Class in Session - Lil Noonie: Song Lyrics, Music Videos & Concerts

Class in Session

1,042

Hip-Hop/Rap

Class in Session was released on December 12, 2025 by Lil Noonie as a part of the album 51 Days & 54 Nights Walkin

Song Details

Album51 Days & 54 Nights Walkin

Release DateDecember 12, 2025

LabelLil Noonie

LanguageEnglish

Melodicness

Acousticness

Valence

Danceability

Energy

BPM102

OVERVIEW

LYRICS

Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS

Lil Noonie

Vocals

COMPOSITION & LYRICS

Jeremiah Bolden

Jeremiah Bolden

Lyrics

PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING

Lil Noonie

Producer

Lyrics

Go, ****

Brr, brr, okay

West Palm, brr, okay

All that big, all that big

Brr, brr, go

Go, whoa, brr

Never depended on my brothers

Only got faith in me and these weapons

We get out of line, shots out of section

We respond fast when we feel threatened

The guns we got in the same collection

Better duck, shit whistle in your direction

Don't let the ball be in our possession

Get put in detention, not class in session

Everybody armed and won't think twice

No bad performance by the opposition

We full of pain and can't talk to a reverend

We grab guns and go express it

Wasn't going to school through metal detectors

Applying pressure made us aggressive

So every limit it was, we test it

We call funeral arrangements blessings

PPC can't slide from bad performance

We seen that straight, we always blowing

Know the reason I'm still going

Take a trip down LA, and they hear us snoring

Tires scratch out, engines roaring

All black coordinated for our clothing

If they don't slide, I'ma slide for 'em

Wife is on 'em when it start snoring

All facts ain't told, won't lie

Double up two buds and we turn quiet

Once it get tight on, we squeeze plies

Risk as veterans and make 'em retire

Can't argue with us, pathological lies

Burn out of West Palm and ball in the Titans

If she don't like guns, then I don't like heating

****, go bite it like you got off the dry

Bad experiment like you on rice

If he ain't check, baby got a diaper

Prefer to do crimes out of all stripes

Tornado spin, we made it a cyclone

Make a body fall before we fighting

Like guns blazing instead of typing

Don't land on the seven when rolling dice

It's an easy chance you fall lifeless

Never depended on my brothers

Only got faith in me and these weapons

We get out of line, shots out of section

We respond fast when we feel threatened

The guns we got in the same collection

Better duck, shit whistle in your direction

Don't let the ball be in our possession

Get put in detention, not class in session

Everybody armed and won't think twice

No bad performance by the opposition

We full of pain and can't talk to a reverend

We grab guns and go express it

Wasn't going to school through metal detectors

Applying pressure made us aggressive

So, every limit it was, we test it

We call funeral arrangements blessings

Summertime, it's 90 degrees

Got an all-black with a Nike ski

We pop four doors, that's how we creep

Tryna get in the fee, better lace your cleats

Got an out-of-air first man low in the Jeep

Cross over the stone, tryna find HB

But it really ain't shit, be coming up over east

Round up mall, walk ten, yeah, it's two feet

Amiri denims cost a grip

But it's still a chase you through your strip

Tryna roll through alley, meet his ass in the dip

No five-ten shots, I'ma DM the clip

If he a funny vibe, I'ma blow out the rip

DOA on the scene, no fair to attempt

Blunt shot from ten, that's pertinent lips

Could've blown down the crowd without hurting a bitch

Tires scratch, just got done clapping

No AM with these bodies, just me and my brothers

I blew you running, he screaming to duck

Yo, she don't get tapped, tryna die for cuffs

That bitch on his back, make him sing like Usher

For Christmas, I want a micro from Russia

Just pray your hoe ain't walking the bus

Three shots to the dome like fish, it gush

Baller hoes know we don't love 'em

The J and I, we cost too much ruckus

Tryna slide on the noonie, get your shit busted

If we up there, I cause real destruction

We don't pray on the weak, we applaud the toughest

Lost my big brother, got this bitch busted

What's her name at the G? That shit got ugly

I thought I'd see you reckless more than a dozen

Written by: Jeremiah Bolden

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