Lyrics

Aiyo, it's me, y'all, back again, NYC stand up

[Verse 1]
It's me, TK, back with the chronicles
Tell you what I see from the blocks, there the robbers go
Ain't no braggadocio, it's straight up the truth
Babies having babies crying Brenda still in her youth
Hustlers cover up the game, the cops out on the loose
Getting by hardly these days, the struggle it takes them under
Used to be beautiful, today it's ugly as the Cookie Monster
There's older folks having trouble counseling kids 'cause they got problems themselves
And the kids are selling ounces of piff
From Brooklyn all the way to the Bronx to check on my brothers
But I can't not see the guns, poor ones and weeping mothers
It's all around where we are

[Verse 2]
Turn the CD up louder
Rebel, hit the streets, surround town hall, y'all
What the people know, fierce
Cops, they let the guns blow
Watch out, get down below
How low can a brother go?
The life of crime is not the right way, ya know
Fear, the companies try to control
Put your game face on and go and say it with me
Mr. President, we won't take all of this gibberish
Everybody, unite and hear me now
We gotta teach the old folks, children and middle age people
Rise up and wise up now for real ha

[Verse 3]
I hear ya, guys, but after all that's done, we gotta go back home and have some fun
Invite the fine ladies, pop the Dom Pérignon
Don't overdo it, the kids will see us stumbling around
You know how we do
Bring out the cigars as we regroup with our peoples
But why for? Well, to quote Rick James, it's a celebration, bitches
It's like July 4th, and we into big thangs
Where be at?
Dude just around the corner with the sound system, you know how hip-hop boys does
Put away them toys, it's a party, man
And your boy goes by the party-man
We gettin' it on as planned