Unexpected Classified (Ft. Mic Boyd)

[Verse 1]
Now I'm the type of kid who wears jogging pants to your downtown scene
Stay comfortable with a pound of brown weed
Lounge around streets and down a few Keiths
Pound a few beats, ya'll know the sound is unique
Now who is this? Class, the last man standing
Gas can in hand trying to blast Grand Canyons
What, I gotta act hard to be a rap star?
I grew up in the sticks fighting hicks in my backyard
Ain't nothing pretty, far from the grimiest
Started in the 90's and it's still hard to find me
Sitting on the benches, still independent
But a Halflife artists attacks mics hardest
So open up your eyes, hold back, stop the talking
I speak to individuals so listen through a walkman
I know I say it often, hard to understand
But I'm sick of doing shows in front of 25 fans

[Chorus] {X2}
We know, ya'll ain't ready
People, won't expect me
Class, stay ahead of this
Ya'll, reap the benefits
Your whole steeze is devilish
And that's why, we ending it