Archie Green - Archie Strut, Pt. 2 Lyrics

Fuck this rap shit
Some of these fatherless rappers
Is wack ass bastards
Who rap ass backwards
Can't ever believe cause they never imagine
When King's writing new rules they still wonder what happened
And since the new regime of rappin without trappin
Call me Sammy D. I know a lil bout (?)
A nigga bout to peace, so I'm not for the scapping
But my team lookin for a reason to get this shit crackin
Nah these hoes ain't loyal
But these boys ain't royal
Your jewels is faux nigga
Your shoes is old nigga
Wonderin where they buzz be
Too focused on buzzfeed
Finna bust somebody's head, James
Where was we?
Made in god's image, so don't be surprised
When I finally manifest what was written inside
Rose petals on my feet
Jaffy Joker on your vocals (?)
I'm a Section 80 baby
Start a war if you provoke us
Made me change the rules that were written for weed smokers
Spread the word for good health so there's no one below us
Tea Party motherfuckers can all just blow us
Clark Kent is really black, America is Lois
Rest in peace to Sister Maya and also Ruby Dee
Class is the life till the young nigga is deceased [x2]
And see, no one can give you that
That's what you are. So you are that
So you can't aquire that, so you are, so you are that
Clothes can't give it to you. You can dress up all you want
But clothes can't give you class. Big, long power warm (?)....
I'm sittin on a cloud
The green flowin got me thinkin' out loud
Flyin low, towards the motive
I respect ya, Uncle John but Jonny steps are payin homage (?)
Part the seas with the sax, the horn playin Moses
I'm never walkin down the street I've got the santa honestly
My aura's overbearing and it must be used cautiously
Skyscraper to your midrise spectators
Spectacle to be seen to use levitated
See my minds on a much higher plane
And my grinds while shine never complain the pain
Black excellence
Only a few speak it
I bleed it, they need it
That's why my brain's tweakin
I learn lessons more
That's why I'm hardly speakin
But writin many mental essays
Like a Puerto Rican
They want the colleague bullshit
But bitch it is the weekend
There;s swag on in the class
Thats why (?) gone speakin
If we brothers, I'm Michael, you're Fredo
I'm The Terminator, you're Fried Green Tomatoes
My words like clay, comparable to Plato
And these kids give me fat from what I'm bringin to the table
Rest in peace to Sister Maya and also Ruby Dee
Class is the life till a young nigga is deceased [x2]
Class is the life
I have a friend who lives in Cleveland
I remember a real long droughting of being unemployed
And anyone who knows him, the first you think of, you say
He was a guy, even if he had on rags, you knew, he was a guy who had class
I said, you know, he said I was feeling depressed, one day about the fact that I didn't have any shoes
And then I saw a man who had no class