Doesn't really slip out

It's always there, heavy

Like the half-and-half in your cauw-fee

That you got from the deli

You don't realize it's there (I don't at least)

Unless you pay attention to it

Or… if you're not from the city…

If you're not, ain't that sad

We wear our borough like a badge

And the accent is an honor

And it's just a little too loud for the convenience stouh in

The Suburb out in Jersey

Where the cashier stares

What's the matter? Youse never heard a guy from Brooklyn before?

Heard a dialect  cultivated by stickball played off stoops and getting mugged on the train?

Get outta here! With your judgements,

your glares, 

at my dad's Brooklyn accent

As prominent and there

As the oil on the pizza

From the place

Down the block 

(This is the best pizza in the whole friggin city)