Lyrics Heavy Artillery - Classified

Heavy Artillery

Yo, now is you ready for the man steppin in with the heavy artillery
Both hands cocked to the back ready and willingly
Spit fire over tracks, you ain’t feeling me
Judging how I look not by lyrical abilities
Please, this is for my people in the background
Staying out the limelight, moulding how a track sounds
Walk with my Cap Down
Class never back down
Weigh bout a half pound
Fight to the last round
And keep moving, I’m like Parker Lewis, can’t lose
I got ya running man, with or without Dance Moves
I don’t get bad moods sometimes I’m just pissed off
Drive by in your ride, wave high and you’ll get flipped off
It’s like that, all I do is write raps
Drop beats for hype tracks, smoke weed for nightcaps
Step up, we’ll strike back, listen how I word it
Always underground but I’ll rise to the surface
Getting you dem of the heavy artillery
That’s why all the girls them love we
Flex with the friends we no flex with the enemies
Cause we enemy we wanna come hurt we
And then hold an apology
Cause ya know we have the heavy artillery
Flex with the friends we no flex with the enemies
Cause we enemy we wan come hurt we
Now when I’m dyin' at home I wanna picture on my headstone
My microphone, 2 tables and my headphones
Cross fader, triton and the MPC
Resting here 'Dope producer slash MC'
But let’s move, sometimes I wild out and wanna let loose
Smoke weed, drink booze for an excuse
I’m in the wrong state of mind
All you flashy rappers talking, I’m here to take your shine
Take your props, make em mine, so how ya like me now
I see your tempers rising, you wanna strike me down
But I will stay here, and whether or not I play fair
Depends on these rappers acting like they need some day care
Children stop playing, start building
I don’t care who ya know or if you pushed a hard million
It’s hard dealing, I’m almost ready to explode
Everybody wanna hate, but we really gotta grow, let’s go
Yo, I see you leaning on the wall with your hands in your back pocket
Acting hard like you can’t feel this, stop it
I know some rappers in the place really can’t rock it
But when I get up on the mic it’s always hot shit
Listen as I take you through this
Spit from the heart, this is art more than music
Half of you are clueless, don’t know the real
You repeat what you hear and expect a record deal
I live for the moment, Class got ya open
This is that shit right here, still boasting
I see through ya and I’m finish with the small talk
Done wasting time son, you guaranteed to fall off