This is a song about "Health class"

My rhymes are biddable, physical, clinical to your health even critical

Hustlin in our hoods , slanging nothing but the goods / street to street you will

Poor, working-class enclaves who can't afford health care,

Whole lot of haters wanna fight i swear

Thick lips and a sick class

So much class, double d’s and ass

So while she up in vip pourin' merlot in the glass

The white working class is the majority, the upper class,

Say a prayer and hope that the poor can find health care,

Gotcha lips baby while i pull your hair

My health is in danger

That don’t mean i’ma stunt her

I'm the c.e.o. of diplomat records, i sign myself

But intsead of doing what helps- n' in turn losing my health

That's real, never been the kind for some mental health

So, just tell me something about yourself