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Life in the city is not pretty
It seems a waste of your time

[Verse 1: Ortiz]
Trojans cause the lifestyles faster
No font on no backwood, Dutchmaster
Fit for handing a on Funkmaster
I come from a wack hood with a Dutch factor
Ten speed in a black hood, a gun clapper
We chop fair ones 'till someone collapsed of lung
Before I lived a lifestyle like "fuck rappers"
A buck trapper up after duck the cut cracker
Tucked up under the tongue, who want a buck of
a smiley face on your cheek, stitch 'em up laughter
I snuffed son 'cause he through with a rough hatter
Came in the store and stepped on my Timbs and made 'em scuff
These niggas ain't 'bout life, bunch of young actors
Play the part when you see me, say "What up Scrapper?"
See you ain't got to me but you will respect me
Everytime you say you the nicest, boy, you me
Jesus I'm a crisis, you a sip of Pepsi
Little buds, little at the tip of a Nestle
I toot my own horn, I'm Dizzy
And I reps my city (YAOWA)

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

2: Joell Ortiz]
One, two, my gritty, extra far from pretty
sloppy pissy and the lobby tipsy
And I keep a Barbie with me good
My niggas can't leave the country, I bring the to the hood
go - my real name my rap shit, I ain't make believe
Same nigga who got this break is still breaking
I'm still playing Cee-Lo and the is cheese
Eight G's I [?] better, feel that breeze?
Product of the gutter, no father, just a
Know you running, but run
you hear 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 they can't so they don't copy
Bitches with they best be yelling "Go Papi"
Y'all niggas got these Freshmen feelin' so
But it's a bunch of yes-men and a nobody
Just cause you write don't mean you rhyme right
You a light-high, jump and become a highlight
Loose of your hind legs and live in hindsight
Cause you niggas aight, but you ain't quite (YAOWA)