(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**ches’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
