Lyrics

[Intro: Dre] Uhhhh Haah, haah, haah This is, this is, this is, this is, this is Uhhh This is, this is Hundred guns Uh [Chorus: Ja Rule] I got a hundred guns, a hundred clips Nigga I'm from New York, New York I got a semi-automatic that spits Next time if you talk, you talk I got a hundred guns, a hundred clips Nigga I'm from New York, New York I got a semi-automatic that spits Next time if you talk, you talk And I know [Verse 1: Ja Rule] Y'all niggas is pussy, punani, vagina Your monologue's gettin' tired, now it's time to ride Apprentice, you fired, you're no longer desired So take off them silly chains, put back on your wire I'm on fire Highly dipped in octane Let East Coast bang, let West Coast bang And Rule gon' bring the ghetto gospel (Oohhhhhh!) To every hood possiblе, pushin' through in the sky blue Back with the God-U-now, prеferably the four pound Slugs flyin' at the speed of sound Tryna catch the ears of niggas that's runnin' they mouths I might get my Brooklyn niggas to run in your house I don't really understand what the runnin's about But we hunters, we take pride in airing our prey out Leavin' 'em laid out dead and just a sport 'Cause we ain't playin' up here in New York [Chorus: Fat Joe] I got a hundred guns, a hundred clips Nigga I'm from New York, New York And you can tell the way the homie spit (Woo!) That nigga I'm from New York, New York (BX, BX) I got a hundred ways to make a grip (Uh, uh) Yes, (yes) I'm from New York, New York And you can tell I get real ignorant (Blat, blat, blat, blat!) 'Cause nigga I'm from New York, New York And this is how we do [Verse 2: Fat Joe] Nigga I could see the coke in your nose This ain't a movie, even he got his head blown on the globe And I was just about to find God But now that Ma$e is back, (ha ha) I think I'd much rather find a ménage And 'eybody talkin' crazy how they AK spit But we done did some 'vestigating and they ain't spray shit Not me, I'm the truth homie, got the industry shook Like, "Naw nigga, Joe gon' let 'em loose on me" True story, I'm bringin' the T back Even Roy Jones was forced to lean back (lean back) My nigga Dre said, "grind, Cook", now we killin' them hard Niggas sayin' I must've found Pun's rhyme book Got bitches on top of the Phantom And the pinky got bling like the ring around Saturn Cook, Coke, Crack, niggas fiend for that And you already know the X is where the team be at, uhh [Chorus: Ja Rule] I got a hundred guns, a hundred clips Nigga I'm from New York, New York Where even bitches ain't havin' that shit right here in New York, New York Where you from? nigga rep yo set Let the guns pop off, pop off I got a hundred guns, a hundred clips Nigga I'm from New York, New York And you know [Verse 3: Ja Rule] New York's my fuckin' stompin' ground Not from Atlanta but I'll A-Town stomp ya down 'Cause yo style is my style, don't make me get hostile or pistal and thunder clap that ass like dance [?] Clap, ssss, clap Baby 'cause I'm from New York That don't mean I don't love L.A. (I love L.A.) Or the M.I.A. 'cause every hoods the same From Houston to Fort Green, from the Chi to Hollis Queens, things Subject to change 'cause I'm livin' by any means (come on) necessary One might even ask (you know) is it necessary To bust guns (oh) but my behavior's hereditary (oh) My two sons (oh) they emulate this behavior already (go) Livin' in a big city You know big guns, big cars, big willies (Ja, baby) I don' rolled weed and two Phillies [?] [?] And we don't we keep our cash and banks's in night boxes, ha ha [Chorus: Ja Rule & Fat Joe] I got a hundred guns, a hundred clips Nigga I'm from New York New York And you could tell the way the homie spit That nigga I'm from New York New York I got a hundred guns, a hundred clips Nigga I'm from New York New York And you can tell I get real ignorant 'Cause nigga I'm from New York New York And this is how we do