After class in class rooms with a hint of disgust
And you wonder why niggas keep the gun tucked
Just put your hand on the glass
Instead of being in class
I'll touch slap her, dap her, plus clap her
And listen to the class professor/
And the government helps the rich, turns back on the lower class,
You fucking dead bitch chips, i'm on my fifth bag with your bitch ass
All this paper i fold
Skipping class and growing cold
The white working class is the majority, the upper class,
So while she up in vip pourin' merlot in the glass
Maybe true, 'til i told this bitch in gym class
I will fucking beat your ass, box logos through the glass
Except she's got a little more ass
First out the gate last back to class,
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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