This is a song about "New york rap"

I first new i could rap, knew i was good at it

Corvette so clean you'll think bruce springsteen rid that

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

Enough fucking atheist rappers to get a nun slapped

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

Box logo on my muthafuckin' chest

My momma a og which makes me a don dada

Distribution, new york, to chicago, l.a.

And now i walk around without a care

King of new york, yo i'm already there

We fight with these rings with the intention to ever last

Fuck no hell no this new generation of rap enthusiasts

New york rules, can't tell me nothin' in the game,

Forgetting the seasonslames not in my lane