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About New York City

Little fact – back in the ‘60s, Times Square was crawlin’ with ‘em. Hookers everywhere – like pigeons, but sexier. True story – cops called it “The Meat Rack.” Grim, right? Anyway – I roll up. Window down. Heart’s poundin’ – am I nuts? She leans in. Smells like cheap perfume and regret. “Hey, sugar,” she says – voice like gravel. I’m thinkin’, “This ain’t no mitzvah!” – straight outta the film. Laughed in my head – dark humor, y’know?

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So if you roll through West-Gate, wander those streets, let the vibes seep in like data in code. Every corner, every flaw, sings a verse of our urban poetry. Yo, West-Gate is a mixtape of passion – raw and relentless.

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