Classified

Classified - Unexplainable Hunger (Remix) lyrics

rate me

The M.I.C. baby

It's called Unexplainable Hunger

From U.S. to Canada

(Mic check one, two)

Of course my name is Royce 5'9"

(Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)

(You want to set this off?)

Yeah, yeah (let 'em know)

Once upon a time in the city of crime

A nigga named Nickel Nine, came in with the nine

Flamin, with the rhyme, the flame quick as the nine

Aimin at the game sayin "the city is mines" (now)

He looked like the type you underestimate

He's never a suspect, no one investigates (uh huh)

He be beatin them charges with mothers and fathers goin (on and on and

On and)

It should be a felony to be this vicious on the beat

I'm dope, I'm sellin D like a Piston on the streets

Yellin "D! ", for the cheddar cheese

The cheddar I brought, letter B

Like a spelling bee, the pathetic bark, let it be (be, be)

Or get ya chain snatched y'all (y'all)

Jaw cut is a stain of train track scar (scar)

Whoever think of talkin shit to me'll be a memory

His train of thought will stain that car (uh)

I will stretch your dreams from the front seat to the back seat, if I

Could blow a brain that far

Niggaz want to get to know me all 'cause the way I be spittin

Every ho, every bitch in the city be goin...

We give 'em what they want! (yeah, yeah)

So tell 'em who it is!

We give 'em what they want!

So tell 'em who it is!

Classified

Yeah, I'm from a place where it snows six months of the year

Coldhearted, livin off a blunt and a beer

Bodyslam MC's, have 'em runnin for clear

And I'm a skinny white dude, I ain't nothin to fear (Class)

More advanced than you technical cats

Your literature's littered, (literally) edible trash

You rappers gone nuts? Get your testicles back

I got the competition sweatin more than sexual acts

Now take your shot, you think you gettin me?

It's like Snoop Dogg really goin out and quittin weed

I'm always gettin louder man, never thought you'd listen

Leave you walkin different, without a pot to piss in

Came in this game, no plan and no structure

No love from labels, so basically "fuck ya! "

Learned to play my part for the love of this art

Spittin with the same passion I did at the start

I feel a warm breeze

Yeah

So tell 'em who it is!

We give 'em what they want!

So tell 'em who it is!

("Starvin MC")

Talk to 'em

Check me out y'all, yo, yo, Choclair, see, shit ain't sweet

Cheese sandwiches for lunch, two jeans by week

A dollar short for the bus fare again this week

Deprivation from the sleep 'cause them barrels speak

I tried to elevate myself, got a nine to five

But yo it's hard when you makin three ninety five

You turned crosseyed, take your eyes off the prize

Lose focus, lose balance on this fucked up line

So, grab your gruff dog, pull yourself up (yeah)

'Cause these haters just waitin to take your spot up

Brush your shoulders off, pop your collar

Make some power moves and then get dollars

Then these girls go and leave their scent on your collar

Bring their scent home, then wifey's gon' holla

She say you let consumers just dip into the product

But really you be showin your supporters that you got 'em

So daps for the fellas (yeah), hugs for the ladies (yeah)

Some kiss me on the cheek, some act a little crazy

+Parking Lot Pimpin'+ and they call pumpin Jay-Z

Yo, it's just a summer, make me want to cop a Hummer (woo!)

But yo, it's just shocks with a trailer load of lumber

Got the hot tracks that hit every summer (summer)

Yo, it's just Royce Nickel Nine, with my boy Classified

Yo it's Ch-Ch-Ch-Choclair

Yeah

I want to introduce y'all to my young pitbull

We call 'em Vishis in the U.S. y'all

Yeah, yeah, I'm a beast, shouldn't been let up out of the cage

I will blaze, any rapper you niggaz bring in my way (ay!)

Dude'll box you, dude'll pop you

You punks get chopped, my rifle's goin Kung fu (woo, woo)

Two shots'll ruin your Botox and shatter your whole block

If you chatter a whole lot

The young boss, another book, another pen, another song, another win

Another kill, another sin

Calm killer, who's iller than the pen and pad thriller?

A cappella bone chiller, verbal gun clutch nigga (yeah)

Call forensics, Vishis ass went ballistics

Start trippin, hard niggaz turn liquid

Nigga, Bobby Fischer in this game, chess master, actually spittin

Strategies

Casually cause casualties

You want to battle, but when you rap you be babblin

Later you broke playin askin +Why+ like Jada (like Jada, like Jada)

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