This is a song about "Him being good at math"

Tell him to stop being vulgar,

Girl, what you grabbing cash for

For good at least once in a while

Run for cover and return fire

Aye, hold your head homie, look

No forgive him for your own good

She shift my gears and whispered in my ear

I applaud him, at that time here

Huh, looking at him you wouldn’t think,

I promise to keep it honest

But girl you’re special like i met you in the slow class

You tell me 'one strike,' well, good thing i was never good at math.

I wanted a brother my mother i told her

At the thought of being popular

I ask you what's so good about being a king,

Are you comingto the point that your running