That's why he's sitting all alone in the class
It got to be a lot of shit in your ass
You fucking dead bitch chips, i'm on my fifth bag with your bitch ass
My ass funky like a cab driver in new york city, pass the class,
Maybe true, 'til i told this bitch in gym class
Goddamn your ex-man is a dumb ass
All that is better than sitting in class listening to a lecture
I could give a fuck as long as there’s something that’s behind of her
But anyway, give me cash fag, cause i'm low on gas
Doing freestyle battles and writin' rhymes up in math class,
That makes threemy laywers getting cash up the ass
In the midst of class, as i ash the blunt and pass
We ain't poor, ain't middle class, we're in the shade of grey,
I would probably kill myself if you told me you was gay
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