The Warriors is always fun to watch and to imagine how your typical hipster wouldn’t last 24 hours back then in New York. But now these entitled pubic bearded, pasty, kazoo-voiced interlopers prance around like nothing in “their” city. Here is the ending of The Warriors filmed on the beach of Coney Island. I wish there was a re-make made where Colby, Zach, Harrison, Caleb, Conrad, and Quaid get lured to Canarsie and then have to make it back to their parentally-paid-for sweeeeeet loft in Bushwick but end up getting beaten.
Some will say we’re homogenizing
Ouch, my balls; these jeans are tight
I just learned how to knit a sweater
No work on Monday, let’s party all night
It’s survival thanks to Mommy
Then you can live to play all day
Brooklyn streets can be so pretty
When we move in and push the natives away
In my new city, like, yaaaaaah.
In my new city, oh yaaaaaaah
I wasn’t born here in this city
I’m from a state with a lot of malls
My beard grows, I’m so urban and gritty
Until I catch a beating when night falls
I came from out on that horizon
To gentrify the Brooklyn sky
I know if Mommy keeps on paying
Then I can stay for another night
In my new city, like, yahhhh
In my new city