This is a song about "8th grade math concepts"

I don't care about your grade,

Low income no bills getting paid

Be patient,decodin rappers like math equations

And i don't do colorful jeans or shiny kicks

Keep doing this kinda shit, youll see what happens next, after math.

You fucking dead bitch chips, i'm on my fifth bag with your bitch ass

I am a storm so do the math.

Just put your hand on the glass

I treat bitches straight up, like simon says

I was formulating concepts

Pass that, catch back, fast that

The after math arithmetic,

Just got another henry the 8th while it's weighing great,

That'd be the day his label treat him like a signal fade

And my wrist froze, but i’m cool sha’, like a bald head, i’m too paid

Tricky as arithmetic was spittin' shit in sixth grade,