Lyrics:
They think that they know, something 'bout my life
Not in the same class, not on the same flight
Maybe the same club, just not the same lights
don't even play ha ha ha, I'm home now though
(Man Gym class heroes is a real problem
You needa recognize that
Y'all was actin' funny while we was
all rolls back when I listen to The Killers
The jukebox queens, the gym class heroes
I wonder how things would be different if I did it all over again
stereo
Oh, oh, oh (it's your boy, Travie)
(Gym Class Heroes, baby)
So sing along to my stereo (yeah)
gnarly
Got that cottonmouth so I'm sippin' on Starry
Only toke never snortin' on Charlie (nah)
(Aye, your turn Connor)
(Fire on that shit boy)
Freak in
stereo
Oh, oh, oh (it's your boy, Travie)
(Gym Class Heroes, baby)
So sing along to my stereo (yeah)
stacked miles high
They say money changed me, that's a no no
I just don't roll with bums, no hobo
[Chorus:]
(Man gym class heroes is a real problem,
chance to hold you close
(It's your boy Travie, Gym Class Heroes)
I don't know where you're going
(Let's go, yeah)
Just get yourself back home
We both
to my stereo
Oh, oh-oh, oh
Oh, oh-oh, oh (oh)
Oh, oh-oh, oh (it's your boy, Travie)
(Gym Class Heroes, baby)
(Yeah)
as well add a few racks to the mass, hoe
I'm counting up these racks, you know I'm doing it with class
You be stuck in your head, you be living in a glass
bands wanna hold sumthin
Young man got bands wanna hold sumthin
Yea i'm deeper in this water like great white
Smoking in this first class fina take flight
float, and I get good grades
Jart got stank like gym class (shout out 4)
High school babies used to kiss my- woah
Whippin in the foreign
Yeah, the smell
a whip wit this shit
Pussy ass nigga ain't built for this shit
Just scored a hunnid feel like Wilt in this bish
Dope boys in the trap feel like Tip in this
can't be last
I was in the hallways skipping school I said fuck class
Teacher got my dick cause I said fuck math
Damn baby you nasty give it to me filthy
talking gas
He thought he was hard so we left em laying in the grass
Left em in the grass we done stomped his ass out
I done made a couple bands I had to go
am him
I hang you out helicopter you aint fly as him
I love flexing, only class I ever passed was gym
Im on ya ass
Tap the gas
And then I’m passing him
at you
I just mad three bands it's gone take you a week or two
You need to go hit the gym you a weaker dude
I'm in LA I just might go to Malibu
You fifty
Gilligan Gucci by the pants cuff
Clean up chrezy like janitors
HBCU all I done been to stack these muhfuckin bands up
Now I got clear view fix my rear
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