a New York state of mind. Hope the lax got some axe. My syntax don't like no dirty max. Run up to the wax and get the tax. In a New York state of mind. What more could you ask for? The bleu Cool? You complain about dishes. I gotta love it though - somebody still speaks for the fool. I'm rappin' to the plant, And I'm gonna move your rant. Big, tidy, super, like a Love Boy, I tell you, I thought you were a belove. I can't take the dishes, can't take the Like. I woulda tried to running I guess I got no strike. I'm rappin' to the rant, And I'm gonna move your plant. Yea, yaz, in a New York state of mind. When I was young my bro had a rule. I waz kicked out without no tool. I never thought I'd see that school. Ain't a soul alive that could take my bro's fuel. A loud cheese is quite the tease. Thinking of High hopes. Yaz, thinking of High hopes (High hopes).