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Dirty New Yorker Lyrics - The Most Infamous - Prodigy

Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah 

Uh, uh, uh 

Yeah... 

 

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Baby mama let's roll, here we go, Cheerio, cereal 

Killa with the flow and the blow and the dro' 

And the gun go ring, hit 'em all in a row 

AK-47, .40-glock, .44, let 'em know from the door 

How it go, it's not a joke, there's gon' be a homicide 

I'ma ride, I'ma rep me a nigga up in the box 

and send 'em to his folks, his bloods, his kin 

The drama it don't end, bust a gun 

Bust a nigga's face open with the hand 

Tell 'em go tell a friend, tell a cop, tell the FEDS 

I don't give a mothafuck, you niggas in the Ps 

I'ma let the world see you, you're a bitch, you're a snitch 

I'ma Mobb Deep gangsta, Infamous soldier 

If you got a cold heart then my shit just froze over 

Range Rover, Chevy Suburban, the bullet proof trim 

The windows on the crib, bullet proof them 

 

Photos 

 

() Prodigy X2 

You're fucking with a Dirty New Yorker 

Quens in this bitch fall back or get roped up 

You're fucking with a Dirty New Yorker 

Quens mothafucka, move and get smoked up 

 

Ay' baby mama let's slide on the floor 

I'ma pro with the flow 

I can go on forever tell me when to stop yo 

My first album Head Nigga in Charge it went gold 

With my next shit I'm just trying to seel a lil mo' 

I won't be mad if it's less, I'm still filthy rich 

We going on a permanent tour and never coming back 

I'ma vet not a pet, you gon' see when I flip 

Niggas trip fall on their face and bust their own shit 

Come for me you gon' run up to a wall of cement 

Certain niggas not to be touched and I'm one of 'em 

Pop to bub me, crack open the Goose and the Gin 

You gon' get real fucked up in memory of them 

I'ma cop some more ice, houses and whips 

Why they mad? 'Cause they can't spend money like this 

180 on the wrist, 190 on the six-speed 

Porsche with the turbo and shatter proof tenth 

 

() Prodigy X2 

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