This is a song about "Playing tag in the 5th grade"

And save your shitty freestyle rhymes for a kid in the 5th grade

That'd be the day his label treat him like a signal fade

So if he die, and came back, would he try to save rap

The only name you'll need is on your toe tag

Ok, you probably think i get ‘em all with the cash flow

His daughter pops up, it's him n her playing in the snow

Uhh, can it be fatethat makes a sick muthafucka break

Been trying to rap since i was in the 6th grade with the young fade

Playing in the corn, wake up call

The board ceo, i'm glad you all

Cause you can't even rap in the fourth grade band

Cause even thugs get lonely, understand

In the seventh grade, classmates considered me gay, what?

What yall niggas know about it, my kick game is world cup

Cause you can't even rap in the fourth grade band

I got weed, hash; when i breeze past, breathe fast