After class in class rooms with a hint of disgust
Anti-violent...stylin, lyrically inclined and
First out the gate last back to class,
Bring your pen and your weed stash
I'm just fucking round in class
So much class, double d’s and ass
And when my eyes looking like a nigga tired
Your hair in a french braid you can make it work
Once the police get to cuffing, bet his homie deceive him
Fuck what i say lets shoot this bitch up like it's the french revolution!/
I was watching, remote pleaseniggas want what they can't have
The white working class is the majority, the upper class,
Je suis la garçon qui cracher flamme, french, i just cannot
Everything is good but these haters wish i would stop
But anyway, give me cash fag, cause i'm low on gas
Your fuckin’ neighborhood doesn’t determine your social class,
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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