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Life in the is not very pretty
It seems like a of your time

[Verse 1: Joell
cause the lifestyles bust faster
No on no backwood, just Dutchmaster
Fit for handing a on Funkmaster
I don't come from a wack with a Dutch factor
Ten speed in a black hood, that's a gun
We fair ones 'till someone collapsed of lung asthma
this I lived a lifestyle like "fuck rappers"
A buck trapper up after with the cut cracker
up under the tongue, who want a buck half of
That's a smiley on your cheek, stitch 'em up laughter
I snuffed son 'cause he walked through with a hatter
Came in the store and stepped on my Timbs and made 'em scuff
These niggas ain't 'bout that life, bunch of young
Play the part when you see me, say "What up Scrapper?"
See you got to like me but you will respect me
you say you the nicest, boy, you indirect me
Jesus Christ I'm a crisis, you a sip of
buds, little suds at the tip of a Nestle
I my own horn, I'm Dizzy Gillespie
And I reps my correctly (YAOWA)

Life in the city is not very
It like a waste of your time

[Verse 2: Ortiz]
One, two, my project gritty, extra far from
Staircase pissy and the lobby tipsy
And I keep a Barbie with me good
My niggas leave the country, I bring the country to the hood
Let's go - my real name my rap shit, I make believe
Same nigga who got break is still breaking knees
I'm still playing Cee-Lo and the is cheese
G's I [?] better, feel that Vegas breeze?
Product of the gutter, no father, just a
Know you running, but run
When you me say "Word to my mother"
Your boy is extra thorough, ask my
When I'm in Brooklyn go nuts
You squirrels can't buy a referral
These niggas won't cause they can't so they copy
Bitches with they friend be yelling "Go Papi"
Y'all niggas got Freshmen feelin' so cocky
But just a bunch of yes-men and a nobody
Just cause you write rhymes don't mean you right
You a light-high, don't jump and a highlight
Loose sight of your hind legs and in hindsight
Cause you niggas aight, but you ain't quite (YAOWA)