This goes out to the so-called king of New York
This the home of legends, Lamar, so watch what you talk
You coming up short thinking you the boss, you must be off it
You don't want the war to send you running like a faucet
Be cautious, this history is worth more than a hit, boy
No matter how much good music you drop
You can't knock the legacy of B.I.G.'s, J-A-Y's
And leaving out the new gods, that ain't wise
You ain't king, at best you a duke
Young and poppin'
But Jay old enough to be your pop and moving more units than you
Talking about how you the king of this state, that's time wasted
You kicked harder lines on the Miguel collaborations
You was doing good up until now, Kenny
Started false claiming, I feel the wrath of my city
You pompous, trying to take two sides of the compass
Astro king to put an end to all this nonsense
This ain't friends, and I see you trying to run the kid home
Better chill with that Napoleon syndrome
Let's battle, it's nothing, you weak, I feel like you're bluffing
You the king? Oh my bad, boy, I feel like you puffin'
You ain't balling hard enough to mention Phil Jackson name
I play like D'Antoni and get Lamar up out the game
You owe them legends you dissing, but let's speak some real talk
I can see why you was reaching for the throne in New York
Ain't nobody repping right, they scared, all talk
So I don't curse much, but fuck all you fake New Yorkers
Y'all suckers like newborns kissing Kendrick's ass
''Nobody better than him, you #trash''
It's good kid mad city, not my city
Enter my city it's animosity possibly
The end of your wind so give me your ends
Where the game started, remember what state you in
New York