This is a song about "Create a class"

As a teen was middle class, a bitter ass who pissed away,

But put it in slow-mo, i don't want to bust the tape yet, press play

I cut class, said i was a faker

The only time i flirt with her

Thick lips and a sick class

And when it come to the cash

I can create a new way for your brain to think and operate

And there's only so much someone can swallow and tolerate

Ill get out of here i just gotta create a ladder

So for this time being, i hope this open scribe might support her

Righteously living, i know all my verses be cold

But the media, fuck it, 'cuz it's a lower class household,

So while she up in vip pourin' merlot in the glass

We've all got questions to ask, lessons to learn outside a class

My ass funky like a cab driver in new york city, pass the class,

Damn near look like a god damn dump truck on the back of your ass