This is a song about "Bronx"

They chase you a like mouse in the city of the bronx.

You know how jay-z said he wasn't going for the charts

I got nice hands, niggas eat out my big palms

Fucking slapstick emcees from your home to bronx

To jamaicans in the bronx, hope for heavenly gates,

Bitch, i ball, ho, you lame, look at my laneys, switchin’ lanes

And bronx or we may end up like phantasmagoria

I ain't gotta tell you they know about me, huh

Your body's saying things i ain't never heard

Hip-hop started off in the bronx, it’d replay through work,