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Yo, remember High School? |
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With that dude who thought he was so cool |
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Walking around like everybody should know who, he is |
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Like he was some superstar in the biz |
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Just because he had a Japanese car and some rims |
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It's silly ain't it? |
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It goes to show how tainted |
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'Cause these hoes jocked him like he was somebody who supposedly made it |
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And I'm not hating man, the dude was my boy |
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But I watched girl after girl get their world destroyed |
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Now when a squirrels a squirrel and a nut is a nut |
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And I seen a lot of girls cut so they could get stuffed |
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Or at least be cool in the High School soap opera |
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'Cause kids do anything to be popular |
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Guys get their hair cut so girls can jock ya |
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But if girls get with guys their known as a trick |
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But if a dude does the same shit he's known as a pimp |
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And the question is: Is there really a difference? |
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Remember that girl in high school that everyone wanted to hit |
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She wore them dresses with the bestest breasteses the size of Texas |
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And she was the queen of estrogen white black puerto rican and mexican |
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And she sat next to you in third period |
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She powdered her face but her skin had no flaws |
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Her tits looked like she wore three wonderbras |
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Thank God for that math book you put on your lap to, |
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Cover up your jeans when your dick got hard |
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I mean she was amazing I'm not playing |
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You were like 14 but she was still the kind of girl you wanted a baby with |
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And I could tell the way that she would rock them pants |
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That a lot of dudes hit it but she wanted a chance |
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You talked to her but she gave you the shoulder |
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She was the type of girl that was cold as Boulder |
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She'd only mess with ya if you drove a Rover |
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What I push? Well **** it |
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Let's just say a bucket. OK |
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Anyway one day I rocked a show |
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And I see her right there chillin' up in the front row |
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Next time I go to my math class fer sho she's talking about |
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"Hey yo bro, I didn't know that you flowed |
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Hey yo what's up with that CD? Maybe we could eat lunch after P.E. |
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Ah he he he he" |
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If it's the mic you rock, the car you got, the 3-pointer you shot that get's the girl then she's probably a breezy |
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Remember high school with that girl you can't remember |
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Who? |
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The one that never stuck out, she was kind of like whatever |
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Kinda nerdy, never came to the parties |
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She went home after school and never really chilled with nobody |
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She was in one of your classes and used to wear glasses |
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With braces that accented her pimples that weren't really attractive |
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But she was good in Spanish and let you cheat off her answers |
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But when you'd see her in the hall you would walk right past her |
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You acted like a bastard and never treated her right |
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'Cause her body wasn't bucklin' and her face wasn't tight |
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Well guess what |
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See that beautiful girl with the big butt |
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Standing at the incense shop reading the poetry that she writes |
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That's her. oh hell nah, I know that's not her |
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Wait minus the pimples, the braces, and a lot less nerd |
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Take off the overalls and the baggy sweatshirt |
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Yeah there she is, reading about her words |
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Shit, man I'ma go spit some game |
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Wait I see some resemblance from like way back in the day |
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I rememeber that girl that only liked me 'cause I rhymed |
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And now I'm really only talking to this girl 'cause she looks fine |
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Back when she was normal I wouldn't give her my time |
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Shit that's crazy |
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I kinda feel sleezy |
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If I could flip the scenario |
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I'm the same as these hoes |
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Kinda like the male version of a breezy |
