Jay‐Z NYMP Lyrics

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Geyeah, NYMP the realest, uhh
This is educated thug MU-SIC, *****z

Life's a battle, mean streets eat you alive
Blocks'll have you, tryin to maintain your course
Through the potholes and gravel
Hot holes and what-have-you, tryin to clock dough
Foes tryin to pop shots through you by code
Pigs tryin to grab you and lock up your soul
Through the Hot Apple, nighttime shots crackle
(bucka bucka bucka) Fiends tryin to gaffle you
Not only cokeheads but the Feds in the Mercuray Topaz
After you, up the avenue
Tryin to give you big numbers, you got math to do
Tryin to make you miss summer, ****, that ain't cool
I caught smaller cases tryin to get cap or two
Up against the wall, tryin to pass through
Ghost-like, hear the cries from the tortured souls
Most nights, I hold my toast tight, and it goes like

N.Y.M.P., the realest *****z
N.Y.M.P., the realest *****z
Uhh, uh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest
Marcy.. Brooklyn

Yo; I come through, gettin money, sittin on twenties
*****z throwin me shade, but ain't **** sunny
Hot shells only thing *****z could get from me
Cocktails thrown in your living room, KA-BOOM
I'm so confrontational;
They shoulda never let me go on probation yo
I'm a hustler; except that
No correctional facilities can correct that
I took a step back, I viewed myself, seen where my head was at
It's where that dough is homey, gotta get that
Gotta get away, some try but head back
Uhh, street smart *****z got left back
Some died, they left stacks
Me, I ball right, and on top of that I'm dog nice
Jigga been cold as **** before ice
Not before Christ, but a long ****in time
Get your mind right *****z

N.Y.M.P., the realest
Uh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P., the realest *****z
Uhh uh-huh, uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest *****z
Marcy.. feel me

I looked Death in the face years back
I held tears back, I gathered myself and stared back
I'm from where you don't crack, the weak don't live
You gotta bounce back homey, the streets don't give
I take and rape villages, who gon' stop him?
Not Rudy Guiliani, not Hillary Rodham
Still I still pop him
**** I grassy knoll and hilltop him, it's all political now
I think big when I spit at you now
Between my dog and the figures, the four gonna get'cha
Between life and death, they killed my spirit
So what little life I got left, y'all can expect me to ball
I ? myself, teacher said I was a lost cause
Cause I used to roam them halls
Still I spit knowledge, dropped out of high school, skipped college
Who woulda thought I'd make it "Big" like Ms. Wallace?

Uhh, yeah, N.Y.M.P., the realest *****z
Brooklyn, what? N.Y.M.P., the realest *****z
Uhh, uh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest *****z
Marcy.. Brooklyn, N.Y.M.P. the realest, feel me

Educated, thug mu-sic *****z
This is Brooklyn, this is gangsta, this is project
Real ****, N.Y.M.P. the realest *****z
Marcy, Brooklyn, stompin grounds
**** with me
Vol. 3... Life and Times of S. Carter Track Listing
CD 1
  • 1 Hova Song (intro)
  • 2 So Ghetto
  • 3 Do It Again (Put Ya Hands Up)
  • 4 Dope Man
  • 5 Things That U Do
  • 6 It's Hot (Some Like It Hot)
  • 7 Snoopy Track
  • 8 S. Carter
  • 9 Pop 4 Roc
  • 10 Watch Me
  • 11 Big Pimpin'
  • 12 There's Been a Murder
  • 13 Come and Get Me
  • 14 NYMP
  • 15 Hova Song (outro)
  • 16 Anything / Jigga My Nigga / Girl's Best Friend
  • Artists A to Z: