[Verse 1: Wordsworth]
Yeah, yo, class is in session. I'm in the lunchroom
What a connection to have
""Who's the best?" There’s a such thing as dumb question to ask
Words. I'm on the dean's list (Why?)
You got to be serious
For cats that missed gym and missed the regents to see me spit
Teachers don't check or edit. They check your head and read it
Got extra credit—read off the teacher's pet to get it
Dump your trays so we can just bang for these beats
It's so crowded, people sitting on the table for seats
Students ain't returning to class or concerned if they pass (Why?)
Because they learning more from me than they learn from they class
Rhymes in my mind plus my binder—know where to find us
The picture won't even wind up cause if I line up...

[Verse 2: C-Rayz Walz]
Another face in the lineup—unusual suspect
The angel bang you. Change your square, rectangle
My mouth is a gun known to blast crews
I stay spitting like Chinese dudes in fast food
We come through with skills, kill the many raw
Now give me mines, for real, like guilds with Freddy claws
And catch another line punch from the buttercrunch (Line drawn)
Brother shine funk, sound the gutter, grind drunk (Wreck us)
Cold fool, bash crews, take they boombox
With dynamite sticks in my hand and boombox
Explosive and I'm only igniting—trust me
Nobody wants this like diarrhea—why you fighting?
[Verse 3: J-Treds]
These are my school days—J killin' it. Tainted Kool-Aid
And dues paid came in mastering my tools of the trade
Ain't cool that the game's cruel and the rules are the same
But my love is spittin' fires' what fuels the flame
This played fool tryna play fool, so either upgrade
Or get treated the free-lunch way—eat 'em up, J
Cause when there's pangs in my stomach, you gon' see the fangs coming
With the fangs comes the beast—that's the change a-coming
Cause we the freestyle authors with a free trial offer
You want a piece? You want to see a child in fosters?
Well, we advice caution cause we a dream sequence
"The Lineup." We awesome, illest team defense

[Verse 4: Thirstin Howl III]
Got my own lunch table. I don't go to this school
Even teachers raise they hands to talk to the dude
School guards act hard—still 'nough shook
They know my book bag full of everything but books
Walk the halls with my shorty, drinking a 40
The dean could've caught me but I heard the walkie-talkie
Absent every day, considered a truant
In the class by myself for spitting this music
Pencils kept sharp. Ink pen weapons
Rambo. Radio Melle Mel message
Twelve semesters uncompleted, hundred reasons
I'll never be shit? Then we shall see, bitch
[Verse 5: Vast Aire]
I cut class like I like swords (Swing!)
If you ain't hard like the boulevard erasure/erase your boards
Hesitate and get sent to the void
(But if survives) Man, he caught the keloid
First of all, you's a wind-up toy
I don't battle MCs—I kill androids
Teacher said, "You too loose in the head"
You don't get a graham cracker. You go straight to bed
Play time's over. Go to straight to special ed (Fuck)
Play with Simon, do as he says
Professor X taught me best
How to levitate SP-12's at recess
"The Lineup." Yo

[Verse 6: Breezly Brewin]
Ayyo, check my phonics. Fo sho, get demonic
All crazed, I'm all day— get all A's in hoes economics
I blast rhymes, it's on, and some chicks want mine
Some fast times, some Sean Penn at Ridgemont High
Tell'em you're fresh man like Carmelo (Carmelo)
We the super seniors—you get suped. You see us
Vote for yours, get strong, eat your veggies
And get beat, the wedgie—you learn your turn, you're over
Lost in thorns
Then you're real queer, so you get so weak
Your meek on some male cheerleader that won't sneak a peek
I can't respect it—see, my peeps are rep-to-death kids
I'm effervescent—heads I give a F for effort
[Verse 7: MF Doom]
Who could turn a study hall into a bloody brawl
When they get it twisted like the funnies on a Silly Putty ball?
Ask not about the dome steam, the mask is hot
And he's not you man or your home team mascot
Ras clot. How them fools sound?
The twelfth-grade dropout who trespass on school grounds
Giving back and for the kids like Nickelodeon
Who mainly pay me. Fill out a app for custodian
With his record, that's the only job of hire
Way before the metal detectors and barbed wire
Supposed to graduated with the bunch of '89
They hated. He made 'em wait on the lunch lady line
Told us "You better stop or her head'll pop"
The only class he ever passed was metal shop
It's where he used to practice his tactics to spit oil
Don't drink the milk—the shit's spoiled