Information

Classified
Bringing information
It's all a thinking process kid
My mind begins a track
Frequency above the normal way your head like interact
Try to counteract
And wonder how I got up in your brains
Just before you made your record information was your claim to fame
But now you talking like you made it off your street life
Every now and then ?? be leading to freak mics
So keep tight
And keep your head from wondering
I'll be known as Class, the kid that everyone be honourin'
So by surprise acts, I except with open arms
Never thinking I'm a God in my soul, I got the high roll
You define gold selling, a certain amount of records
Well who's respect did you earn? Baby you got burned
Haven't you learned that the job you doin's half-assed
Smash That
Everybody knows that I'ma last laugh
So past that on the peoples in your clique
Cause when I be laying rhymes you know it's guaranteed thick
Never slowing down son I got no time for wasting
Cause Class is all about bringing information
And when I'm on the mic I speak to every single nation
Cause Class is all about bringing information
There comes a time in everybody's simple life when everything gets complicated
Try to dodge it and debate it but a
How do you think we got this far? On are own brain?
Years of f*cking signs, blowin' up like it was propane
I'ma take you to a spot where everyone can see
Givin' props to every person who supported me
(like who)
Jolly Green
Quincy Brun, we still in contact
Can't forget Jorun for helping me record my first rap
In the years to come
Got to speak on different terms
Never learn
If we keep repeating on another sermon
I keep on burning like a candle in the wind
Think my flame is blowin' out? kid I got to much adrenaline
You'll never hold me down
So, give up
And throw the towel in
Knocked out again, I take home the medallion
Your trialing behind son
Moving to the foreground, so don't talk shit
Puffing up your top lip
So open up your mind, Don't forget about the facts
Everything ain't what you hear, you got to see to believe it last
Lots of people talking (Class, I'll be done for years)
But when I'm bowling through all the people run for clear
Kid I ain't mad at cha, I gotta live my own life
This is the way I picked my plan I got to hold on tight
And if I'm right, then I'm right
If I'm wrong then oh well
There ain't no pressure on my soul I got to pay my toll
Every person pays a price, one time or other
It doesn't matter what your name be or ya colour
You take your shot, I'll take my chance and we can end at that
And leave the drama for these kids who wanna try to rap