Classic Feel

Classic feel [Verse 1] Rubber grip or the plastic feel This that Brooklyn shit, this is not the norm This that safety off with that engine on Mercedes Benz, good watch, scene above them all How he got money when he ain't have a job in so long? This that hustler shit, that independent grind That nautical sweat suit and white ones gold shine Barbershop twice a week, stay sharp and in shape In the chair, with the trigger hair, under the cape This that first hand shit, Maybach, tinted windows Not gonna rap about it but really seen it from my window This that fine line between jail and my crooks My bedroom at my mama house smelling like coke This that gambling spot, stop bank, shoot it back Metro North, with three birds in the backpack Plenty trains on bitches, no names or pictures Kept it low so she brought more things to fuck with us This that half off credit, shit we don't respect We just dead them if they try to do 60% This that other 40% that minority flow When all the achers sell hearts and only you sell blow No pain, no gain, I profit of cane Give a fuck who we slaying as long as my team remain This that violating, y'all meet your death This that vile cover, nigga, east versus west [Hook] Classic feel Rubber grip or the plastic feel Classic feel Rubber grip or the plastic feel, nigga It's that motherfucking classic feel Rubber grip or the plastic feel (Representer of the O's & the pistols!) Classic feel And if you get it like me you can tell it's for real [Verse 2] Now if he say I ain't hot I probably fucked his girl Or did violence to his homies, took 'em up out this world Bruce Lee sure, only nigga with that glow BSB Records, nigga I'm the CEO Most of these other rap niggas? They done seen before MC for all, how the fuck you get my number and other line, this momma loves me, she proud of her kid She Used to call me like, 'The cops here, don't come to the crib!' A bad boy, a more gangsta version of Shyne My city all stake and I ain't even get in my prime Still getting that cake, a Pillsbury snow On the real, fuck your opinion, I made it this far and you broke When I was looking for guidance spread the Bible apart But Exodus 20:13 didn't do shit for my heart So I move in silence, all you hear is the spark See a flash 'fore you pass, what a light in the dark What a sight in the chop, yeah, that's DOA I know I look like I'm balling but nigga me no play I'm 'bout my Frito-Lay, bags of chips So if you feelin this shit, baby, rub on your tits (ah-ha!) [Hook]