School School

it makes me drool

hard classes like math,

make me feel like a fool

first period second period third, fourth, fifth

the more I repeat, its all just a drift

good thing its real though

or I might get a sift,

for my birthday that is

homeboys and kids

cuz in math Im a wiz

Yet my grade says differentliz-ly

Sadly though the year is windin down,

we're all growin old in the worn out town,

last year of school and we be ready to leave,

the only thing left to do is roll out like thieves,

manes and manettes theres not much left to say,

I just layed down a fresh beat on this taradactile-like day,

I guess ima quit rappin so yall dont have to chatta,

Im done with it all cuz you know I got swagga

Peace up, A-town down