crawled up out of that grave, wipin' the dirt, cleanin' my shirt They thought I'd make another illmatic But it's always forward, I'm movin' Never backwards stupid here's another classic
to get it, plastic classic Totem poles in the briefcase shows Get that brand new action Gonna let me get with the jet effect Get that brand new action
flow, make summer turn winter Ch-ch-chilly raw cheese stick made up in Philly I come in peace like a hippy Piece on my chain, grandma say that silly The new
violent fantasies While dad guzzles beer with his favorite sport Only to find his heroes are all coked up Classic, original, the same old story The politics of hate in a new
think you need a G-mix Something like a remix Instead it's for the G's in the street and the bad bitches What's a bad bitch she a hood classic Big
pillow I think you need a G-mix Something like a remix Instead it's for the G's in the street and the bad bitches What's a bad bitch she a hood classic
Well oh they might wear classic Reeboks Or knackered Converse or tracky bottoms tucked in socks But all of that's what the point is not The point's that
four-fifth, bitch slang to this, c'mon [Hook] [Bars & Hooks] Yeah, it's real ill when a classic album drop But it's real fucked up when a classic
1: KEV NISH Lets party baby, tell the dj get the party crazy I?m fellin faded like a classic pair of Ben Davis (All Night) Music?s bangin, (All Night) hella ladies I?m navigating through them girls like a new
(Aiyyo tell 'em that we not gon' be playin) Or should I say members of the hip-hop community (I'll blaze 'em niggaz) Petey Pablo, a new artist signed
chokin' out I do what I wanna when I wanna ball when it's summer Leave out the club, squeeze 'em all in the Hummer Stitching in the seats, interior Peanut Butter Brand new
no more Cutlass is 4 door, stash for the 4 4 Smokes 144, what dem O's go for Like ohh 350 1 more, 350 stick'n the floor brand new bizarre Smashes, G
You know we don't drop hits, uh uh We drop classics nigga, uh huh Cash money, c'mon, get at me nigga Nigga thuggin' is in my blood and my genes All the
sweat We socialize Broken homes From which they come Beer stained dad Complianin' mom Fear love, much despised Replaced with comfortable lies Teenage classic
She was a real royal lady, true patron of the arts Said the best country singers die in the back of classic cars So if I ever got too hungry for a suitcase