Just a neat little track. Nothing special.
J-Class: The Genuine Article. Versatile lyricist from Philly.
J-Class aka Donnie Darko aka Frodo Bagginz aka The Architect.
The man of a thousand names and a thousand styles. Yet he always manages to be the genuine article.
Story behind the song
Got bored. Popped on this beat and was feelin' it. So... had to lace it. Not that hot, to me. Maybe ya'll feel it. One.
Lyrics
I.
What you ain’t know, ‘bout the kid from the P – H
It’s Hyphen, catch me on the block or the X – H
Like lightnin’, I strike more than twice a night
Cats should call me Jack Frost the way I ice the mic
Class spit nothin’ but heat, all four seasons
Philly ain’t tryin’ to hear no “truth” or no “reason”
Spit fast when I’m furious, tearin’ up “freeways”
Just to show you that I’m better, my pager go three ways
Heh
I’m the best and the rest is history
Who else can just smile and then get sex instantly?
Feel free to both hate and envy me
I would if I were you cuz it ain’t no end to me…
Ya’ll Gone Make Me Cock It And Unload
Ya’ll Gone Make This Glock Get Uncold
Class Only Bussin’ These Rhymes To Flip Modes
Class On Top Now, What, You Ain’t Know?
II.
Class on top of the world
So you won’t see my feet on the ground ‘less I’m talkin’ to girls
Scoopin’ a couple chicks and addin’ ‘em to the list
Then draggin’ ‘em to the Ritz for shaggin’ until six
I’m the rap game’s Austin Powers
I’m the reason ya’ chick say she at the mall for hours
And I don’t know about ya’ll, but I’m here to collect paper
And I couldn’t careless ‘bout respect from ya’ll haters
My city go to war like the Sixers and Lakers
I’ll keep half of ya’ face off like you Wilson the Neighbor
I’m the “toolman”… butta’ wit’ the “home improvement”
If a chick say she love me, I want dome to prove it
C’mon man… you know how us Philly cats hack it
Stay wit’ heat tucked under the Eagles jacket
Stay street smart with them Philly Underground Tactics
My rap shit is automatically labeled a classic
Ya’ll Gone Make Me Cock It And Unload
Ya’ll Gone Make This Glock Get Uncold
Class Only Bussin’ These Rhymes To Flip Modes
Class On Top Now, What, You Ain’t Know?
III.
What you ain’t know, Class’ll reach for the heater
And knock ya’ ass right out the park like D. Jeter
Been in the game for years, I ain’t new to this
Keep “disturbin’ my peace”, shit gone get “lud-a-cris”
So move bitch, and get on up out the way
And you won’t have to duck these shells comin’ ya’ way
Y’know shit’s goin’ to hell, run into Jay
Last thing you gone see the spark, up in ya’ face
It’s Hyphen… and I came to party ya’ll
Lock the whole week down like it’s Mardi Gras
You can “bet”, I’ma “view” you “comics” like hardy-har
You’ll know I hit ya’ chick if she can hardly talk
The game’s won, my government handle is Jay Son
And I run with mo’ “outsiders” than Pace-won
I’m a legend when it comes down to it like Gran Klump
Cuz ain’t nothin’ wrong wit’ havin’ relations
Ya’ll Gone Make Me Cock It And Unload
Ya’ll Gone Make This Glock Get Uncold
Class Only Bussin’ These Rhymes To Flip Modes
Class On Top Now, What, You Ain’t Know?
