This is a song about "Communication policy exam"

Must be something you want me to see

Pussy, money weed is the current policy

It's all too black for me to blame it on the man

You test me and i'm goin' harder than a math exam,

I believe mcing is the best way of communication,

Stab him, put a arch on it, pour unleaded gas on him

And rhyme like carlcee. i tell about my service like its my own fuckin policy.

That's gon' make it hard to smile in the futurebut through whatever you see

But no apologies that's my mother fucking policy

Two kids, wide hips, found something in her we didn't see

That's why you cautious when i approached youbeen talking since you arrived, but not a word is spoken

Just earlier i took the essay part of exam, in it is the given prompt, it was a well written poem

For some reason our communication blew

I'm trying to let the force be with you, i get you

Harvard we take the exam/

Pushing in my mama van