I'm eighteen, and I don't know what I want.
School's out forever, school's been blown to pieces.
Scoring high in procreation, got an A studying female anatomy.
The boy's got problems, the boy's got stress, the boy's got a .38 hidden in his desk.
We cheated on our math tests, we carved some dirty words on the desk.
He thinks about his teacher in his literary class, he's staring at her legs.
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