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Classified - Find Out Lyrics - Zortam Music
Song:Find Out
Album:Hitch Hikin MusicGenres:Hip-Hop
Year:2006 Length:260 sec

Lyrics:

[Classified:]
[Chorus: x2]
What's goin on?
(You gonna find out)
Sooner or later
(You gonna find out)
Are you ready for this?
(You gonna find out)
Tell em'who it is
(Your gonna find out)

Put your hands up
Man up
Look up
Find out
Cut through the rope
Nope
Not stayin tied down
Gone for a minute
Yup
Back on the grind now
Thought I was finished
Nope
Not jerry seinfeld
Whos this?
Guess who
Back to stay
Get more use outta class than a plastic bag
Moms still lookin at me like act your age
'Cause friday and saturday I'm either trashed or blazed
I don't fascinate
I live it
That's it
I even bought a house
Off of writin' rap shit
But don't get it twisted
I ain't that rich
'Cause I'm payin' off the loan 'till I'm in a casket
Country boy
Move out to the city life
Back to the sticks
With the family and minibike
Yet nothin' change
Spit rhymes nicest
This games givin' me a mid life crisis

[Chorus]

This whole thing failed to amaze me
Since the 80's
This hip-hop thing basicly raised me
But lately everyones gun is off saftey
What happened to the culture
Breakers and the break beats
When I was 18
Never cared to make green
I'd write rhymes
Turn this day job into a daydream
And now a day it's all changing
Guess I'm growin' up
'Cause I wonder what the f*ck are we raising
Used to be a culture
Now it's all a hustle
Used to flex skills
Now we flex biceps
I flip flows you aint tried yet
Make you expect the unexpected
Sit and get your mindset
Culture shark
I talk the talk
And I'm a dieing breed
Still trying to eat
I'm a mc first (always)
Buisness last
That's probaby why I made no real cash as class
(But I can live with that)

[Chorus]

Now I don't hate gangster rap
Someone fakin' jacks
Trying to glorify it
With hopes in makin' cash
Steal from a culture
And never pay it back
Hate repeatin' myself
But I gotta state the facts
Most kids know
That it's an entertainment purpose
10% Don't tho and wanna be that person
Wanna sell drugs
Hold guns
Pimp hoes
Buy blades
Waste money
Rob people
Get dough
I know things change
And I'm fine with it
But now where gettin judged
On the crimes we did
Or the dimes we hit
Or the lines we snitch
We used to get props for the rhymes we spit
What happened?

[Chorus]




 

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