This is a song about "Trapping in class"

My bitches is perfect, i tell 'em boxing for your ass

Doing freestyle battles and writin' rhymes up in math class,

Birkin' baby, go merk 'em baby

Blast tracks in class, em, nas, and jay z

All i wanna do is sit back and watch you move and i'll proceed to throw this cash

You're avoiding my rhymes/ so i'll fill the void in your mind like a school class

A-town, nigga, yeah it's trap city

Non are in the same class as me

The kid couldn't stick in class, the money made him drool

I've seen niggas loose cool, niggas leave school

As well as supper; then i'll rummage through her ruptured cunt

After class in class rooms with a hint of disgust

That passed on, they in heaven, found peace at last

Maybe true, 'til i told this bitch in gym class

And this will be the song that we sing

Then i'll twist round you guys, trapping/