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Artist: Rock Mecca
Album:  Pirate Radio Star
Song:   New York Noise
Typed by:

Verse 1:
From the top of the Trump
Down to the gutters and dumps
Street kings on the corners and bunks in prisons
They bump the rhythm I brung
Live from the tip of the tongue
With the slang from the streets where I'm from
Kids bang so they reach for they guns
Women screech and they run
Some impeached for embezzling funds
Crooked politicians, for the Senate they run
Rest of ya'll would've found out if Hillary won
Gotta hear everyone
From the felony one
Offenders to street vendors
They got a million and one
Stories like skyscrapers, of wild capers
Mad flavors like Now-N-Laters and stack paper
The whole world learnin whatever we taught
Buyin whatever we bought
Learnin what sounds fresh whenever we talk
Championship teams in every sport
Pigs scheemin in every report
Lock us whenever we caught

That's the way it goes on the streets of New York. (8x)

Verse 2:
What you want I keep it real or a fantasy life?
New York in ‘88 or what's poppin tonight?
An accurate description
Vivid depiction, conflicting with your fiction
Flicks on television
The Knicks is never winnin
Script that's never written unfold, life cut short when the metal reloads
Cuz the cops bust bullet holes in the innocent's clothes
Gentrified or foreclosed homes, tell us where do we go?
High mortality rate
Since 9/11 can't keep my salary straight, in the Empire state
Nowadays to survive you need the entire cake
Not a piece of the pie, it's do or die so I
Work 5 jobs with x amount of hustles
Roll deep, my squad got x amount of muscle
Apartment got no heat, outside it storms
Whether in or out it's war
It's all very hardcore

That's how it goes on the streets of New York (8x)

Verse 3:
When the N cross the Y on your fitted, you can die any minute
Brought your life to an end (N), Not a clue why (Y) he did it
When the sirens are ringing, lights are flashing
Somebody got wet without unscrewing out a hydrant
I'm rhyming, with plans to lock the whole city down
Inside of my hand, but still you won't see me now
The ghost of New York
Shadow when you walk, echo when you talk
The smoke in the ‘dro that you spark, that knows where you are
Like a GPS, one eye open like CBS, on every corner like CVS
Street pharmacists, the barbers and the all city vets
Know what time it is, the rhymin is an All City best
But stress, uh, this ain't another New York anthem
Just a S-O-S call to let the world know we stranded
In the rotten apple, it got a worm in it
The trains smell like piss and elevators herb scented

That's how it goes on the streets of New York (8x)