This is a song about "Missing school on saturday"

Man saturday mornings was the best

Deliver the bomb shit from the east to west

She ain't trippin off nuttin’ nobody else say

If i bomb on saturday you know she flea by sunday

I'm missing out, on making some of that dough.

Yo, i'm seventeen, already sniffing blow

I can see it clear as summer sun on a saturday

If you try to hang with me you should finally truly see

Ill be missing on the dawn

Look, by the end of this song

My money for folarin, but you do not get to throw

I'm missing out on making everybody scream "whoa!"

Aiyo, this is rain shady on the beat bitch. we bout to do it vintage old school

To find the room where mama was hung, her pajamas undone on the working stool

Dumping dead bodies on the school playground i don't give a shit

Listen, i'm fishing, you bitch niggas is missing i got that