Chorus:
Many tired to tame her, many tried to claim her
Left the same way they came—as perfect strangers
The city is yours, the city is yours, the city is yours.

Verse 1:
An old man’s recollection of the places where’s he lived
Image of a Ferris wheel, spins in his head, he asks
Was the era real?
Summertime on the terrace dreaming ‘bout Ebbets field
Below the fellas is grindin’, most of whom like him left their past on Ellis Island
30’s New York, thought Paris might find him
writing that book inside him and cherish his triumph-
Dad laughed and said, ‘You ain’t the son of a scion’.
So he went to work and wrought trellis out of iron
“I am” he said, “already in Zion.
In my twilight years my memory’s dying
But art is long, and life is short
I’ma leave the same way I came-piss poor
But living is an art, feel its true force
My spirit will live on in the people of New York.”


Chorus:
Many tired to tame her, many tried to claim her
Left the same way they came—as perfect strangers
The city is yours, the city is yours, the city is yours.

Verse 2:
A young man's education on love and its obstacles
on the same block where the brothel is,
where they shop that shit, fresh off pyrex pots with it
Mama said, "nothing's impossible...
.........son it's better than home,
'cause where we come from, the sky's lurked by predator drones."
Home is a tenement drenched in a curry smell
where all the neighbors laugh and call it a sleeper cell
cause Mom wears a hijab, Pop rocks a Kufi
young man? well, the boys call him dookie
sayin' he smells like shit, even dissed by other coolies
till he knocked a few out, now they fear his arm
appears calm but he worries his dear Mom
playin' 50 watchin' clips of Amir Khan
when ICE rushed in, tryna deport his mommy,
he yelled, "this is our home! We New Yorkstani!"

Verse 3
Feat. Mo
Deep thoughts of a young teen caught in the cross roads,
A lost soul. Spoke with her head down and talked low.
Specially after her parents divorced, so
And everything got worse, fourfold.
She aspired for them flashing lights like Morse Code.
Used to lock her bedroom door closed, and posed for
glamour shots on the mirror with her torso, imagining herself on a tour boat.
Her mother, was never supportive of her.
Used to tell others, that her best friend Tina was really her lover.
And the fact that she acted so much like her dad was the main reason she had to suffer.
In a household full of fights over who is wrong or right
and a mom who likes to taunt her life.
Our young teen says and responds so calmly,
I make it one day im NY STANI