This is a song about "New york mets"

He ain't give a fuck about you

I want to make the world new

Got bitches in new york california and decatur

Baby mothers quittin school, nigga now it's up to her

New york runs the rap game, can't tell the best?

I confessed bein' atheist, they said i was possessed

I cut my wrist and play piano cause i'm so depressed

And new york to this very day has got the best,

New targets when i see new faces

Don't you lie, don't blow my buzz

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

With a little bit of passion

New passions, enemies new fashion