This is a song about "Toronto the city of the cold"

In the city of angels no one is safe

Prps cover my eight’s, uhh, lemme switch my pace

More fights occurring here then the streets of cold ukraine

Baby, ain't saying names but we not the same

She dealing with killa so you love her taste

On the lord to visit the city of the saint

I can't correlate the weight of being served on a cold plate,

Drink a fifth of hennessy and then take another fade

Is a space that now you hold

Hand to hand in the cold

And she throws up whatever she eats

Flow is cold from the city streets

They chase you a like mouse in the city of the bronx.

Make their feets get wet and funky up in they under arms