歌手:J. Cole
专辑:《Born Sinner (Deluxe Version)》

作词 : Curtis Jackson/Bas/Jermaine Cole
作曲 : Curtis Jackson/Bas/Jermaine Cole
New York Times （Feat.50 Cent & Bas） - J. Cole

This for all my ****** in the city

This **** really for Queens though

Really for Queens though

Ya know?

Big city of dreams, motivated by schemes

Getting money regimine with my get money machine

Nah mean? yeah

Yeah New York times
Come listen to these New York rhymes

A southern ***** with a New York mind

In the concrete jungle of Queen trying to be kings

Getting to the money of sins by any means
As I watch it all, pain out, trying not to stand out
Fish out of water, unofficial reporter
Appear, life is a ***** I blow a kiss at her daughter
In a city with ***** will leave you **** outta order
So yeah, you heard the news, disturbing news
Shot a brother in the head, thank the lord he ain't dead
Was in a coma for months, eyes ain't opened them once
My ***** visibally stretch in a mess he's smoking a blunt
What could I say, I can't relate to that
All I do is pray for that
This is city god told me : 'go and make it' at
I got a date with destiny, I'm running late for that
Grab a paper, hey kid, you gotta pay for that

The New York Times

The New York Times
（Extra, extra, read all about it）
They say you can win anywhere
If you can win here
And you ain't been no where if you ain't been here

Ball so hard you aint really in the game man
Same place, different face, on the train, man
New York, New York
Hop on the F train, took the express train
Skip that local ****, my vocal sick
That's how success came
Once kings now we pawns in this chess game
Wall Street got black slave blood stains
Which means, we built this city
And never got scraps while the devil got fat
In fact, reparation for ****** and desperation

**** money, get my kid a real education
Blood money spills, had a real revelation
Southside make you realize there's still segregation
Don't wanna preach I'm just thinking out loud
Sometimes I wanna save the world and
I be thinking bout how
To lead my ****** to paradise
Imagine the world, free from pain
And we no longer scared the night
Far from the crime, the blind leading the blind
We gon make it primetime till we dyin'
The New York Times

The New York Times

The New York Times
（Extra, extra, read all about it）
They say you can win anywhere
If you can win here
And you ain't been no where if you ain't been here
Ball so hard you aint really in the game man
Same place, different face, on the train, man
New York, New York
How I go from selling reefa and plates
Till eating steaks with Cole and playing FIFA with Drake
Should've been in the States, property of the Jakes
Now I'm plotting on profits and properties on the lake
Let me properly immigrate you to it
Show you how the heads of states and gangsters do it
Them ****** talk a lot of **** but they ain't been through it
I done been up in everything, cars you never seen
City's you never heard of, from the streets where they murder
Police observe us till they reach the verdict
Kill 'em all, ******* kill 'em all
If you can't send 'em till the pen
Send 'em to the morgue
Send 'em to the Lord, **** it, send his broad
Hundred shots through the dark
But they never hit my heart, *****

***** *****, take a pause
Hundred shots through the dark you can never hit my heart
The New York Times

The New York Times

The New York Times
（Extra, extra, read all about it）
They say you can win anywhere
If you can win here
And you ain't been no where if you ain't been here
Ball so hard you aint really in the game man
Same place, different face, on the train, man
New York, New York