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"Bringing information It's all a thinking process kid My mind begins a track Frequency above the normal way your head like interact Try to counteract And wonder how I got up in your brains Just before you made your record information was your claim to fame but now you talking like you made it off your street life Every now and then?? be leading to freak mics So keep tight And keep your head from wondering I'll be known as Class, the kid that everyone be honourin' So by surprise acts, I except with open arms Never thinking I'm a God in my soul, I got the high roll You define gold selling, a certain amount of records Well who's respect did you earn? Baby you got burned Haven't you learned that the job you doin's half-assed Smash That Everybody knows that I'ma last laugh so past that on the peoples in your clique cause when I be laying rhymes you know it's guaranteed thick Never slowing down son I got no time for wasting Cause Class is all about bringing information And when I'm on the mic I speak to every single nation Cause Class is all about bringing information There comes a time in everybody's simple life when everything gets complicated try to dodge it and debate it but a how do you think we got this far? On are own brain? years of fucking signs, blowin' up like it was propane I'ma take you to a spot where everyone can see givin' props to every person who supported me (like who) Jolly Green Quincy Brun, we still in contact Can't forget Jorun for helping me record my first rap in the years to come Got to speak on different terms Never learn If we keep repeating on another sermon I keep on burning like a candle in the wind think my flame is blowin' out? kid I got to much adrenaline You'll never hold me down So, give up And throw the towel in Knocked out again, I take home the medallion your trialing behind son moving to the foreground, so don't talk shit puffing up your top lip So open up your mind, Don't forget about the facts Everything ain't what you hear, you got to see to believe it last Lots of people talking (Class, I'll be done for years) but when I'm bowling through all the people run for clear kid I ain't mad at cha, I gotta live my own life This is the way I picked my plan I got to hold on tight And if I'm right, then I'm right if I'm wrong then oh well There ain't no pressure on my soul I got to pay my toll Every person pays a price, one time or other It doesn't matter what your name be or ya colour you take your shot, I'll take my chance and we can end at that and leave the drama for these kids who wanna try to rap "