This is a song about "Writing classes"

Oh yeah we're old as fuck, we didn't have our glasses

As innocent youth, we stressed bout passin classes/

Writing recording hunched over crouching

Yeah my shit ain't no scratch and win

Writing relentless on sheets

Tryna kill my dreams

I ain't used to it, she got that hot love

Mabye we'll school with some classes

We got stripes in my city, ain't none of my niggas yankees though

I ain't stoopin' that low, these wack 'rappers' needs classes to blow/

Instead of writing a rap, writing an essay

Who said i don't rep, i am naija all day

Verse writing, hearse riding,

And my grandmother dying

Maybe i'm on lust well you deserve love

Going to have my pick of classes