[Intro: J. Cole]
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This for all my niggas in the city
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But this shit really for Queens though
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Really for Queens though, ya know?
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Big city of dreams, motivated by schemes
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Getting money regiment with my gettin money regime
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Ya nah mean? Yeah, yeah
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[Verse 1: J. Cole]
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New York Times, come listen to these New York rhymes
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A southern nigga with a New York mind
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In the concrete jungle of Queens trying to be Kings
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Getting to the money, it seems, by any means
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As I, watch it all pan out, try not to stand out
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Fish out of water, yet an official reporter
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Up here, life is a bitch, I blow a kiss at her daughter
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In the city where niggas will leave your shit outta order
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So yeah, you heard the news, disturbing news
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Shot {censored} brother in the head, thank the Lord he aint dead
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Was in a coma for months, eyes aint opened up once
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My nigga visibly stressin, a mess, he smoking his blunt
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What could I say? I cant relate to that, all I do is pray for that
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This the city of God told me go and make it at
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I got a date with destiny, Im running late for that
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Grab a paper, hey kid, you gotta pay for that
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[Chorus: J. Cole & 50 Cent]
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The New York Times, yeah
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The New York Times
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Extra, extra, read all about it
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They say you can win anywhere if you can win here
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And you aint been nowhere if you aint been here
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Hustle hard, yeah it really aint a game mane
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Same places, different faces on the train mane
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New York, New York
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[Verse 2: J. Cole]
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Hop on the F train, took the express train
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Skip that local shit, my vocals sick, thats how success came
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Once kings, now we pawns in this chess game
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Wall Street got black slave blood stains
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Which means, we built this city
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And never got scraps while the devil got fat
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In fact, reparations for niggas in desperation
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Fuck money, get my kid a real education
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Blood money spills, had a real revelation
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Southside make you realize theres still segregation
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Dont wanna preach, Im just thinking out loud
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Sometimes I wanna save the world and I be thinking bout how
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My motive, to lead my niggas to paradise
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Imagine the world free from pain and we no longer scared at night
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Far from the crime, the blind leading the blind
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We dont make it primetime til we dyin
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[Chorus: J. Cole & 50 Cent]
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The New York Times
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The New York Times, yeah
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The New York Times
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Extra, extra, read all about it
~#**************#~
They say you can win anywhere if you can win here
~#**************#~
And you aint been nowhere if you aint been here
~#**************#~
Hustle hard, yeah it really aint a game mane
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Same places, different faces on the train mane
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New York, New York
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[Verse 3: Bas]
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How I go from selling reefer and plates
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To eating steaks with Cole and playing FIFA with Drake?
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Shoulda been in the States, property of the Jakes
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Now Im plotting on profits and properties on the lake
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Let me properly integrate you to it
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Show you how the heads of states and gangsters do it
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Them niggas talk a lot of shit but they aint been through it
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I done been up in everything, cars you never seen
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Cities you never heard of, from the streets where they murder
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Police observe us til they reach the verdict
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Kill em all, fucking kill em all
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If you cant send em to the pen, send em to the morgue
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Send em to the Lord, fuck it, send his broad
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Hundred shots through the dark but they never hit my heart
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Nigga, bitch nigga, take a pause
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Hundred shots through the dark, you can never hit my heart
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[Chorus: J. Cole & 50 Cent]
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New York Times
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The New York Times, yeah
~#**************#~
The New York Times
~#**************#~
Extra, extra, read all about it
~#**************#~
They say you can win anywhere if you can win here
~#**************#~
And you aint been no where if you aint been here
~#**************#~
Hustle hard, yeah it really aint a game mane
~#**************#~
Same places, different faces, on the train mane
~#**************#~
New York, New York