This is a song about "The new york desperado"

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

Dont fuck with the new guy

I'm touching skies, no puffing lie

Know i had to do a jay dilla joint

Killin' all the way from new york and east detroit,

Past all these glass jaws and assholes that claim

New day new dawn shit every days the same,

Talking ridiculous have mommas getting floral opinions

I travel in a new york minute and keep it movin like pigeons

I grabbed the ak, my homie took the 12 gauge

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

We always get baked, the concept isn't new

He ain't give a fuck about you

They infiltrate our homes, africa

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