It’s whatever with whoever
Always whatever with whoever
That’s how I’m on it all day, every day
That’s how I’m on it all day, every day
We can do a whatever whenever
We can do a whatever whenever
That’s how I’m on it all day, every day
That’s how I’m on it all day, every day

[Verse 1: Uncle Murda]
I got my city feeling like it’s '95
Feeling good, like in before Biggie died
On Twitter Nas wrote I give him a Biggie vibe
I retweeted that shit like 50 times
I see rappers trying to get their buzz back
Beef with DJs like
"Damn where the love at?"
The DJ like "Homie where the hits at?"
That shit you sent me was whack
I can’t spin that
Instead of making better music
N***as get offended
Then jump on a south beat
Cause the south winning
Then they get mad when they don't pop, yo
Like "That shit would’ve worked if I was Rocko"
Or "That shit would’ve worked if I was 2Chainz"
It would've, but you're not Rocko or 2Chainz
You a New York n***a homie
That’s that
Now let’s get back to that boom bap
[Hook]
New York City
This the way that we rock
Let’s get back on our shit
New York City
This the way that we rock
Let’s get back on our shit
Uh-La la la la la la la la la la
Uh-La la la la la la la la la la
New York

[Verse 2: Uncle Murda]
Ain’t no place like home
But the radio got me thinking
I’m in the A
But when I go to the A
It feel like I’m in the A
New York n***as don’t be getting no radio play
Somebody saying "What the fuck did that n***a just say?"
Only New York n***a they play outta town is Jay
That be sounding like that real New York City
All that same old bounce shit
Be making me nauseous
New York, I don’t know when it happened
But we went from setting the trends
To copy catting
It’s like we losing our identity
I hope n***as is feeding off of my energy
We need a new DMX
Not a new Waka Flocka
I’m talking that shit like
When B.I.G dropped Who Shot Ya
I’m starting some shit like when B.I.G dropped Who Shot Ya
If you decide to live
Don’t tell police who shot ya
[Verse 3: Waka Flocka]
I'm from Q U E E N S
Where n***as chasing cheese
Cakes like eating this
My n***as ain’t playing games
This ain’t recess
Wet T-Shirt contest
Leave your T wet
For that Jesus piece hanging off your neck
Life ended, game over
Ain’t no reset
Youngins color blind over here
Throw up the wrong set
Drop a bomb like I’m Funk Flex
I’m connected out in Brooklyn like the Nets
Head back then got now
Fuck next
Out in the Bronx cause we souse rendezvous
Manhattan condo with the ocean view
Smoking Malibu Kush, clean Dutch
Better Kick Push when I up the 40
Back to Queens catch me in ?
On west side ? got the towers
Death to the cowards
And your bitch pussy
Ran through that whole god mileage
[Hook]

[Verse 4: Vado]
A while back met some wild cat
Fly cat, you know I didn't supply that
I’m from where kids get no parenting
Gun get you 3 to 5, and they still carrying
Keep the nine same bag Dirty Harry in
Suede Belt, slim corduroys
Leather jacket them
Used to rob base, that was easy rock
Cooked it up then hand the plate to a greedy block
Back when Ma$e was the face on your TV box
Harlem World Diplomats was the team to watch
This young MC really lived this
Had EPMD, strictly business
? was doing biz then
Kept Nikes on
And a fitted gripping the biscuits
But it's whatever when whatever
New York City get busy when we're together

[Hook]