At the ripe age of thirteen

Traded in my lunch box for a canteen

Bought a coat, black, and a jacket, green

‘Cause over were my days as a preteen.

My days of cruising like Air Jordan were over and done

Finished with the fun,

My work eclipsed it like the sun.

They were dark days indeed

Sweating bullets, you could see the beads

of sweat, forming on my forehead.

But I rose to the top, put in my time

Productive, turned every buck into a dollar and a dime

I grew up in C-wing but I was immune to crime

Only sell Snapple, but I prefer lemon and lime.

Like Santo under 2 minutes, I rose to the occasion

For a GPA like mine, you’d think I was Asian

Caucasian. Central Asian streppes,

Calculus problem set, I can do thirty reps.

Now my four years are up, but I’m running for re-election

And why not? My beats are perfection.

And I’m sweet like sugar confection.

That’s my campaign, don’t forget to vote

As for this rhyme? That’s all I wrote.