High School Shit - Masta Ace, Torae

Alright

We got a rap battle going on today

This what you call that old high school shit

That your school not better than my school shit

I can’t listen to them lies you spit

You gonna homecoming for real, I was saying?

Yeah it’s that high school shit

That your school is not better than my school shit

I can’t listen to them lies you spit

You gonna homecoming for real, keep playing

This what you call that old high school rivalry

I’m about to go in on your school entirely

Y’all grades be the opposite of straight A’s

The hallways full of conflicts and melees

You straight craze and your school’s for the weirdos

A bunch of queer bro’s in heels and weird clothes

Your mascotte get backshots, to share folder

A whole team full of zero’s, what you here for?

Half your school bang, the rest are into dealing

Your old ass school got asbestos in the ceiling

And the gas leaking, lead paint is on the walls

And mad dudes and broads be fainting in the hall

Comparing your school to mine just ain’t smart

Aside from the girls is burning, ya ain’t hot

The dean is a fiend, the principal smoke pot

And the halls is so dirty that the roaches broke out

Man, look at your school and look at my school

Yours just more like a jail than a high school

Run by the head of detectives, metal detectors

Cops in every class cause they better protect us

Yo check this, our schools ain’t in the same league

Your lunch lady got a mustache and gold teeth

You meet your demise from meeting my lines

From snacking on the murder burgers and suicide lines

This what you call that old high school shit

That your school not better than my school shit

I can’t listen to them lies you spit

You gonna homecoming for real, I was saying?

Yeah it’s that high school shit

That your school is not better than my school shit

I can’t listen to them lies you spit

You gonna homecoming for real, keep playing

You really shouldn’t do this, I think it’s best to listen

I’m about to give this dunge rat attention

Your team starts at five, designed to ride benches

Your only championships is Special Olympics

I heard your basketball coach got a baby by a tenth grader

He’ll be changing diapers on the bench later

During the time out in the game that ya losing bad

Arguing with his point guard about who’s the dad?

I warned you son but you just wouldn’t heed

The editor of your school paper can not read

Your prom queen Steve his floor burns on the knees

And most likely to succeed, nah mean

Your school nurse is obese and got diabetes

Putting Robitussin on her broken finger

The gym teacher dropped like five CD’s

And your lunch lady swears that’s she the dopest singer

I smack Catholics in boarding schools

Your Delaney Card name reads born to lose

Your class valedictorian forty two

Ya better tell 'em who he talking to, warn this dude

Please you can’t spell valedictorian

Ain’t no chance that you can win this war we in

You better tell these Dowey boys, all we do is spit

And sit, we on that high school shit, yeah