(Intro) Uh, yeah, yeah, yeah Yeah, yeah, yeah, uh, yo (Verse 1) I’m from where the hammers ring, they damage everything Ni**as get on the stand and everything I’m from where the cops beat you, after they put the cuffs on Where ni**as get naked after they hit them dust joints Where you can get something to eat out of the backyard And all they got is EBTs, no Black Cards Local bars, you can knock off yay The sun be out, but the sky still be charcoal gray-ay Shorty just trying to get his bread back I’m from where they cop the new Jordans after they next pack I’m from where they put forty in it after they head crack I’m from where these b**hes’ll f**k you until the bed crack From where them crackers’ll get you straight Uh-huh, the second-highest conviction rate Real talk, and I’m talking United States They send one informant ni**a to buy the base Indictments, and they ain’t even worth rumbling The DA just lying and your lawyer just mumbling Old head trying to put his numbers in Yeah, my man got twenty six summers in Salute, from where they do a lot of wondering Uh, he’s a boss, it’s a lot of dudes under him Bunch of raw talent here, physically and mentally They’ll never make it cause they slack academically From where they lack identity Violation of the G-code is a penalty Like when the narcs take your keys and mess up your house Handcuff you, find the work while you stressed on the couch New jail, second floor, you the next in the house When they first arrested you, you wasn’t next to your house Couldn’t find the Forty Belows, I’ll take the Girls from the projects, they loved us, couldn’t wait to f**k us I’m from where the s**kers hate, but I hate the s**kers It’s gon take a mean army and some cake to touch us You hear me? Lost Borough, but the heart is won Cough up a lung where I’m from, Yonkers, son Ain’t nothing nice (Chorus – 4X) Cough up a lung where I’m from, Yonkers, son Ain’t nothing nice, there many places, but I’m New York’s own (Outro) So where you from? Yonkers