New York, New York 歌词
| 歌曲 | New York, New York |
| 歌手 | Tha Dogg Pound |
| 专辑 | Dogg Food |
| 下载 | Image LRC TXT |
| Yo b (turn your speakers up man) | |
| Turn your speakers up money! | |
| Yo god! (yo god?) | |
| Yo i got mad skills. | |
| Isn't that money? | |
| Chorus: snoop | |
| New york new york big city of dreams | |
| And everything in new york ain't always what it seems | |
| You might get fooled if you come from out of town | |
| But i'm down by law, and i'm from the dogg pound | |
| Verse one: kurupt | |
| It's the incredible, the lyrical | |
| You can't be me like niece, to see me is gonna take a miracle | |
| I'm driving motherfuckers hysterical, with a | |
| Touch of this twister, stylistic mixture | |
| What i create pulsates, there is no escape | |
| Annihilate your mental mindstate | |
| Dre labels my vocabulary abusive | |
| I packs more knowledge than confuscius, i'm deadly | |
| Induce you like medusa, with thoughts to shed | |
| And niggaz throughout this hemisphere, far and near | |
| Prepare, catch me chillin like the winter | |
| Up against the number one contender, as i enter | |
| Cause i gets heated like friction | |
| Motherfuck your whole jurisdiction, react this fact not fiction | |
| Telepathic addiction, to this homicidal recital | |
| Dangerous and vital to all my rivals | |
| Suicidal, brainwaves conveys | |
| To the average motherfucker's minds these days | |
| I'm all ready to put work in | |
| Take ten steps and turn to shoot the first nigga smirkin | |
| Give a fuck, what's your name, what you claim | |
| Or why you came, motherfucker don't explain | |
| Simply, don't tempt me, cause i'm simply | |
| Layin hoes lifes empty, the invicible mc | |
| Chorus one | |
| Chorus two: snoop | |
| Too much, i serve too many people, too much | |
| It's too much, i serve too many people | |
| And when i finish servin ain't gon be no sequel | |
| Chorus one and two | |
| Verse two: kurupt | |
| Gimme a couple g's, for every mc, i knocked to his knees | |
| Verbally useless, oh you got the juice? i squeeze you juiceless | |
| The barbaric, versatile, you're no kin to me | |
| So how the fuck you inherit my style? | |
| Now, out the clear blue sky, i can't deny | |
| Not a day goes by, don't get high, don't ask why | |
| Tonight's the night for me to rip microphones | |
| Into bits and pieces lyrical telekinesis | |
| Gets me into verbally vindictive | |
| Violent vocabulary bobs to existance | |
| Catch me in the pitch black path | |
| I sit and let the sick thought pass through my mental | |
| Till i hear an instrumental | |
| And detrimental verbals get to spittin | |
| The highest in intellect, try connectin with the written | |
| Now they faced with the forbidden, vocally chosen | |
| To explore new terrain, then remain unseen, throughout the war | |
| Dips like a low-low, with my verbal fo'-fo' | |
| The cocoa complexion mc with the slow flow | |
| Fo sho', i takes it to you from the do' | |
| Motherfucker, mentally i go hardco' (you know!) | |
| I disconnect ya, kurupter, mc to vocally | |
| Bore your whole molecular, structure | |
| Catastrophic, mystic as mixelplix | |
| Hittin mc's like picks the deadliest lyricist | |
| Chorus one and two: repeat 2x | |
| [kurupt] | |
| We live... tonight i serve two thousand mc's | |
| We live... cause can't none fuck with the dpg'z | |
| [daz] | |
| We live (baby) because tonight i serve two thousand mc's | |
| We live (baby) none can fuck with the dpg'z | |
| [snoop] | |
| Dpgc, ba-by | |
| Abc the dpg'z | |
| Ba-by... | |
| Verse three: kurupt | |
| Eryday, i bust rhymes and recite | |
| In ways that make mc's stop in daylight | |
| I'm the deadlies mc you wanna see on the streets | |
| Invincibility is what makes me complete, compete | |
| Nah you can't even fade me | |
