This is a song about "Living in amsterdam new york"

My ass funky like a cab driver in new york city, pass the class,

You fucking dead bitch chips, i'm on my fifth bag with your bitch ass

I was taught to act my shoe size, never my age

If i'll be a king of new-york i wouldn't change

Ethnic whites in new york city, tight-knit, keep close,

Best believe i'm leaving with more of those

King of new york, yo i'm already there

And them which is more of a circus than a fair

We fight with these rings with the intention to ever last

My rhymes, new york states of minds, lyrical crimes, in fact

Now, nigga, it’s the prince

Living in the matrix

Puttin all those cali and new york jobs on my wishlist,

So the right to have these women, i'm entitled to their interest