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

Not knowin' southern whites are lower class, my fuckin' life,

Also, this mothafucka got a nine to five

She said she want it now, well girl it's hammer time

These nigguhs is not who they is online

In a turtle neck, thermal jeans, spit purple wine

Or not u're exclusde from the party online

Me and my nigga wale let them suckas pass

I ain't even really need that shop class

My talent should take me places i've never been

Hold up bitch its not an audition

Not knowin' southern whites are lower class, my fuckin' life,

Feed niggas shells like my motherfucking beach is nice

I'm love stoned from everywhere and she knows

"you were malcolm, its not even close"

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