New York bound
Here too throw it down
An instinctive lyricist
Like grown from the ground
Born to this town
Drifting the back-streets
Making his rounds
He's planted, Never to leap
N.Y. built his sound
He's back to perfect it
His poetry speaks so loud
& when people step away
- They wont forget it
& they know it's perfect
Because it comes from the pit
- Of his heart, & ticks to a clock
- & a beat, people applaud, stand to their feet
It's astronomical how babies are born knowing his name
Just one Kid from the cement of N.Y. Main.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem