Welcome To New York City Lyrics - Come Home With Me - Cam'ron

Turn the motherfucking music up 

Just Blaze, man. You owe me nigga 

Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah. Welcome to the Empire State. 

Home of the World Trade. Birthplace of Michael Jordan. 

Home of Biggie Smalls. Roc-A-Fella headquaters. 

Ladies and gentlemen, Killa Cam, Young Hov is definitely in the building 

Brooklyn, Harlem World 

(Welcome to New York City, welcome to New York City) 

Stand the fuck up! 

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(Jay-Z) 

I'm a B.K. brawler 

Marcy projects hallway loiterer 

Pure coke copper, get your order up 

I bring em to Baltimore in the Ford Explorer 

But it's gonna cost you more if I gotta get em to Florida 

Rucker game attender; with the bent parked 

on the sidewalk with temp plates on the fender 

I ain't hard to find you catch me front and center 

At the Knick game, big chain and all my splender 

Next to Spike if you pan left to right 

I own Madison Square, catch me at the fight 

With Cam, once again if you pan left the device 

It be the man that write checks with the hand that don't write 

I go off the head when I'm rambling on the mic 

And I go off the feds when I'm srambling at night 

And it was, off the set I brought hammers to the fight 

But we from New York City, right Cam? (Cam: Ya damn right) 

Photos 

(Juelz Santana) 

It's the home of 9-11, the place of the lost towers 

We still banging, we never lost power, tell em 

Welcome to New York City, welcome to New York City 

Y'all fuckin with BK's banger and Harlem's own gangster 

Now that's danger, there's nothing left to say but 

Welcome to New York City, welcome to New York City 

(Cam'Ron) 

Yo. 

Theres a war going on outside no man is safe from 

It don't matter if you three feet or eight-one 

You'll get eight from the nine-m, straight "blum"! 

Wig split, melon cracked, all that on day one 

Carry eight guns, two in the trunk 

Two on the waist, two in the ankle, two to just spank you 

You get jammed with them jammers, blam with them blammers 

Hot here, ask Mase he ran to Atlanta 

You think we know what life do, Mink on the motor-cycle 

Trinkets they so delightful, blinging is so much ice boo 

In front of sparks, body Castellano 

Block away watched by Gotti and Gravano 

It's "La Costa Nostra", someone close approach ya 

They'll toast ya gopher, bread loaf your chauffeur 

Old coke they raise up and snort, blaze up ya fort 

Jay, Puff, Shyne, cases was caught 

Midnight pit fights, they love a victim 

Watch him fore he watch you, Killa 

() 

(Cam'Ron) 

I'm from 101, west a Hun' fortieth, this shit is live 

Fifth-floor, fifty-six, you know the zip, district five 

You're on 22nd, yet you from two-one 

Thats on Lennox, 7th ave was news one 

(Jay-Z) 

Courage I synastry 

Got (lawyer name?) defending me 

Cause New York'll miss me if I'm locked in the penitentary 

The judge said "Is this that thug, from the kit kat club?" 

But I got enough chips stacked up to make a bitch to back up 

(Cam'Ron) 

Killa, I pinch that bud, I grip that snub to hit that thug 

Lay up in a pitch black tub, 

You lookin at rich black thugs that get that love 

And it won't stop til I get back Blood 

Holla at em Hov 

(Jay-Z) 

I'm from Flushing, Marcy, Nostrand, Myrtle and Park 

Niggas'll drive by in the day, murder you in the dark 

Thats why the Johnny gun I'm holding 

Wet niggas up like the johnny-pump is open 

Homie, I play hard 

() 

(Cam'Ron) Yall niggas man, ya'll can't fuck around man 

It's the ROC bitch, Killa! My nigga Jigga. Sigel! Beans! 

Diplomats man, Hoffa! Dash! 

Get the fuck off our dick - no homo 

Pause, this is all i wanted to say for 2 minutes man 

I own this shit right now man, I ain't going nowhere