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
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
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
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
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
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
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,
[Intro: Ghostface Killah]
Oh shit, look at them, they running on foot
They picked the car up, they on some Flintstone shit
Oh shit... and them niggaz
I was looking for a cheap car in the Sunday classifieds
When an ad jumped out and hit me right between my bugged out eyes
It was a two year old
They think that they know, something 'bout my life
Not in the same class, not on the same flight
Maybe the same club, just not the same lights
you mean dawg?
Ever since that mothafuckin car hit you
Somethin' been wrong with you
You been a bit whistle off
Tempo ever since you
Popped out
Her ass is out ( to this song)
My cash is out (all night long)
She show me love , up in the club
Now that’s what’s up! Are you going?
Her ass is out
Yeah shake it up yeah
Shake it shake it shake it girl
Shake it up shake it up shake it up shake it up
I met you in the club
You are not the classic
1985
1985
She's seen all the classics
She knows every line
Breakfast club, pretty in pink
Even St. Elmo's fire
She rocked out to wham
Not
that's what we prefer in our car club
Gotta the sun roof popped and rear views tint
And when you open my door all you can smell is peppermint
As we
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