[Verse: Joell Ortiz]
Let the yaowa get a lil bit, not a lungy, just a lil spit
You don't want it doggy, old Kibble b**h!
New York n***a 'til my ligaments is sittin' 6 feet
Under the pavement I was runnin' from how I did this sh**!
YUGH! I'm so nasty it's disgusting
Broads dashin' to my car so a Kardashian is nothing...
Ha, I get a kick out of kickin' the truth
Kick rocks, these shoes get kicked off when I get in this booth
YUGH! Man I could play when I get up
You Kevin Hart'n it, "The way I got my bank account set up..."
Don't need a fancy stylist to come lace my outfit up
Clean T, rough jeans and my J's peek out the cuffs
YUGH! I got my city on my fitty
The new era's doin' snaps I'm still fifty nine fitty
Might look alone but I carry some'n with me that'll
Throw shots, like Mariah Carey did with Nicki...
YUGH! When I was young I couldn't ball at all
Now these models never leave me hangin' they lick balls and all...
Yeah that's a 10-4 copy
Wayne, 2 big Chainz and one big -- Papi!