Marx

1.5 marks, it was only 1.5 marks

That was the distance between me and all them bright sparks

The teacher said they had the fine art

While I just defined art

Travelled my whole life only just to find art

Meanwhile my pupils were giving me scruples

getting commended cause they refine art

All they did was copy no rhyme or reason

Soon as I postulate or formulate a statement of difference or dissidence

Seems like the shit is just treason

My teachers hate when I veer from the script so I don't break even

That's the crime of dreaming

 

 

(Chorus)

So I pray for the day I can break away

You know I pray for the day I can break away

I pray for the day I can break away

This is limbo staying right here, staying right here's the one thing I fear

 

Stuck in class, thinking bout getting cash

dudes over to the side discussing getting ass

Not writing notes just doodles on my pad

Oh shit, my dad gon get real mad