"NYC Rap©"
Lyrics by M.S. McKenzie | Performed by American Storyteller Music & is Protected by Copyright
~ Associated State Links ~
State of NY Home Page | State of NY Gallery Page
Original Song Lyrics: Written by M. S. McKenzie, All Rights Reserved
"NYC Rap"
[Intro]
Taxi lights blink time in a rain‑slick lane,
Steel tracks hum and they spell my name.
Boom‑bap heartbeat under midnight sky,
Six‑strings snarl while the pigeons fly.
I cut through steam with a borough‑born swagger,
Home is a hustle—native New Yorker, no stagger.
[Verse 1: Manhattan]
Times Square glare paints chrome on my jaw,
High Line breeze where the freight ghosts saw.
Central Park lungs put air in my chest,
LES basements shake dust from the rest.
SoHo glass drips neon and nerve,
Harlem brass bends notes that curve.
I ride the grid like a riff I wrote,
Skyscrape choir puts gold in my throat.
[Chorus]
I’m a native New Yorker, pulse on the two and four,
Hip‑hop backbone with an R&B core.
Rock‑edge truth with a Pop‑light shine,
Four‑borough rhythm in a straight skyline.
From block‑party sparks to a rooftop roar,
I’m stitched to the city, I’m asking for more.
Native New Yorker—bet that on the beat,
This town in my sneakers, these miles on my feet.
[Verse 2: Brooklyn]
Bridge cables hum like a low‑tuned string,
DUMBO bricks echo everything I bring.
Bed‑Stuy stoops trade stories and heat,
Coney salt keeps the snare off‑beat.
Barclays thunder when the hook lands clean,
Flatbush pepper pots season the scene.
Bushwick murals spit color and chrome,
Williamsburg vinyl spins “you’re home.”
[Verse 3: Queens]
Seven line violet, horizon in view,
Jackson Heights spices cut bold and true.
Astoria taverns sing old‑world hooks,
Flushing night markets rewrite the books.
LIC glass splits sunsets in two,
Rockaway breakers keep time for the crew.
Queensboro strings draw silver lines,
I count my blessings between those signs.
[Bridge: Halftime feel, wider world colors]
Rain taps time on a rusted gate,
Bills stack high but so does fate.
We bend, don’t break; we shape, we learn,
Turn cold to fire, watch corners burn.
Tabla whispers, oud replies,
Erhu sighs where the skyline lies.
I breathe this mix and the mix breathes back—
Cut the lights, feel the track.
[Verse 4: Bronx]
Blueprint borough where the first spark lit,
Grand Concourse stride with a brass‑band grit.
Yankee lights blaze on a shout‑back night,
Orchard Beach laughter keeps tempo light.
Fordham rush sings a rush‑hour key,
City Island hush hums over the sea.
Pelham Bay breeze on a hustler’s sleeve,
If you know this rhythm, you’ll never leave.
[Chorus]
I’m a native New Yorker, pulse on the two and four,
Hip‑hop backbone with an R&B core.
Rock‑edge truth with a Pop‑light shine,
Four‑borough rhythm in a straight skyline.
From block‑party sparks to a rooftop roar,
I’m stitched to the city, I’m asking for more.
Native New Yorker—bet that on the beat,
This town in my sneakers, these miles on my feet.
[Outro]
Last slice steam, ferry horn low,
Turnstile ticks where the night trains go.
Streetlamp chorus, river in tune—
City says “now,” so I answer “soon.”
Fade on the hum of a midnight track—
Native New Yorker, I’ll always come back.
Song Description
