Letra de ' Classic (feat. 2 Eleven & Jay Worthy) ' de Boldy James

Yeah, million-dollar game spitter
You know the price stay goin' up
Recession-proof, nigga
Ten different incomes, you know what I'm sayin'?
We don't feel none of that shit
I stay grinding though

Been around the world twice, running up this mileage
I been putting this shit on, I ain't never need no stylist
She just tryna win, heard that pussy got some mileage
I'm diggin' in the game, tryna see where I could profit
Went from trappin' out the projects to niggas droppin' projects
How your watch worth a buck without no diamonds?
Yeah, I rap the new dope game and we uppin' all the prices
'Cause the feds using lyrics for indictments (Uh)
Ain't no pressure, I know what I signed up for
And everything that come with it, I know these niggas cutthroat
When you self-made, they gon' hate you with the utmost
And playing both sides, watch, niggas gon' end up smoked
'Bron James how I'm busting these plates
And doors on the Rolls truck open opposite ways
For a name, she'll go opposite ways
And 'round here, a day in the life might get you life in a day

Cs in the Bentayga, they red in a douche rag
They say you a douchebag, the patty cake blue in his new flag
He hid two in the broom closet, just fronted out two slabs
(Two-step the blow) But my wrist doin' the Schoolcraft
This ain't [?] you can't style me, no, we can't polly
And Jay [?] you know I'm heavy on the State Mile
My chain [?], I'm driving with my knee twistin' up the tree
Working three phones while I'm lane-switching
We serving Js up till thirty in the morning
Full-coverage insurance, ridin' dirty in a foreign
Sweaters and lean, nah, this ain't no Liz Claiborne
My whip damn near equivalent to eighty pints of acorn
On our side, it's the [hard side?], this where the pills blue
Land of milk and honey but the money reek of mildew
Cartier-starin' at the world through my rearview
Flyin' up the lodge, dropping lines in my clear fruit

These bitches ain't shit, they only loyal to the money
And these niggas no different, I can't fuck with you, homie
Catch me riding by my lonely with a cup full of Dom P
Play this shit only, smoke and blast till the eyes itch
We in Medellín, probably where they might find me
Got the bartel with me, wish a nigga would try me
Throwing money, drink and rum, knockin' hoes at the island
No Toosi, no poosi, well fuck it, we wildin'
I suu the the woo, ho, but I ain't from Charlotte
I suu like the woo, ho, I'll take you to Bompton
Put her on a plane, we ain't do too much talkin'
Take you out the slums to a penthouse 'partment
Throw some yay on the table, have a penthouse table
No neighbors on my floor, ho, I'm penthouse-worthy
If I kick for a week, hell yeah, she'll be working
No stripper, no twerking, advanced with the earnin'
It's P