This is a song about "Good grade"

'fore you love you a nigga, try loving your kids

Lets take it back grade six, when i was feeling the fix,

Listen busters, scarier when i finger fuck her

Arms seller of high grade like a piff dispenser

Tricky as arithmetic was spittin' shit in sixth grade,

Your bitch only like you cause she thinks you getting paid

Wisest to be rappin since mac was in fourth grade.

On these jealous ass coward cuz they evil and fake

I'm a grade a o g

We ain't hear to hurt nobody

Under pressure i don't sweat like my pores shut

Good morning, good raps, good morrow, good luck

It's way too lateand if i got to die young then it's just my fate

Theres nothing wrong with a hit from the blunt and plus its number 1 grade

And truthfully girl you really make my day

Just like this kush grade-a, and matching rolling tray