Dirty New Yorker -

Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah

Uh, uh, uh Yeah…

Baby mama let’s roll, here we go, Cheerio, cereal

Killa with the flow and the blow and the dro'

And the gun go ring, hit 'em all in a row

AK-47, .40-glock, .44, let 'em know from the door

How it go, it’s not a joke, there’s gon’be a homicide

I’ma ride, I’ma rep me a nigga up in the box

and send 'em to his folks, his bloods, his kin

The drama it don’t end, bust a gun

Bust a nigga’s face open with the hand

Tell 'em go tell a friend, tell a cop, tell the FEDS

I don’t give a mothafuck, you niggas in the Ps

I’ma let the world see you, you’re a bitch, you’re a snitch

I’ma Mobb Deep gangsta, Infamous soldier

If you got a cold heart then my shit just froze over

Range Rover, Chevy Suburban, the bullet proof trim

The windows on the crib, bullet proof them

(Chorus) Prodigy X2

You’re fucking with a Dirty New Yorker

Quens in this bitch fall back or get roped up You’re fucking with a Dirty New Yorker

Quens mothafucka, move and get smoked up Ay’let’s go Yeah, yeah I’m for the drama but I’m so laid back

A nigga get at me I’m gon’get 'em right back

I will say that, my flows so crack

You could put 'em in redtops and bump that back

On the block or the corner, you slip you a goner

Your nose’s getting warmer, the Ds out for ya Get money-money or take money-money

Always on my fly shit never catch the kid bummy

Shorty on my nuts like sweats

And it taste like metals and I swear I’m to protected

What do you expect, hoe niggas from let go Me and him was cool, just a mothafucka suck a gold

Shit, Hav’a professional, nigga kill the noise

You ain’t mothafucking techno

Boy I get several, things that severe you

Can’t see hell, come here here’s a better view

(Chorus) Prodigy X2