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Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
Fabolous
Fabolous
Performer
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Fabolous
Fabolous
Composer
John Jackson
John Jackson
Composer
Justin Smith
Justin Smith
Composer
Brett Bouldin
Brett Bouldin
Composer
Eugene Dixon
Eugene Dixon
Composer
Earl Edwards
Earl Edwards
Composer
Louis Freese
Louis Freese
Composer
Larry Muggerud
Larry Muggerud
Composer
Bernice Williams
Bernice Williams
Composer
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Just Blaze
Just Blaze
Producer
Alton Bates Jr.
Alton Bates Jr.
Recording Engineer
Ken "Duro" Ifill
Ken "Duro" Ifill
Mixing Engineer

Lyrics

Best things come to those who wait It's time to go get it I said I'm so New York, Weezy probably don't like me x3 La-da-da-da-da-da For my city, emphasis on my city You got to go to L.A. if your looking for Diddy You gotta check C.T. if your looking for Fitty Niggas in Paris, but what about the city? I'm so N-Y like the folks who make Playstation Hope ya'll enjoyed your summer vacation I been on that medicine, it's hard to patient Time to come for Sugar Hill, word to Ray Nathan I'm coming for the belt and I stay H'ing Coming for your Idol, word to Clay Aiken Pause - in case they take it the wrong way And bitch niggas always take it the wrong way Still spitting, I'm the city's saliva Want the keys to it like the designated driver Sometimes I listen to my old rhymes, it feels like I had the k-k-keys the whole time Ain't gotta give me credit, I take cash (Broooklyn) Yeah we take cash Those old niggas trying to live off their old bodies These young niggas think they killing shit, with no bodies But this ain't about old school/ new school Cause my old school look better than your new school And I drive my new school like my old school Just to wave at the teachers from my old school In Flex We Trust I let him do my old schools Your Girl Used To Brain Me, You Love My Old School Stop playing, you boys grew up on me I fed you, burped you, until you threw up on it I gave these niggas style, they never had a Clue But they heard the freestyles yea they had the Clues Been doing this a while, probably had your boo She probably came back had a little attitude Gun charge, oh yea I had like two My black lawyer beat them, never had a Jew I done had a few, never use, had them new So I'm Pac, in a white suit, I Ain't Mad At You No Diddy, no Dupri, no Dr. Dre No Cash Money from Baby, and no Rocs from Jay And I'm still here, I'm still here! I'm so New York that I'm still her
Writer(s): Larry Muggerud, Louis M. Freeze, Justin Gregory Smith, Brett Anthony Bouldin, Eugene Drake Dixon, Bernice Williams, Earl G. Sr. Edwards, John David Jackson, Maurice Jordan Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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