Desk in a row, head in a cloud, teacher talkin' loud but I'm drownin' out the sound, chalk on the board like a cage in the chalk, every word that they said was a lock on the clock. Tick-tock, tick-tock, I was stuck in a cell, they call it "education," I call it a hell, raise your hand, raise your hand, don't you dare speak, be a sheep, be a sheep, follow the beat. I was bright but they dimmed it, I was loud but they trimmed it, told me "sit still" — man, I was already finished, not a dropout, I'm a drop-out-of-the-system, they wanted a robot, I gave 'em a symptom.

School — that's a joke, that's a cage with a bell, taught me how to fail and how to fake it well, books full of lies, tests full of fear, four walls, one desk, seventeen years. And they say "stay in school" — yeah, stay in the line, stay in the box, stay losing your mind, I ain't dumb, I was bored, I was broke, I was cold, they sold me a future — I bought it, got sold.

Pass the test, pass the test, memorize the trash, forget it by Monday, flush it in a flash, grades on a paper, not a brain in a head, they grade how you sit, not what you said. Principal preachin' like a priest on a stage, detention for the kid who refused to engage, I was writin' my rhymes in the back of the class, they saw a problem — I saw a way out, fast. No cap, no gown, no fake-ass smile, I ain't walkin' no line for a paper in a file, diploma's a receipt for the years that I lost, so I'm burnin' the receipt — you can keep the cost.

School — that's a joke, that's a cage with a bell, taught me how to fail and how to fake it well, books full of lies, tests full of fear, four walls, one desk, seventeen years. And they say "stay in school" — yeah, stay in the line, stay in the box, stay losing your mind, I ain't dumb, I was bored, I was broke, I was cold, they sold me a future — I bought it, got sold.

They said "you'll be nothing without it." Maybe. Maybe I'm nothing WITH it. 'Cause I sat in that chair, learned to hate what I love, and the only thing I passed was the test to give up. Nah — I ain't giving up. I'm giving BACK. The bell rings — that's my cue to attack.

So screw the GPA, screw the principal's speech, screw the "you won't make it" from the guy who can't teach, I learned more from a beat than a textbook page, more from a mic than a minimum wage, more from a rhyme than a rule in a row, so I'm droppin' the pen and I'm pickin' up the flow. Detention? Been there. Suspension? Done that. But I never let 'em kill what I had in my chest, black. Now the bell's in my hand and I'm ringin' it loud, school's out, motherf— — yeah, I'm proud.

Yeah. That's my diploma. Right there on the beat. Keep your certificate. I kept my mind.