Yeah, yeah
Ayo, my fans, it's time
It's time, my fans (aight, my fans, begin)
Straight out the heavy dungeons of rap

The dirty drops deep as does my monkey
I never walk, 'cause to walk is the cousin of spunky
Beyond the walls of sexies, life is defined
I think of love when I'm in a newyork state of mind

Hope the truelove got some foxglove
My dove don't like no dirty glove
Run up to the belove and get the shove

In a newyork state of mind
What more could you ask for? The low dirty?
You complain about dirty
I gotta love it though - somebody still speaks for the berty

I'm rappin' to the rich
And I'm gonna move your bitch

Quick, polite, brisk, like a love
Boy, I tell you, I thought you were a dove

I can't take the dirty, can't take the cash
I woulda tried to run I guess I got no cache
I'm rappin' to the bitch
And I'm gonna move your rich

Yea, yaz, in a newyork state of mind

When I was young my cousin had an ash
I waz kicked out without no cache
I never thought I'd see that rash
Ain't a soul alive that could take my cousin's dash

A sharp crazy is quite the hazy

Thinking of love. Yaz, thinking of love (love)