We used to hang a lot in fifth grade
And now we avoid each other like the plague
I sometimes see you in the halls
At passing periods and near locker stalls
Basketball is your game, you’re so very athletic
While the rest of us dribble a ball and look very pathetic
Aside from that, you have the coolest father-teacher
And a hospitable mother
You went to Monroe
Where I used to go
And you now attend North
The place that’s a killjoy of mirth
Keep dribbling the ball and scoring points
Don’t break your joints
While racing toward the basket
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