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About New York City

Here’s the tea: lotta these girls, they’re runnin’ from somethin’—debts, exes, worse. Red? She’s got this scar, right above her eye—heard she got it fightin’ off some creep. Makes me happy she’s tough, but sad too, ya know? World’s messed up. I’m yellin’ in my head, “Drake, don’t get soft now!” So I ask her, “Yo, who’s your pimp?” She laughs—straight up cackles—and says, “Ain’t nobody own me, suit.” Savage. I’m shook, fam.

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Strolling down Main St. is a hoot. It's crammed with cafes and little shops, real quirky joints. There's that one dive on Red Rock Alley – my fave hangout for a quick coffee and eavesdropping on love confessions. I gotta say, it feels like a scene from Inside Llewyn Davis – "I woke up this mornin'" kinda vibe, ya dig?

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