| I killed it with The Realness now I’m bringin' new life
|
| Prestige is an illusion people tend to lose sight
|
| I will always be Corey, youngest child of Dorothy
|
| My brown eyes mirrors the pure ferocity
|
| I slung the E, held my first heat with curiousity
|
| Slept with it, rep with it, streets empower me
|
| I came from curses, cuffs, and suede Pumas
|
| To painting slums as visual as James Evans, Jr
|
| I became a criminal when few though I wasn’t
|
| My shot wounds, my birthmarks a thug injustice
|
| Aim with the yanks
|
| The quarters not working I question my purpose in life
|
| It must be to write, son I’m very determined
|
| A child of the ghetto like a very young Sherman
|
| Bread not moldin, the chosen upholding
|
| Unwritten laws of those behind walls closed in, picture me rollin
|
| But don’t look at me differently on the strengh that I’m holdin
|
| This is Mega you never heard my chain got stolen
|
| I pitch like Randy Johnson
|
| Dudes needed work I assist like Magic Johnson
|
| Before rap my name was ringing in the projects
|
| We took the block and props of every gram cooked
|
| The rap game +A Change Gon' Come+ like Sam Cooke
|
| And Big didn’t give the crown up and this means
|
| His unwilling departure still makes him king
|
| Cor-mega, will forever still born in Bedstuy, never ran never will
|
| My life is very real a tribeam couldn’t measure my skill
|
| Or True Meaning who wanna bring it, I’m right here… |