Übersetzung: Facing New York. Wir sind.
We are the young men, we are the desperation. We are a nervous wreck, we are the anxiety. We are the broken coin, the begging boys at your door. Call
face BACK UP OFF ME 'FORE I PUT YOU IN YOUR PLACE! I'm the same brother that likes +Sally Walk+ and I'ma "bad motherfucker from East New York" You see
we from the bottom You heard me New York? [Tony Yayo:] New York City whats up? [50 Cent:] We from the gutter [Tony Yayo:] We takin' over [Funkmaster Flex:] Heres what we
said it wouldn't last In New York, they say that the tempo's too fast You disregarded, but the albums got charted We put 'em in the stores and millions
I've been accepted where you've been denied I'm the M-A-R, the Q-U-I-S Here to run down a rhyme at your request I'm the New York born, who's sharp as
ain't got a care in the world I'm fin' to drink this motherfucker right here till I hurl Admit it, I'm that motherfuckin' nigga you lovin' New York nigga
your ass and leave you for dead son Niggas who know me, know how I get down, I'm fresh out the pound NYPD crit the flip, get on some New York undercover
That's What Finna Do Girl You In My House, My Tongue In Your Mouth My Fourplay Better Then Ok, No Dought We Got Our Own Thing, See You Are My Bitch Just
everybody knows where we're goin') We goin' we goin' we goin' (yeah, we're goin' down) [Verse 2:] We goin' down like a light switch, we on that hype
That bitchh and a vicious track? Sly Pro tools to boast Joe smooth I coast to the West like we're tired of living at New York here's a piggyback ride
work For me, it just wouldn't be, sufficient enough Cuz we, are just gonna be, enemies As long as we breathe, I don't ever see, either of us Coming to terms, where we
we'd get together and we'd make a meal, have a community dinner. That was when we were lucky and then we'd play cards. We didn't have any signals 'cause we
way she smile, her face look pretty, though Hands is soft, feet, no calysses Her father owned six pallets in palaces Laying out in New York, crush villas
steel it in your brain My guerrillas'll bang, we are the Planet of the Apes Clips as long as bananas, throw them hammers in your face [Solomon Childs
Glocks we tote 'em in belong pawn shops where we resold 'em And going in we let the fiends hold 'em Fake aliases, no driver's license or socials But we
as Killa Bamz)] Yeah, Soloman marked for life, a million to life Thug for life, forever eyein the kid '89 stick-up kid, King of New York Regulation party
we can't control People they want us to fall down But we won't ever Touch the ground 'Cause we're perfectly balanced We'll float around 'Til noone is
