This is a song about "You being good at math but sucking at basketball"

You tell me 'one strike,' well, good thing i was never good at math.

But girl you’re special like i met you in the slow class

Baby, you know who you are

At the thought of being popular

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

Blow my smoke out the window, dropping ashes on the bridge

But all you do is stare at me

I reel them in, goadomes on see

But it's a part of me to fail things like these, though i was always good at

Nigga, don't be nervous nigga, say somethin'; trust me guys, he can rap

Cheated on light skin dominique when we was seventeen

Cuz it seems you get ass for free by simply being at the scene

Just look at my good body

Oops, i'm so sorry

Thats the end of my speech, i'm a need you to clap

You say he love you but baby were that ring at?