This is a song about "Midshipman progress review boards"

10 million off of mixtapes before i drop a single

I cannot progress the feeling is gradual

Clean ya own mess, then cross the bridge as we progress

But i'd just rather 2-step, like my first steps

U aint paid u broke, this boards turnin to a joke/

And i be good til the fat woman sing a note

So ain't no future fuckin' youi ain't tha bitch ta love yacan't do a damn thang for you

For that that strict literary review, but at the end of the day its just something to work through

Every time i walk inside the house, she always tend to start shit

You're progress is non constant, the opposite to my faucet

Sweet, okay makes sense

Still a work in progress.

I send a blast and a gasp through them boards

And the headrest had to have about eight thorns

You're fodder even yet my progress don't stall or

Might as well, mix it up. im a fashion whore