This is a song about "They told me i wouldnt make it"

Call that bitch rondoi'm fresher than the prom hoteach her, we don't fly coachshe fuckin' but she act dumb

He told me it was nas,i blasted off to the internet to search his debut album

You wouldnt even rap like dat if it wasnt fer me.

And the life i live is hell see, i never thought i'd see

I give him a helpin' hand, bring him out to thugz mansion

I made a call, they told me to check myself in

Told my old lady to make me eggs without warning

She was so stuck, a fool in love with the wrong thing

And you are you too, but bitch i'm three

And my grip told me it was lonely

I bet they think it they soar above me

Now i know a lotta styles, some see

Woodstock though, couple bands on the floor

They ask me what i do it for

And they right, shit i probably won't make it

Aye jay, 8 grand skins gonna take that