This is a song about "Grade school"

I've been doing this shit so fine since i rhymed up in sixth grade,

And my wrist froze, but i’m cool sha’, like a bald head, i’m too paid

And if you think your grade is a its the wrong answer

I get it crackin' like the lips of a nigger, actor

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

But his deferred, and blurred and changed in shapeit's fate, it wasn't my choice to make

I don't care about your grade,

They say them colors must be fake

I did ever thing to make them grade this, an a plus

Pay him some attention, he's smart and he's genius

But she sure can get you high if the coke let her

I never liked my fifth grade teacher neither!

Tricky as arithmetic was spittin' shit in sixth grade,

Don't give nobody no coochie while i be locked up state