[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!