| I fuck, you, your momma, your auntie, and your lady... | |
| *bzzt to static* |
| Yo b turn your speakers up man | |
| Turn your speakers up money! | |
| Yo god! yo god? | |
| Yo i got mad skills. | |
| Isn' t that money? | |
| Chorus: snoop | |
| New york new york big city of dreams | |
| And everything in new york ain' t always what it seems | |
| You might get fooled if you come from out of town | |
| But i' m down by law, and i' m from the dogg pound | |
| Verse one: kurupt | |
| It' s the incredible, the lyrical | |
| You can' t be me like niece, to see me is gonna take a miracle | |
| I' m driving motherfuckers hysterical, with a | |
| Touch of this twister, stylistic mixture | |
| What i create pulsates, there is no escape | |
| Annihilate your mental mindstate | |
| Dre labels my vocabulary abusive | |
| I packs more knowledge than confuscius, i' m deadly | |
| Induce you like medusa, with thoughts to shed | |
| And niggaz throughout this hemisphere, far and near | |
| Prepare, catch me chillin like the winter | |
| Up against the number one contender, as i enter | |
| Cause i gets heated like friction | |
| Motherfuck your whole jurisdiction, react this fact not fiction | |
| Telepathic addiction, to this homicidal recital | |
| Dangerous and vital to all my rivals | |
| Suicidal, brainwaves conveys | |
| To the average motherfucker' s minds these days | |
| I' m all ready to put work in | |
| Take ten steps and turn to shoot the first nigga smirkin | |
| Give a fuck, what' s your name, what you claim | |
| Or why you came, motherfucker don' t explain | |
| Simply, don' t tempt me, cause i' m simply | |
| Layin hoes lifes empty, the invicible mc | |
| Chorus one | |
| Chorus two: snoop | |
| Too much, i serve too many people, too much | |
| It' s too much, i serve too many people | |
| And when i finish servin ain' t gon be no sequel | |
| Chorus one and two | |
| Verse two: kurupt | |
| Gimme a couple g' s, for every mc, i knocked to his knees | |
| Verbally useless, oh you got the juice? i squeeze you juiceless | |
| The barbaric, versatile, you' re no kin to me | |
| So how the fuck you inherit my style? | |
| Now, out the clear blue sky, i can' t deny | |
| Not a day goes by, don' t get high, don' t ask why | |
| Tonight' s the night for me to rip microphones | |
| Into bits and pieces lyrical telekinesis | |
| Gets me into verbally vindictive | |
| Violent vocabulary bobs to existance | |
| Catch me in the pitch black path | |
| I sit and let the sick thought pass through my mental | |
| Till i hear an instrumental | |
| And detrimental verbals get to spittin | |
| The highest in intellect, try connectin with the written | |
| Now they faced with the forbidden, vocally chosen | |
| To explore new terrain, then remain unseen, throughout the war | |
| Dips like a lowlow, with my verbal fo' fo' | |
| The cocoa complexion mc with the slow flow | |
| Fo sho', i takes it to you from the do' | |
| Motherfucker, mentally i go hardco' you know! | |
| I disconnect ya, kurupter, mc to vocally | |
| Bore your whole molecular, structure | |
| Catastrophic, mystic as mixelplix | |
| Hittin mc' s like picks the deadliest lyricist | |
| Chorus one and two: repeat 2x | |
| kurupt | |
| We live... tonight i serve two thousand mc' s | |
| We live... cause can' t none fuck with the dpg' z | |
| daz | |
| We live baby because tonight i serve two thousand mc' s | |
| We live baby none can fuck with the dpg' z | |
| snoop | |
| Dpgc, baby | |
| Abc the dpg' z | |
| Baby... | |
| Verse three: kurupt | |
| Eryday, i bust rhymes and recite | |
| In ways that make mc' s stop in daylight | |
| I' m the deadlies mc you wanna see on the streets | |
| Invincibility is what makes me complete, compete | |
| Nah you can' t even fade me | |
| I fuck, you, your momma, your auntie, and your lady... | |
| bzzt to static |
