Lyrics:
That's right
I went from ashy to classy, to classic
Quarter million dollar car, you can't pass me
Haters can you hear me now, I can barely hear you
You got them funny ass colors on, take it off
If you in the club with ice on we takin' off
I thought you was a gangsta nigga, you better shake it
(You got them funny ass colors on, take it off)
If you in the club with ice on, we takin' off
(I thought you was a gangsta nigga, you better shake it
Jersey
Now we can do this a couple of different ways, it really depends
Could give them classic NY jeans over the Timbs
Or I could spit about my car
did it in the car
(they dont think its real)
when you look this good
(yes boy grab a feel)
this silicone bout to blow up
tryna keep it classic, while
cars up
Welcome to the complete history of the one known as Talib Kweli
Such a blessing, I'm making the bread leven
Descendant of Terra Firma
I'm
and buy classic cars
And see classic tits at classic bars
Knoc steps in the spot and the girls all pause
Magic stick ill break down walls
Got my heat
The Champion
Donald: Welcome back on this glorious sunday afternoon
for the final round of the Enbuary classic.
The legendary Champion is now
and buy classic cars
And see classic tits at classic bars
Knoc steps in the spot and the girls all pause
Magic stick ill break down walls
Got my heat
to the cop n****z
"Money, that's my girl," c*** block n****z
See you in the club, and scheme on your watch n****z
Talk a lot of s*** with, no Glock n****z
the patience to study the game
Dr. Dre made two Chronics and this is Chronic Three
I make classic hits and buy classic cars
And see classic hoes at classic
downers, ride-arounders, blue oval, bowtie, mopar, classic car, open bar, don't drink and drive, rollin' rollin', motor show, LLC
It was hard to hear over
the night
Roll one, I'ma light
Know I got the pack
2 cars in the front
1 in the back
Know that money stacked
Champagne's on ice
Do it once, do it twice
red rum shots
I keep a stick, we puttin' trackers on the cars
Play with my top, you gon' be in the ER room stretched
Say, I'm a big old Z, so I need
exhale, breathe on it for me)
And I don't know the way I feel
I can explain
(Uh)
I love you
You thug look at what you make the clubs do
(Bounce,
comin', no I'm not Jay-Z
Too many n*ggas hate me, but they scared to face me
This ain't a movie dog, nope, not Waist Deep
I'm not an actor, but I'll show
Bumpin in the car to them 90s classics
Goin hella fast and the musics blastin
Drive me out my mind like bel bivs posion
Baby now come on pop that
disco
Chicken ordered, no Crisco
My nigga David Blaine'd your chick
Disappear like, "Where did my bitch go?"
Them cars out in my gang too
Don't Tony Hawk
Throw the hands up (boasters)
Throw the hands up (Mac)
You know how Mac come through on the club tip
Everybody real deep on that thug shit
Cop Cris'
line, I ain't never never had to wait
I'm the realest in this game, I ain't never had to fake
Forgiatos on the classic like that bitch got on some
Where the fuck going, Z
No, it's J-Man
I'm tryna erase them
Everyday my mind been racing
I been thinking I'm going crazy
I had dreams inside me,
cars, we blank (blank)
Only thing I'm rollin' up is tank, tank (gas tank)
I'm tryna get rid of this taste (taste)
No trust, I know they two-faced
line, I ain't never never had to wait
I'm the realest in this game, I ain't never had to fake
Forgiatos on the classic like that bitch got on some
Welcome to our club, we don't mind what you ride, be it sports-bike, cruiser or commuter
Classic, bagger, chopper, bobber, cafe-racer,
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