Lyrics
Class is open (yo)
Class is open (yo)
Class is open (yo)
Understandable smooth shit that murderers move with

Understandable smooth shit to jump off the stoop with
Know I kick in my two cents, it's duffles and toothpicks
To give you 16 feel like if a pound flew in
Competition Nutso, let's GPS where the roof is, right
The same flow came out the hallway with me
I put '95 on my back like I'm DeAndre Bembry
It's like I'm Illmatic sitting on loop
Meets Mortal Kombat finishing moves
You seen what the genesis do
And the endings is Jordan-esque
Or whichever way that the play goes
'Cause six joints will get you whatever, I came as Thanos
I threw you jewels with an NYCHA flow
Blue and orange signs like I was on Dolan's payroll
Malcolm X Air Raid Nikes, by the caseload
But still good to fuck with a Becky like John Stamos
Taught to know that the rule of thumb was innuendos
And to slay the box
But to make love to instrumentals, do the math, right?

Look, I spend more on baggies than what they spent on the yola
Off a plate got rid of weight just like I'm Marsha Ambrosius
My bitch quit her job to shop and take up yoga
The strap on the Heckler and Koch made out of cobra
You know Benny stuffed them twelve 12s skinnies until its over
Strip ladies still were stingy just like I'm Tommy Mottola
Nobody rhyme this dominant, honest, probably since Hova
Crown me kindly I'm known as the blueprint finally decoded
Proud to be noticed, watch me, all this grinding got me promoted
We clay statues poverty molded
I got rich with a Pyrex, turn the forks around it
Then retired and got richer just talking 'bout it
I'm still smoking on the rawest sour
Open a trap, close that, then count racks up after office hours
Fans want classics, the suckers want passes
Hustlers don't want much, just comfortable traffic
All these rap niggas get is comfortable caskets
No subliminals, I'm shooting hunting bow accurate
Let's go, who run the city the most?
Me and Sky shot up the club like Diddy and 'Po
I be at your front door if it really was smoke
Every hustler who seen a brick say Benny the G.O.a.t, the Butcher

Everybody talking that whose the best shit
All of y'all can stop it
For two years I recorded the hardest shit that's rockin'
Verse of the year on like all the shit I jotted
I raised the bar then I linked with Marshall in the process (haa!)
I weighed the raw, I linked in Baltimore to cop it
It ain't no ice, leave the cold water on the locket
Yeah, now it's Audemar the watches
Fifty pointers like Harden for the Rockets
Silencer on the barrel got a muffle the Sig
Popped a nigga in his side, broke a couple of ribs
Sky, I was broke when we shot that Luxury vid
Now I'm on IG showing bitches what luxury is (ha!)
All year I made it clear they can't fuck with the kid
I need shorty that played Faith, 'cause I just did it big
Griselda Records, I'm the muscle, you dig?
I don't tussle, I let my gun touch you, you dig? It's The Machine, bitch

I could teach you about the universe
The quasars are soon it bursts
The multiple suns, moons, the Earth
I rhyme exquisite and shut your city down
To the West, I'm a blizzard
On the East, I'm a Kamikaze pilot visit
Who said the kid in the visiting
Who envisioned green isn't mean
As a prison scene that don't keep they division clean?
I spit that hot tamale wasabi mixture
That's a Rob Zombie picture
Stop playing checkers with Bobby Fischer
And just embrace it, I made it to the top floor out the basement
Blew your advance on a bracelet
Pick a line I write, that's not as wicked as a sick piranha bite
A brick of China White, lit wick on a stick of dynamite
A quick reminder might
Show you niggas with a slick persona
I hump through your chick pajamas and dick your mama right
Either the flow's acid, or a trigger finger to expose plastic
Leave a closed casket with a rose basket

Ayo, my first love was a MAC-10
I gotta have four, I had three bodies back then
Little snot nose nigga taking niggas chains off
'Yo so big I had to hit it with the chainsaw (chainsaw)
Aston Martin with the snake seats
In the kitchen, four different stoves, fish waist deep
Yanking blue tops, twenty dollars get you three of 'em
Paul made the sweatsuit
With Neiman with the thing on him (thing on him)
Ayo, Versace on the goalie
Told my teacher "Fuck you!", I'm in class in a Rollie
Stack the hundred thousand, that was back in 2000
Sold a dummy brick, hurry up, nigga count it!
I need a cherry Maybach ASAP, and then counseling
Plug thirty things at the Radisson
Got 'em dirt cheap, three states we had to travel and
Make it back safe, forty each I was adamant
Break one down, everything off the mannequin (off the mannequin, yo)

You can accept it
You will leave those state troopers
Guttered with their own barbarity
If you can accept it
You will do something that will transform conditions here
In Alabama
So I'm not worried this afternoon
However dark it may be (yes Lord!) However difficult it may be
I know that it is true
That truth forever on the scaffold
Wrong forever on the throne (yessir!)
There is another part of that great statement
Yet that scaffold sways the future
Behind the dim unknown
Standeth God within the shadow
Keeping watch above his own (yeah)
William Cullen Bryant is right
Truth crushed to earth will rise again
The Bible is right
You shall reap what you sow

Copyright: MISSING LINK MUSIC
Writer(s): Peter Phillips, Gregory Skyler Taylor, Alvin Lamar Worthy, Desmond Price, Jeremie Pennick, Jason Powers




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