Correction Lyrics 1997 by Emilio Rojas

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Lyrics

Runnin’ around New York like it’s 1997
Had to get it out the dirt like it’s 1997
Had to put in all this work like it’s 1997
Like it’s 1997, like it’s 1997
Runnin’ around New York like it’s 1997
Had to get it out the dirt like it’s 1997
Had to put in all this work like it’s 1997
Like it’s 1997, like it’s 1997

From a hustler to a leader
I’m not a king, I’m a teacher
Still cost a grip if you want a feature
I’m in the field while y’all in the bleachers
Gave you this ether, catch the beat
Like a wide receiver, I lace my sneakers
Copped the Air Max in gold ‘cause it matches with my soul
Rock a North Face bubble ‘cause the city stay cold
Eat a bacon, egg and cheese, you could say I’m on a roll
Like the money in my wallet son, I could never fold
And don’t ever call me greedy, I’m just takin’ what I’m owed

Runnin’ around New York like it’s 1997
Had to get it out the dirt like it’s 1997
Had to put in all this work like it’s 1997
Like it’s 1997, like it’s 1997
Runnin’ around New York like it’s 1997
Had to get it out the dirt like it’s 1997
Had to put in all this work like it’s 1997
Like it’s 1997, like it’s 1997

Lord, who really wanna box with the god?
Walk with the Glock in my drawers
Put rounds in your face like Saw
I’m a sock full of rocks to your jaw
Get outlined, plottin’ to draw
Money by the jewels at the top of the drawer
Like a b*tch like my diamonds, I don’t see a flaw
I see curtains, it’s curtains, you don’t get the call
Use your mouth when you’re drainin’ my balls
Run it, I’mma gun it and bust it till I done it
Brooklyn, y’all don’t really want it
Somethin’ blue on the rings like Sonic
Got it out the dirt, I will plot you in the dirt
If I spot you with your work
Then it’s pop you off this earth, god

Runnin’ around New York like it’s 1997
Had to get it out the dirt like it’s 1997
Had to put in all this work like it’s 1997
Like it’s 1997, like it’s 1997
Runnin’ around New York like it’s 1997
Had to get it out the dirt like it’s 1997
Had to put in all this work like it’s 1997
Like it’s 1997, like it’s 1997

It was all a dream
Used to read Thrasher magazine
With the Ecko shirts and baggy jeans
We’d wax those curbs and hit the streets
With my friends all servin’ twitchin’ fiends
And the town was the place then
We’d freestyle down in the basement
A couple females round gettin’ naked
It was like the movie Kids was bein’ made then, yeah
Listenin’ to Pun on my New York sh*t
Ewing jersey, New York Knicks
Uptown with all my New York spics
And I held it down for New York since, uh
Ain’t nobody out realer
In the Es shoes, we ain’t rock Fila
With a thick broad shaped like Shakira
Gotta spell it out for ‘em like Akeelah, yeah

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