This is a song about "Class of misfits"

Niggas hating but i love them even though they trying to scheme

Most of america is not middle class or stacking the green,

Instead of being in class

Baby, you got that super bass

In a class of my own, you undergraduate material

Trickin’ shit for kids and you know i dont need no cereal

Because i sit in the back of the class ill meet you in detention

So i can write about my life of sina couple bottles of gin

Went out and had a church of kids

That ever witnessed the timid misfits

Branded a son of middle-class folk,

Motivated just from being broke

And throw up the diamond sign, boy you know i'mma shine

Sippin on that high class bottle of that fine red wine

You're passed to the back of the class for your flatulent gases

And if she have it, she gon' change her blackberry status