| Yo b turn your speakers up man | |
| Turn your speakers up money! | |
| Yo god! yo god? | |
| Yo i got mad skills. | |
| Isn' t that money? | |
| Chorus: snoop | |
| New york new york big city of dreams | |
| And everything in new york ain' t always what it seems | |
| You might get fooled if you come from out of town | |
| But i' m down by law, and i' m from the dogg pound | |
| Verse one: kurupt | |
| It' s the incredible, the lyrical | |
| You can' t be me like niece, to see me is gonna take a miracle | |
| I' m driving motherfuckers hysterical, with a | |
| Touch of this twister, stylistic mixture | |
| What i create pulsates, there is no escape | |
| Annihilate your mental mindstate | |
| Dre labels my vocabulary abusive | |
| I packs more knowledge than confuscius, i' m deadly | |
| Induce you like medusa, with thoughts to shed | |
| And niggaz throughout this hemisphere, far and near | |
| Prepare, catch me chillin like the winter | |
| Up against the number one contender, as i enter | |
| Cause i gets heated like friction | |
| Motherfuck your whole jurisdiction, react this fact not fiction | |
| Telepathic addiction, to this homicidal recital | |
| Dangerous and vital to all my rivals | |
| Suicidal, brainwaves conveys | |
| To the average motherfucker' s minds these days | |
| I' m all ready to put work in | |
| Take ten steps and turn to shoot the first nigga smirkin | |
| Give a fuck, what' s your name, what you claim | |
| Or why you came, motherfucker don' t explain | |
| Simply, don' t tempt me, cause i' m simply | |
| Layin hoes lifes empty, the invicible mc | |
| Chorus one | |
| Chorus two: snoop | |
| Too much, i serve too many people, too much | |
| It' s too much, i serve too many people | |
| And when i finish servin ain' t gon be no sequel | |
| Chorus one and two | |
| Verse two: kurupt | |
| Gimme a couple g' s, for every mc, i knocked to his knees | |
| Verbally useless, oh you got the juice? i squeeze you juiceless | |
| The barbaric, versatile, you' re no kin to me | |
| So how the fuck you inherit my style? | |
| Now, out the clear blue sky, i can' t deny | |
| Not a day goes by, don' t get high, don' t ask why | |
| Tonight' s the night for me to rip microphones | |
| Into bits and pieces lyrical telekinesis | |
| Gets me into verbally vindictive | |
| Violent vocabulary bobs to existance | |
| Catch me in the pitch black path | |
| I sit and let the sick thought pass through my mental | |
| Till i hear an instrumental | |
| And detrimental verbals get to spittin | |
| The highest in intellect, try connectin with the written | |
| Now they faced with the forbidden, vocally chosen | |
| To explore new terrain, then remain unseen, throughout the war | |
| Dips like a lowlow, with my verbal fo' fo' | |
| The cocoa complexion mc with the slow flow | |
| Fo sho', i takes it to you from the do' | |
| Motherfucker, mentally i go hardco' you know! | |
| I disconnect ya, kurupter, mc to vocally | |
| Bore your whole molecular, structure | |
| Catastrophic, mystic as mixelplix | |
| Hittin mc' s like picks the deadliest lyricist | |
| Chorus one and two: repeat 2x | |
| kurupt | |
| We live... tonight i serve two thousand mc' s | |
| We live... cause can' t none fuck with the dpg' z | |
| daz | |
| We live baby because tonight i serve two thousand mc' s | |
| We live baby none can fuck with the dpg' z | |
| snoop | |
| Dpgc, baby | |
| Abc the dpg' z | |
| Baby... | |
| Verse three: kurupt | |
| Eryday, i bust rhymes and recite | |
| In ways that make mc' s stop in daylight | |
| I' m the deadlies mc you wanna see on the streets | |
| Invincibility is what makes me complete, compete | |
| Nah you can' t even fade me | |
| I fuck, you, your momma, your auntie, and your lady... | |
| bzzt to static |
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