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lirik lagu new york – angel haze

uh
i’m running, running through the jungle
running like a slave through the underground tunnel
told y’all n-gg-s that i’d get these b-tches
cause i spit till my lips need 16 st-tches
i am lyrical intrusion
you b-tches can’t see me like i’m really an illusion
i hop up on your face and do my motherf-cking two-step
till i knock the meat out like a motherf-cking toothpick
uh, i’m nasty n-gg-, like nas, like kim, like c-ssie pictures
like i’m f-cking chris stokes or that raz-b n-gg-
or the skin on the feet of a ashy n-gg-
i am whatever they say i am
bumping like the -sses on them thick b-tches at stadium
f-ck them other b-tches i sound better in the place of them
i killed this sh-t, this the motherf-cking requiem

sick b-tch, chicken noodle soup face
calls from overseas like a motherf-cking crusade
crack rock and you can hit it till your nose hurt
rooftop brooklyn, made this sh-t in covert
i run new york, i run new york

i am zero past a hundred, spitting like a dragon
that went missing from a dungeon
y’all a bunch of n-gg-s getting trippy off of nothing
tie a rope around your neck and let me kick you off a bungee
i’m satan, and i’ma take your -ss to church now
running my fields and you midgets on your first down
i love it when these b-tches know i’m better than them
cause i don’t hear, not a word or a letter from them
i’m a fire in the midst of a forest ‘round b-tches
and i rap elliptical orbits round b-tches
anaconda, i sit with an open mouth, b-tches
and you b-tches are lyrically
like some f-cking down syndrome, no offence
no shade ‘n all, but y’all b-tches on knees like babies crawl
you can catch me out in covert, chilling like a stoop kid
yeah i hear you, don’t talk b-tch, do

i’m lyrical and i’m general
take shots, but never subliminal
don’t stop, continue on running around
but never in intervals, can’t stomach the sh-t that i’m fin’na do
ya’ll n-gg-s want the sh-t that i’m giving you
if you front, i’m gonn put and end to you
i’m like scorpion, b-tch i will finish you
make it nasty, real, real nasty
why you b-tches running like you will get past me?
won’t happen, you b-tches could get on, when i’m off it
try to cross me now, you be going in a coffin
it’s just me, myself and i
talk tough sh-t and i’ma beat you till you die
ask why? because i’m better than you’ll ever be
that’s why sh-t make your sh-t seem lighter than heavy d

sick b-tch, chicken noodle soup face
calls from oversea like a motherf-cking crusade
crack rock and you hit it till your nose hurt
rooftop brooklyn, made this sh-t in covert
i run new york, i run new york
i run new york, i run new york

- angel haze

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