This is a song about "Degree maps"

The furnace be permanently burning g's to the 3rd degree

Go and ask fenty, hating ass nigga, sweeter than a simply

Leave you lost in this jungle giving none of you maps

87, brick fare, yeah, i’m talking thirty racks

The game ain't pretty but i'm reppin' for my city

Yo you know my flow is so much colder like it's one degree

She tried to flee, to a certain degree

You just servin yourself, go pull up to pump three

And all women who had light features, see

Get off rap pad and get a degree

Surrounded by the irony of living in the city

This anxiety is burning me to the thousandth degree,

Hopin' that my niggas see

My game cold, one degree

Fucking chin-checkin' punks 'til he's outta breath and done

Makin' people freak out like the maps are mayan.