A is for the apple, take a bite and spit it out.

B is for bodega, eating on your mama's couch.

Low bazooka with a Puerto Rican chula.

Says she working in the city and she getting hula.

C is for the crib, the cat's the call you catch.

CBGB's baby sneaking blondie through the back.

D is for the downtown kids that's hitting licks.

Skater boys in the park trying to fuck some white chicks.

E is for the east side, rough ride, ride or die.

Motorbikes from every side, flying down the FDR,

breaking Dutch's in the car.

G is for the ghetto girls and rainbow clothes.

Baby hairs and well done toes.

Single mothers carry those, bummy sneakers with a dose.

Getting going, gold and gold.

Hunts Point got the hottest hoes.

In the city, tragic woes.

Stata Street, the bloody hoes.

Shorty dancing on the pole, casually as casual be.

Bloody hands with the anatomy.

Jehovah witness at your door, acting like nobody home.

TV off all alone.

Kick the door, Mama Jones in on the phone.

Baca in the dubion, waiting on her tax return.

Low lives, lighting L's, pouring down for ones they love.

Tompkins Square, lower east, the Nancy for the deli meats.

You don't come to see a D.

I'm in Manhattan like I'm Woody Allen.

Jewish, Puerto Rican, and a little bit Italian.

Sitting on the steps outside, the natural history.

New York, fuck the city, and I love the history.

Everything a melted pot.

Every block is fucking hot.

83rd, the train stop.

Open cases, old and shorty braces.

Pick you up on Warren Squad, now they running faces.

Pick you up by the park, we was voguing by the pier.

Paris, Vernon, full of queens.

Hit the village every year.

Rolling out to the rave.

Village boy, six page.

I was diving off the stage.

Going out every day.

Stick ball in the summer.

You know it's summertime.

Sean McGee and Soulful singing doo -wop every night.

Subway trains going by, squatters sitting state marks.

Shooting up in Tompkins Park.

Know it's dirty after dark.

Tunnels taking turns, playing tag on the curb.

Touching on some titties, taking change out your purse.

Undercover agents, I could spot them all the way.

Yo, I hate the fucking cops.

NYPD, get away.

Underground on MTA.

Close my eyes and ride the train.

Back and forth and every day.

Anywhere, anyway.

Xerox copies, zine stapled onto opposing trains.

Got a show, come and see.

New York is the place to be

where you go and live your dreams.

Living in the city, you can't be a xenophobe.

There's the melted pot and the soup is never cold.

Young lords, young lords, they live inside of me.

I got a problem, B, with white supremacy.

Rolling through my zip code, 10029.

ABC's in New York and I'll be doing fine.