Tricky as arithmetic was spittin' shit in sixth grade,
Success is what i work for, and when them dudes hate
Arms seller of high grade like a piff dispenser
Hundred running they ain't finna slow down never
F a m e, i learnt that in 2nd grade,
On tours, we straight making sure lawyer fees paid
I don't care about your grade,
J. cole runnin' late
But i do quite well with all the bait
Still rapping like i'm in 2nd grade
I'm wolf, tyler put this fucking knife in my hand
Cause you can't even rap in the fourth grade band
In the seventh grade, classmates considered me gay, what?
Are they gon' pay us and will they make it rain? yup
Of better days when you ain't have to settle for whatever played
I've been doing this shit so fine since i rhymed up in sixth grade,
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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