This is a song about "Its not even an online class"

And even when i'm swinging you know i've got more class,

I welcome with my handsand the red sun sinks at last

Hit the club and i let it fly, claim you balling nigga telling lies

This is me trying to play nice, and even now its not enough to suffice,

I always felt even though we were barely middle class,

You fucking dead bitch chips, i'm on my fifth bag with your bitch ass

I ain't even really need that shop class

'09 gold diggers, walkin with a different path

Hold up bitch its not an audition

So if it comes down, may the best man win

Im not even stable to stand up without an enemy

At the same damn time, got these bitches poppin' monkey

Not even metaphorical

I'm fried from this ripple

Flenglan vesofen don't mean anything/ it's not even an identity/

Particularly, these bitches that's inner ugly and outer pretty