This is a song about "The grade 12s losin"

Don't give nobody no coochie while i be locked up state

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

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

My ambition is wicked i put that shit on my hand

Then bring your big bad ass to california, cause we ain't hard to find

Whoa, gettin high all the time isn't right, i'm losin my sight and my mind

But when it comes down to winnin' or losin'

Nah, niggas they dont wanna let me win

I'm a grade a o g

Cause all i want is you, baby

You start challenging me you end up losin (sing)

Not concerned with most rappers me i'm a king

I smoke the greenest of medicine till the government let us win

Even though the sky is turning green,i hate losin' n i hate crying in

And a fist full of money give it to a fifth grade

You gotta pay homage in order to get paid