Hi, Class is in session and i am the teacher
I put up points while you talk in the bleacher
Laugh at you fakes as i puff on this reefer
Claim i am trash and then beg for a feature
You niggas is jokester put you on the spot
Claim that your real when you know that your not
10k on your shoes, 15 on your watch
You niggas lost in google and photoshop
You niggas is lame
You niggas all bogus
Hit the here blunt then i tip in slow motion
You think that your slick ?
I'm never left open
You can't play games with me like you need some more tokens
My bitches conceited they all rock designer
That gucci , that louis , that dolce & gabbana
Yeah they play games this is my medal of honor
All these niggas fake , they all made in china
I'm about that mula that fetti that guap
In and out your hoe like the local red box
My niggas keep the work, they never out of stock
Do me and favor keep your hoe out my inbox
Running this shit and i ain't even much tired
Fuck all you rappers yall niggas all fired
I would eat you niggas but yall are expired
Half of these rappers are pathological liars

[Chorus: mduke]

I hit your bitch with that mac, and i don't put no silence on
Fuck nigga get out the way , like i ride with the sirens on
From that dirty dirty south , but keep that mud in a styrofoam
Hollygrove hollygrove hollgrove !
To San Antone it go hollygrove !

[Verse 2: Mateo Sun]

Spitting my shit boy you know that I'm lethal
Fucking her pussy she say pop goes the weasel
Smoking this Dodi like it's really legal
Stay puttin in hours like credit retrieval
Just like a truck my lungs filled with that diesel
Can not compare cause bitch we are not equal
Verses stay sharp and on point like a needle
Done with my story if so this a sequel
I ain't no average motha sucka, to these hoes and I'm calling up this chick for some cudda
Then I Nash her to my brotha