In the city of dreams,

you get caught up in the schemes

and fall apart in the seam

Tonight

That boy he used to bomb,

From B.K. to the Bronx

and it’s the fortunate one, who dies

New York, we ready!

He move from LAS to SoHo (hooo)

A few blocks for those who don’t know (ohh)

Down the hall punched a hole in the wall

Bounced out, all are in control

Certified son of a gun

Learns life lesson 101

Don’t fly too high on your own supply

Get burnt by the sun

Coz in the city of dreams

You get caught up in the schemes

And fall apart in the seam

Tonight

That boy he is the bomb,

From B.K. to the Bronx

And it’s the fortunate one who dies

He was NY’s talk of the town

Heard out to the LI sound (okay)

He started datin models and he figured it out

He used to be a nice guy, then he cut that sh!t out

Qualified sex machine

No better than a vowed fiend

She wanted a ride to the upper east side

but he dropped her ass off in queens

Coz in the city of dreams

You get caught up in the schemes

and fall apart in the seam

Tonight

That boy would play his guitar

like he was ready for war (You ready, K?)

And then he’d lift up his voice to the (It’s your man Nas here)

Sky (Take it straight through New York City)

Yo, ok, my city, my town, my crown

Michael Bloomberg, forget what you heard

I’m thought of highly, shoppin Louie, Gianni

Christian LaCrosse shades, what can a boss say?

City, bus, the subway, cab, the runway

Ski masks and gunplay my past at a young age

The illest city on the planet

Towers came down, Wall Street barely standin

We Crook Brothers, opposite of Brook Brothers

My footsteps of Scatman Crothers

It’s just generations of style to get five luminous minutes with me

Interviews on how I flip sixty-twos

This isn’t my style, I spit what I’m livin right now

I’m out on the town, gold bars shuttin it down

Bottles stacked from the floor to the ceiling

Then it’s a loud fool, fifty-third street, right near the Hilton

I’m fightin the feeling I had when I was lightin up buildings

Now I’m writin for millions of listeners

Critics who just don’t get it

They try dissin us, New York full of kings and queens,

all the rest just mimic us

Coz in the city of dreams

you get caught up in the schemes

and fall apart in the seam

Tonight

That boy would play his guitar

like he was ready for war

And then he’d lift up his voice to the sky