This is a song about "School mates"

The bus pulls up beside the school

Tell mr. hill we ain't trippin, we cool

Because i'm the best writer in school,

Shout outs to them taylors and them jets fool

That was till she chose a school

Gotta lotta stuff, fool

Im rappin the old school cuz the new school was crowded

But you niggas too weak, but just give me 2 weeks and i'm good

Then you look like a fucking fool

And even your friends at school.

Iced out, okay cool

See i learned it in school

Because your booty mad thick behind them juicy ass lips

Chilling with my mates but i dont give a fuck about rotations

My brains the thing that pull it, mates be telling me to cool it

And they say i'm over heads cuz they don't understand... that