This is a song about "You are good at math"

When i get to warwick avenue

Stay in taxes we as good at you

You ain’t been around shit but your momma and your bitch

You fucking do-gooders, too bad you couldn't do good at marriage

The lights are flashing at you straight in the face

Keep yo' head up and try to keep the faith

Hit it then i quit it ‘fore she even made the bed

Not like in the good old days when you looked up at me an said

You fucking dead bitch chips, i'm on my fifth bag with your bitch ass

Your on the wrong path,you minus me equals garbage thats strong math

You are pretty good to rap, cuz you have a fucking big gap.

You been aching for that cuz what they playing on the station is wack

They say hip-hop's dead, i believe it's just the fans

You wanna see my math notebook, you see lining bar plans

Ignorant denim no wonder i got mad kicks

To be good at rap, you need no limits