Written by: Woodrow Lucas

Yo, Hoboken Bars and a couple cat fights,
Yo, takin’ the path to the Palledium and Limelight,  
Giants games,
Getting drunk and goin’ insane,
Never stressin, just professin’, Wu Tang Lyrics and a little Smith and Wessin’,
Yo, I hung Irish, Italian, Black, and Puerto Rican,
Weekend trips to Spanish Harlem, girl watchin’ and sight seein’,
Visitin’ fam in Flat Bush Brooklyn, and a quick stop to the Bronx,
Playin’ a little b-ball back when I had less junk in my trunks,
Liftin’ at the Y, and hangin’ tough in Parsippany,
Are you hangin’ with me?
Shot out to the Randolph Crew,
Hangin’ with Asians and Jewish cats too,
With dreds on my head, ladies sweatin’ the phat do,
Winnin’ state championships and duckin’ bauer Junia,
Sportin’ my Miata with shiny Rims, and a boomin’ tuner, 
Rollin’ through Montclair and scopin’ females on the upswing,
Showin’ off my letters and  #1 rings,
Though I’ve lived all over, I still claim Randolph and Dover,
I still claim, West Orange, Lauren Hill, and Fushiknins never sober,
Jersey, baby Jersey, there is no other,
With Red Alert on the horn kickin’ the overweight lova,
And yeah, we kind of dirty,
True dat,
 I’ll grant you that,
But there is none like Jersey,
The Garden lounge of adventure,
And when you visit the homestead,
Just tell em Woody sent ya,
So shot out to the Jersey Crew, 
It’s been a while, 
Lost my style, 
And my pants are a little bigga,
But yo, it don’t matter, cause Jersey yeah I miss ya!!