Letras New York, New York - The Last Poets

New York, New York

New York, New York, the big apple\nNew York, New York, the big apple\nNew York, New York\n(The big apple)\nSixteen million feet\nNationals, Tom McAns, Florsheims\nStepping on each other\nRejoicing over the death of one nigga toe\nCold, calloused feet\nTrotting up and down synthetic avenues\nStreets and gardens\nGardens that grow shit\nGardens where putty faced beings sit emotionlessly\nAdmiring bastard flowers\nNew York, New York\n(The big apple)\nA prerequisite to America\nA disguised sin\nWhere some brother from that closed southern shit\nComes to some open northern shit\nFor a vacation\nFor an opportunity\nAn opportunity that knocks up sisters\nAnd knocks them in the head\nFor an opportunity that takes them home\nWith dope in the arm\nAnd all on their brain\nNew York, New York\n(The big apple)\nNew York, New York\nNew sameness, new food, same shit\nNew car, same gas without\nNew love, same neurosis\nNew installation, same hose\nNew hairdo, same minds\nNew style, same influence\nNew York, New York, the big apple\nWhere jive farmers are running around\nShaking hands with all the grass-root people\nNever getting choked by the grass\nNew York, New York\nWhere Queen Liberty\nIn the middle of pea green water\nTelling a brother he’s liberated\n(Statue of Liberty is a prostitute)\nYeah, he is liberated\nFrom the old Mississippi to the new Mississippi\nNew York, New York, the big apple\nWhere freak looking filthy white rodents are running around\nSpreading new kinds of venereal diseases\nTalking about «we love everybody»\n«We love everybody»\nNew York, New York\n(The big apple)\nWatching movies marked «adults only»\nWhen it should be for kids only\nThe A train, the D train, the F train\nThat underground, undercurrent steel plated frame\nUnworkable air vents, ass aching benches\nAnd then there’s that corny paraphernalia\nAll over the interior\nInside of this there’s a brother\nBeing soaked in by that shit on the wall\nSuffocating from bad breath in the air\nIn pain cause some white jackass is riding on his foot\nNew York, New York, the big apple\nNew York, New York\nWhile on the train\nYou see young and old white wrinkly faces\nPeeking over crooked shoulders and under cardboard hats\nPoking their noses at you\nVampire eyes staring at you, wondering who you are\nNew York, New York\nAn exploited colony called Brownsville\nBedford-Stuyvesant or Harlem\nWhere tiny, fat Jews are holding the fiery hoop\nAnd watching you burn your ass jumping through it\nNew York, New York, the big apple\nSiren sounds through the streets\nPutting your mind in a state of mental paralysis\nNew York, New York\nNew York is brogan, boot-shaped state of Madison Avenue\nNegro button downs\nHungry, lost nigga souls screaming downtown for death\nSemi black, obscured blackness, plastic trees and phony grass\nNew York is a state of mind\nThat doesn’t mind fucking up a brother