Testi:
Dead Boys Big City

floors Big City... ain't too pretty Big City... nice and loud Big City... don't want no pity Big city's one big crowd No chance to make the big time

New York City... You are now rockin with 50 cent.. Are you ready? [Gun click] I said are you ready? See you wit me nigga? DROP DEAD. [mumbles:] Paid

you hear? When the only sound are the drums of war, and you left out in the cold A half-dead man in a half-dead world, on a yellow brick road to gold

ain't the one to speak Dressed in all black, driving six feet hurses With sixteen niggaz, dropping sixteen verses Big faces, bolgin' outta big green purses

all girlies from city to city One for all and all for one Taking out M.C.'s with a big shotgun All for one and one for all Because the Beastie Boys have

to Blaze I mean the guy is fuckin' dead in 47 different ways Yet he's leavin' Heaven hangin' And chillin' with his boys At least until they get his room

All the gold and silver are being stolen away Big Joe Turner lookin' East and West From the dark room of his mind He made it to Kansas City Twelfth Street

, mashing through the red light Puffing on the purple haze, trying to get my head right Boss of the block, I got the city locked Got Killa counting up the scrilla, big

my boys in position So none of my niggas got to pitch on the street It's Young Freezer the bar spitter the big beard From the city of brotherly hate where