This is a song about "Ar tests"

And when the game tests you a true writer plays

Cause all you got now is too much room space, shoe space

Apparentally it make you argue morethe more things you throw

The, the, the, is the acta-cle in my ar-se-nal i start that flow

Why'd you slang crack? cause i had toa nigga gotta pay the fuckin rent

Put on a act like i'm possessed, do the fucking tests and the rest.

The teacher begins passing out the tests

Stop it, i'm hearin' the comments

If you ever see me? i'mma be clappin'; the ar!

We can count the stars on the hood in your father's car

If i ever see you, i'mma be clappin'; the ar!

When i step up out the maserati car

Average ain't up to par, you can't spar, lyrics are an ar

Wreck these thangs, have em looking like halle berry's car