This is a song about "Degree"

Lock my heart up, this is jail, throw away the key

And they can't get a job, 'cause they missing the degree

Fuck what they selling, it's reality living in the mirror

Iller than hundred n eight degree fever ripping emcees liver

If we thinking success is only measured by your money

Burn rappers with a third degree... never agreed with the industry

Who trill as me, roll two of tree

My game cold, one degree

Especially one to that degree of savagery.

Due to my underselling no i did not get that bentley

Luckily i'm a master of dispatchin', got a "send them to the pound" degree

That's gon' make it hard to smile in the futurebut through whatever you see

Fuck it bouta hit em' with the third degree

But if you took a second mr. mirror, you would see

Surrounded by the irony of living in the city

Who can only stand new hip-hop to a tolerable degree