[Intro] (Oh my god, who is that?) (Is that who I think it is?) (Oh my gosh it's Kenneth Kaniff, I can't believe he's in my class!) (I wonder if he has a girlfriend)
[Verse 1] Ok I’m still in high school and I’ll be lucky to pass I’m real good at most subjects but I’m sucky at math (Do you need some help with that?) My algebra class is past the last door on your left At the end of the hallway near the bottom of steps And when I get to class late, there’s nothing but shit I get insulted by my teachers just for running my lip I’m just trying to spit game to ninth-grade hoes Writing love letter and notes with X and Os Like this one girl who sat next to me at a desk I knew she liked me ‘cause she wouldn’t let me cheat off her text And she was kind of cute too, but her tits ain’t developed ‘The time she’s sixteen, I bet them shit swell up We exchanged numbers so I called on her phone Her mom’s picked up and I said “Is Jennifer home?” She was screaming and yelling “Now how old are you?” “Old enough to buy your daughter a cold case of brew”
[Hook] I’m twenty-one I’ve been in high school for six years The only thing I learned is how to buy you a beer When you’re standing in line, buying a three musketeers I’m right behind you trying to buy you a beer I bet your cheerleading friends try to tell you I’m weird There’s nothing wrong with me trying to buy you a beer And when your tits grow big and your zits disappear Me and you can celebrate with a six-pack of beer
[Verse 2] Now what the fuck is wrong with taking bitches out for a drink They got a mind of their own, screw what their parents will think I’m Ken Kaniff, I like my pussy young and fresh I’m off soft warm women with them b-cup breasts If it ain’t an a-cup or a white sports bra I’m begging an 8th-grader to get their bra down[?] Yo, it ain’t my fault that I’m in algebra 2 With these freshman women who be fiending for brew See all I do is take ‘em out, I buy ‘em a beer It ain’t my fault, when they get home, their pennies disappear Their parents stay asking ‘em who got them drunk But they forgot to ask who fucked them in the back of the trunk And that was me, Connecticut-born, star-born Nine inches, thick like a stock of corn So next time your high school kid’s in my class You’ll know why your cupboard’s missing a glass
[Hook]
[Verse 3] All the senior girls hate me ‘cause I pay them no mind You ain’t in ninth grade baby, then you’re wasting my time At a grammar school it ain’t drank once in your life Sucking forty bottles like dicks on Homer night I like ‘em five foot three, less than a hundred pounds With the beer belly rock hard solid around You see I found this one chick with nipples and tits That look brown and taste good like Kibbles 'n Bits She used to suck my corona till the lime was gone Her shit’s the bomb, I had her in bikini and thongs But we never fucked ‘cause that shit’s against the law Ok I’m lying, I just did her once with cops involved Yeah we boned, so what, I only hit her one time It can’t be illegal to say that in a rhyme It’s not like I’m twenty-nine, I’m still in high school Bottom dollar every freshman girl says I rule