The President

Uh, look, I grab the microphone, hoping I can right my wrongs

I took a liking to you and now I'm tryna bone

Ya boyfriend look like me, where he got his style from?

But I ain't trippin', you should tell him that I'm proud of him

If biting my style was a sport, he'd prolly be the goat

I get it though, if I wasn't me, I'd wanna be me too

But damn man, give me some space, I ain't got no breathing room

Tryna sweep it under the rug; I think he need a broom

My life been good but I'm only twenty one

I got a long way to go, I feel like I've just begun

Never had opportunities, had to scratch for 'em

Like high-school, I would rap in the auditorium