This is a song about "Letter to mr dean college"

Ball dreams of being pointguard was off limits jack

That's word to mr. sweatshirt let me get back

I'll tell you true stories, how i coldly hold heat

Got a letter from the doctor saying to meet.

Put it on everything, history i'mma make

A letter to his mother tells of his fatal mistake

Once mr. woods was all good, now a nigga only

I'm in college now got the professors to mob with me

And maybe one day his kids, something that he'll live for

R.i.p to the victims reach out and take my loving letter,

To the old times when happiness was a dean

Okay, so play d, know what i mean

Fresh to death, swallow bleach, wine glass of mr. clean

I guess these major deals ain't all they seem

We don't need y'all, the fader's who we really fucking with, bitch

Maybe it's because i probably won't go to college,