This is a song about "Final exams"

Got pills all on my phone, these niggas know i’m wrong

So this to you, i present, is my final song.

And all we lack is communication like service sucks

Final disputes for the title but i got no rivals/

I'm tryna feel the vibe of mona lisa, studying art

I've got your final symphony planned out, in tune with a harp

Got a pocket full of cream, my moccasin's clean

All exams deemed finish so i'll go see my team,

But anyway, give me cash fag, cause i'm low on gas

And roars at hearth, the final farce, has come to pass/

Ambitious like a politician with a final wish

The battery packs and any bitch you ever kiss

I'll bring the heat on these exams like i'm making some toast,

Climbing up the pole, jack and the beanstalk, bitch it's gold

Cuts ur vital parts and sparks the final shots,

I'm from a cocaine block, with some plain clothes cops