This is a song about "Class"

I been smokin' that mary jane way after class(way after class)

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

You be chickens like smokey tripping off angel dust

After class in class rooms with a hint of disgust

A wise nigga told me don’t chase that cash

Maybe true, 'til i told this bitch in gym class

Uzi pop, you news and choppers

Now you're class partners for starters,

The white working class is the majority, the upper class,

We fight with these rings with the intention to ever last

I walk down the hallway to my class

You can't be wiping your ass

First out the gate last back to class,

Lights will flash, cars will crash

Your beautiful during class

Your life is a product of trash