Classified Unpredictable Lyrics

I'm so sick with this microphone I feel ill
Like I got 30 different people wanting shit like I was retail
I'm done giving favors give back the pad and pencils
Perform accapella getting no more instrumentals
f*ck potential son
Cause you ain't got the heart or drive
You can talk what you want I'll emerge with a darker side
My marker glides covers wide spread
Plus reflect life on paper, the verbal vibrator
Bringing pleasure to these ears of these hip hop heads Now f*ck it Class bring it to everyone who is not dead
Shit you killing me, now forget the credibility
Let's compare stability, and willingly, lyrical ability
Production wise, I can't be touched (I can't be touched)
And on the microphone I ain't the dopest, but still dope as f*ck
Conceited, and cocky, I call this confidence
Innerself compliments with no equivalents, Now

Chorus (2 times)