- published: 26 Apr 2016
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The Wall Street Journal is an American English-language international daily newspaper. It is published in New York City by Dow Jones & Company, a division of News Corporation, along with the Asian and European editions of the Journal.
The Journal is the largest newspaper in the United States, by circulation. According to the Audit Bureau of Circulations, it has a circulation of 2.1 million copies (including 400,000 online paid subscriptions), as of March 2010, compared to USA Today's 1.8 million. Its main rival, in the business newspaper sector, is the London-based Financial Times, which also publishes several international editions.
The Journal primarily covers American economic and international business topics, and financial news and issues. Its name derives from Wall Street, located in New York City, which is the heart of the financial district; it has been printed continuously since its inception on July 8, 1889, by Charles Dow, Edward Jones, and Charles Bergstresser. The newspaper version has won the Pulitzer Prize thirty-three times, including 2007 prizes for its reporting on backdated stock options and the adverse effects of China's booming economy.
Wall Street refers to the financial district of New York City, named after and centered on the eight-block-long street running from Broadway to South Street on the East River in Lower Manhattan. Over time, the term has become a metonym for the financial markets of the United States as a whole, or signifying New York-based financial interests. It is the home of the New York Stock Exchange, the world's largest stock exchange by market capitalization of its listed companies. Several other major exchanges have or had headquarters in the Wall Street area, including NASDAQ, the New York Mercantile Exchange, the New York Board of Trade, and the former American Stock Exchange. Anchored by Wall Street, New York City is one of the world's principal financial centers.
There are varying accounts about how the Dutch-named "de Waal Straat" got its name. A generally accepted version is that the name of the street name was derived from an earthen wall on the northern boundary of the New Amsterdam settlement, perhaps to protect against English colonial encroachment or incursions by native Americans. A conflicting explanation is that Wall Street was named after Walloons -- possibly a Dutch abbreviation for Walloon being Waal. Among the first settlers that embarked on the ship "Nieu Nederlandt" in 1624 were 30 Walloon families.
The Wall is the eleventh studio album by English progressive rock group Pink Floyd. Released as a double album on 30 November 1979, it was subsequently performed live with elaborate theatrical effects, and adapted into a feature film, Pink Floyd—The Wall.
As with the band's previous three studio albums, The Wall is a concept album and deals largely with themes of abandonment and personal isolation. It was first conceived during the band's 1977 In the Flesh Tour, when bassist and lyricist Roger Waters's frustration with the spectators' perceived boorishness became so acute that he imagined building a wall between the performers and audience. The album is a rock opera that centres on Pink, a character Waters modelled after himself, with some aspects based on the band's original leader, Syd Barrett. Pink's life experiences begin with the loss of his father during the Second World War, and continue with ridicule and abuse from his schoolteachers, an overprotective mother and finally, the breakdown of his marriage. All contribute to his eventual self-imposed isolation from society, represented by a metaphorical wall.
[Intro: Royce talking]
You are now rocking to the sounds of my dawg. DJ Green Lantern
Bar Exam 2 nigga. It's a motherfuckin' holiday bitches
[Verse 1: June the Great]
I slang hope to the world like my name was Obama
Shakin' hands with your father while I'm fuckin' yo momma
Drama
But I'm a say I'm in a league of my own
Blowin' my own horn
Horns of my cousin, Chevy in Texas
I had to shout him out he's from the south
Got pussy with me for my brother when he get out
No doubt
It goes one for the money
Two for the show
Three for the M.I.C. now let's go
June's flow is pro
Turn my speakers up louder
Learn my shit
Then recite it up in the shower
No homo
Yeah, peep my promo on behalf of the Bar Exam 2
This is my message from me to you
They'll probably be happy when I'm long gone
But that'll never happen cause I got way too many songs
MC's take note, but don't quote too much
Find your own style and get 'mo in touch
Plus
Pussy make the world go round and mine spinnin' out of control
Where I'm a stop, nobody knows
You don't want me close to ya
Scared I might roast ya
But if I should stop, then who these streets gonna toast to?
Here's the book of life, I just wrote you a new page
Inspired by the beat, by the smell of my purple haze
Hey, Grand River niggas up to no good
June 1st
I bring you all closer to my hood
[Chorus:]
Wall Street
Wall Street
Yeah, yeah
Uh huh
[Verse 2:]
My appetite for destruction
My type to do the bustin'
I eat the beat up like I got an appetite for percussion
Lighten the mood like it's night and there's moonlight
Platoon, high on them shrooms but this ain't no food fight
Witch
I could fly on a broom stick to my rude type
My crew don't be 'bout no excuses, gesundheit
God bless you, sneeze
I'll wet you, sleeves
Your arms ain't like ours yet, our recipe is...
Beef on a platter
Go on and chatter, it don't matter
My cheese, I'm eatin' like I'm obese but only fatter
I only know how to do it the Harriet Tub way
I'm Underground like the Railroad, I'm prepared to get ugly
My narrative thug day, can only compare me to drugs
I take a nigga way from him like Jared from Subway
You, could, never ever be on my level
You don't know what you're in
But you're in/urine guns like I took a pee on my metal
Just me and my shuttle
We fly
We go together like my feet and my petal
We ride
How could I not be greatest?
When I got Muhammad Ali boxin' inside me in Vegas
Haters
I just wanna say this
I know I'm underrated
But I ain't under paid when it comes to makin'
Money
I'm so hot I feel like the son of Satan
I'm so hot I feel like the sun is hatin'
Your bitch
Hhhhuhhhhuhhhh
Breathin' like a hundred H's
I am the reason for your under takin'
There's only one equation
And it equals I am the sum of greatness
Yeah, yeah