This is a song about "Forth grade"

And a fist full of money give it to a fifth grade

She was a les 'til i went ahead and screwed her straight

Still rapping like i'm in 2nd grade

If i should die before i wake

Pacing back and forth mind racing like a track horse

I'm rolling a cigar, bob marley would endorse

On my pg shit, i ain't finna keep them

Back and forth, and then back again

No days off is time gone, trying to get my paper straight

You're raging an got some grammar issues go back to first grade

Homie popped up with about twenty bags and

An let forth with endless harassment,

I don't care about your grade,

J. cole runnin' late