New York Soul, Pt. 2 Lyrics - The Human Condition - Jon Bellion

Bring me down in Brooklyn if I lose my life 

Push me down the Hudson and turn on the radio 

Long Island's only smiling 'cause my soul is flying 

I did everything for New York 

New Yorker in California, packed Brooklyn up in this bag 

I'm in Malibu with the Bronx, she's in Kevin love with your man 

Kyrie needed a king, I'm just making you understand 

What I rustle up in the West, 'cause my reach is Kevin Durant 

Records are very pop with a pocket deeper than sand 

A juxtaposition, Sam Cooke, Billy Joel, Steely Dan 

Changing the fucking spectrum, I need you to understand 

Like I took the fall for some drugs, I've been nominated for Grams (It's Grammy's) 

Skinny genius got blueprints up in my hand 

So the minute you hear my single, just know that it's in my plan 

Advantage of demographics, I'm Jigga, Bruno and Sam Smith 

I'm moving business, I'm Taylor Swift in a van 

This game, boy, is very, very advanced 

I'm very, very New York, be very, very aware 

How very, very De Niro I can get on a snare 

Letting go of your throat, I can sing the hook if you scared 

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Bring me down in Brooklyn if I lose my life 

Push me down the Hudson and turn on the radio 

Long Island's only smiling 'cause my soul is flying 

I did everything for New York 

Meet me in the red dress when the stakes side, that's porterhouse 

She's 5 foot 9 in a Rolls Royce, that's Slaughterhouse 

Benny Hahn, Hahn's and a tall boy, we ordered out 

The hell you need a chaser when all this liquor is watered down 

Wait, see all them lines is fuck boy chat 

Don't be so impressed by all that fuck boy rap 

This money gon' leave you empty if you just want that 

See, my joy lies in the son and you should jump on that 

She'll make you think that she the wife and that you found the one 

But she just looking for some powder, not the talcum one 

I'm not judging, here in the middle like I'm Malcolm, son 

Verbal trigger like you should never play around with guns 

Bow down to no crown, these goobers out for the count 

'Cause the Sour Diesel was loud, I was pounding face in the lounge 

Sober dope, moving proud, like allowance found in the crowd 

With a thousand counting me out, but I'm here and killing the crowd now, blow 

Photos 

Bring me down in Brooklyn if I lose my life 

Push me down the Hudson and turn on the radio 

Long Island's only smiling 'cause my soul is flying 

I did everything for New York 

Yo, I'm telling you 

Yo, I'm telling you 

Yo, I'm telling you 

Yo, I'm telling you 

Let me give the kids just a little help 

Tell 'em money is not the key to wealth 

'Cause if it can stop the pain 

How the fuck did you explain the bunch of millionaires that killed themselves? 

So you can take me off your winner's shelf 

I got different vision, I'm bringing help 

I know the demons in the room gon' say it's more that I can chew 

But now all I hear is the dinner bell 

I need a family that loves me right 

Don't need a chain, don't need a club at night 

I had a conversation with an angel 

She told me I'd cheat death if I stayed away from the party life 

Dropped off in the land where the artists play 

Where God's way is the hardest way 

Told myself I'm keeping my faith 

If it costs me my reputation, then take it, I'll give it all away