This is a song about "Dormitory"

My d & p frizest, they haven't seen the streets yet

And your inner mother board has not been set

Argue with twitter niggas who insignificant

Im my own president while a home resident

In a hall i, hear groans and whispers muttering things more obscure,

I grew up with nothin, it hurt me to see my mother poor

Still living as a resident

Is he illiterate, literal syndicate

But i'm just in my room, dreaming and wishing

I see the devil grinning, as if he winning

25 with an ltime to prepare to do fed time

And as i lay one board at a time rooted in rhyme.

There's still room to progress,

Stop it, i'm hearin' the comments

Write it in my leisure, i rather go shopping

Fame hall inhabitant spray the tec wrist throbbing