When I react on tracks I make necks snap with raw rap

Underrated too much but critics I don't follow that

You can't even dream of looking through my eyes 

And be compared to the same guy

Now open up your reservoir, all and all, Draining body fluids

Now watch me do it, or complicate the situation, screw it

Cause how the fuck you gonna play this game 

You took it far enough my turn erasing names 

I'll make an MC flips backwards, even let you rap first 

Blow away your format, how can you ignore that

Shit, your rap style expired long ago

Now you falling off plus your peoples like domino 

Here we go again

Classified saying same shit that he did back when

Well I'm pissed off and ain't getting no better

Seeing weak mc's on TV that's the reason that I'm fed up 

  

[Chorus x2]

Who be, I be, Class 

Verbal drug pusher 

Yall can check his pulse through your subwoofer, and 

Who me, what you

Heart beat provider 

Motivate myself to keep the rest of yall inspired

  

How's a ritual like this, treated pitiful and shit 

Looking for these individuals to verbally commit 

Take some action on your words, like speaking from the heart 

Talk about experience but never played the part 

Got some smart shit to say, don't ya

Rappers entering this game biting like a vulture and saying fuck the culture

Talking image like that's how you portrayed

While this cross eyed rapper dudes, reflecting off my attitude

Now drop the eloquence I never had it in me

And never seen no christyle ever in my city

So pop the great white and let's have a drink or two

Shit, I'm wasted on half a pint of vodka ain't you

Damn, I guess that means I'm pussy 

Never had no pressure in my life to push me 

Staying focused on the topic at hand 

To battle back from any mc or man, now that's that true shit

 

[Chorus x2] 



I'm so sick with this microphone I feel ill 

Like I got 30 different people wanting shit like I was retail 

I'm done giving favors give back the pad and pencils

Perform accapella getting no more instrumentals 

Fuck potential son 

Cause you ain't got the heart or drive

You can talk what you want I'll emerge with a darker side 

My marker glides covers wide spread 

Plus reflect life on paper, the verbal vibrator

Bringing pleasure to these ears of these hip hop heads

Now fuck it Class bring it to everyone who is not dead

Shit you killing me, now forget the credibility

Let's compare stability, and willingly, lyrical ability 

Production wise, I can't be touched (I can't be touched)

And on the microphone I ain't the dopest, but still dope as fuck 

Conceited, and cocky, I call this confidence 

Innerself compliments with no equivalents, Now

 

[Chorus x2]