This is a song about "The new york jets"

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

Real enough to admit i listen to people's opinions

I can do that to a nigga and make a pool on her

Got bitches in new york california and decatur

You niggas under cars you should be unemployed

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

That's why they kick with homies, what? back in new york,

Dad wasn't around -- my father figure was too short

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

Rap giant, get your little locality smashed

Everybody coming home deserve a white benz

Time keeps flying and we dreamin' of private jets,

Half your body laying on my chest

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