Pedigree

I feel like unsigned hype, in the source 5 mics,

That undersized nigga wit heart, crossing up Mike, Scouts honor, if you took them flights, I just sent my dawg a kite, it won't much, but it stuck, it's nothing like that love , when you down up on ya luck, I lost my pops & gained some extra wings, better scenes, play back in my head, from his pedigree, his son giving em hell, boy, I better be,

I sat the bench, to watch niggas ahead of me, take for granted, I need the mansion, wit the table granite, for the days with no cable channels, & still my Mother made a way, image being 28, ya oldest boy half ya age…

All that Ripping & running, been over wit, I'm on some colder shit, Bean Byrant 60 before I leave, on some closer shit, fans, like Sin, where you been, we need another hook-up, they know I'm Dame, & every verse been a 40 footer, only right, I hit the basement, to get my cook-up, then come out, dirty apron like a deli butcher, ain't like these petty pushers, exaggerating bout no weight, they won't never in the game, just was passing Gatorade