This is a song about "11th grade"

Arms seller of high grade like a piff dispenser

And any chick you can screw i can get wetter

Theres nothing wrong with a hit from the blunt and plus its number 1 grade

Hey lil momma, what's your name, i'm wale but they call me great

A grade could be reduced, just take em as bad jokes.

If we ain't right and always at the throats

Tricky as arithmetic was spittin' shit in sixth grade,

Kill you, shoot the funeral up and harlem shake at your wake

But times i'm so serious you think i'm silly

You mothers still in grade school i got a degree

You're in the presence of a player, i'd rather be ya nigga

But don't let rappad lie with a falsely given grade a,

She was a les 'til i went ahead and screwed her straight

And a fist full of money give it to a fifth grade

Had to teach the bitch manners, now i gotta learn her

And if you think your grade is a its the wrong answer