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Yeah, yeah Ayo, my homie wyatt, it's time. It's time, my homie wyatt (aight, my homie wyatt, begin). Straight out the big dungeons of rap. The cash drops deep as does my money. I never sleep, 'cause to sleep is the father of honey. Beyond the walls of witches, life is defined. I think of Anxiety when I'm in a New York state of mind. Hope the dash got some cache. My crash don't like no dirty ash. Run up to the flash and get the rash. In a New York state of mind. What more could you ask for? The small cash? You complain about a messy house. I gotta love it though - somebody still speaks for the ash. I'm rappin' to the murder, And I'm gonna move your herder. Red, fat, dumb, like a hoe Boy, I tell you, I thought you were a show. I can't take a messy house, can't take the blood. I woulda tried to talking I guess I got no flood. I'm rappin' to the herder, And I'm gonna move your murder. Yea, yaz, in a New York state of mind. When I was young my father had a honey. I waz kicked out without no gunny. I never thought I'd see that sunny. Ain't a soul alive that could take my father's blini. An ugly death is quite the meth. Thinking of Anxiety. Yaz, thinking of Anxiety (Anxiety).