Classified

Yuh Ded Now

Classified


[chorus:]
T-dot
Ee be comin to blow the spot
Hal-town
We be comin to break it down
D-siggy-sisive killin' it!
Dan-e-o killin' it!
Class killin it!

[verse 1: d-sisive]
Yo, i've had it up to here with ya'll weak-ass rappers
T-dot home of the original four-eyed cau-casian assassin
It's time for some action, forget the relaxin' throw your hands up
D-sisive makin it hot like las angeles
Snatch crowd reactions without even askin
Amazing, ain't nobody ever gonna phase me
I've spit the ill shit since the days of jac
And that word, i make kids run to they bass from len to dim sum
Switch up to mastermind, fifteen forty-nine
It's d-day when that shit done re-wi-i-ind
One love and classified, and my man dan-e-o
And if anybody disagree, you'd better lay low
T-dot, hal-town, canada remain home!

[chorus]

[verse 2: dan-e-o]
Yo, from t-dot to halifax
We rock with battle raps
Please stop your chedda black
We seize spots and chatta cats
Freeze blocks and rattle cats, scatter jack
Matter fact i'll visit any habitat you rappin at and splatter that
Handle that, you best bring you best
You'll look whacker than that black dude in s-club-7
Got stress plus tension from these people who be starin'
Always askin' for weed throwin' that he swearin'
They love my music, only for the underground they carin
But ask them if my cd's in that backpack they wearin'
[?]
I'm killin' crews with chronicles
Been burnin' tracks long before downloading was possible
You need to be logical, now what cha hopin' for?
Hip hop just stay open, raw when you never go to stores?
Fuck it, ima flow for sure, even if you don't support
I'll survive longer than cuja and

[chorus]

[verse 3: classified]
Ayo, let me rep myself
Burnin' tracks to to scotia
Mom pissed cause i never grew how i s'posdea
Rhyme flower, used to catchin cold shoulders
Now i'm spitin' vocals, ridin tracks like roller coasters
Come in to this game, try to prove that class matters
Now i got these college kids feelin' me more than backpackers
Same the cash-lacker i had backwards
Bad boy factor and still disposin whack rappers
The track master, take you on, laugh after
Last chapter, now you finished whack bastard
Gimme your mic son, had too many chances
Rappers come and go and i just gave you leave of absence
Takin your finances, spread it where it's needed
Now everybody in my crew is blazed up and weeded
I never regret what i say so leave it
Sayin' i'm commercial, how the fuck could you believe it?

[chorus]