Brittney Chantele - R.O.T.C. (Interlude) Lyrics

Yeah you know Aston she's a shitbag
She's probably gonna fail the program
Yeah, and she's out of shape
She ain't gonna make commission
She's always faking sick too
F*cking shitbag
Ha ha ha yo
Loser
Ha ha ha
Uh
Yeah
How you gonna tell me I'm a shit bag
When you beat ya girl in ya dorm while she visit
How you gonna say I'm gonna fail
When you failing 2 classes and ya grades slippin'
How you gonna tell me that I'm out of shape
When I did twice as many push-ups you didn't
How you gonna tell me I won't make commission
Yeah
When you don't know the mission
How the f*ck you gonna say I'm faking sick
Tell the truth nearly done with this patience shit
See my inner clock is ticking and I'm damn near down to detonation
Im'a break if I don't take the shit
I'm in class big sleep
You don't give a f*ck
And you'd probably call me lazy if I gave it up
I know it sounds like complaining but my stress level dangerous
You been taking all of me so I don't get enough
F*ck
I'm f*cking tired of this 4:30
Like literally tired bro it's 4:30
And I still got class
That's another sore pain in my ass
That expects me to be deemed worthy
This is Brittney's Army lemonade
An album to remind you of the sour taste
With a song that resulted from a power play
Of making everybody think it's sweet
So we don't notice all the sour ways
I'm surprised I made it this far
They have a way of telling you it's this hard
And praising you for being brave
But what they often fail to mention is you might not get a pension
When you realize you're never gonna be the same
Welcome to the f*cking game