[Intro]
Classic (classic)
Classic (classic)
[Verse 1: Trials]
Yeah, terrifying creature, size thirteen Nike sneakers
Beard is like "what?" and the hair is like Jesus
They smuggling the reefer, suspect smell
But it's a habit, gotta have it like it's Done D.L., hell
[Verse 2: Sesta]
I’m at the flash lab, pack blang, lit mic
Did a cool song, great hook, shit tight
You've got a shit wife, and a shit life
Said "your cat died on Facebook" - click like
[Verse 3: Hons]
Right, right, this ain't Clockwork Orange
But reeks ultra violence when the Hons jump on it
Clothes smell of vomit from a Saturday night
Full time binge drinker if the salary right
[Verse 4: Trials]
It's like Group policy, I dropped that toxic smell
Exorcist shit - your mother sucks "whats" in hell
If I’m not back in five, then turn my torrents off
Make sure my cat's all right, grab your Molotov
[Chorus 1]
Let's go on the road, three months, I'm gone
Got the shows packed out and I'm [?]
That’s classic ("Cla-classic")
That’s classic ("Cla-classic")
I've got a big fat box of free clothes that only fits
Kids so my shirt says "Peepshow" you know
That’s classic ("Cla-classic")
That’s classic ("Cla-classic")
[Verse 5: Hons]
This is champagne 'Oars in the champagne room
With a big stack of chips and a IOU
(That's classic) Party till I'm higher than Degrassi
Room start spinning, then cats try to attack me
[Verse 6: Trials]
It's like, oh no, windows up, roll past the po-po
In slo-mo, retard the beat like they were hobos
Somebody’s mother said the ‘oars don’t smash it
I've seen a kid [?] for shit, fucking classic
[Verse 7: Sesta]
Ooh, I move boom-fucking-bastic
Uh, the way you move, fucking spastic
I'm goin' crazy as a catholic
Your rhymes done stink bruv, time to turn the mattress
[Verse 8: Hons]
New sheets, same choir, old policy
Daz B, great guy, 'Oars commentary
Got a handy cam, thirty odd tour dates
Mind swept from the gutter, washed straight down the sewer scene
[Chorus 2]
When you've been up all week and working hard on your feet
To buy weed, then you park near police
Ah, man, that's classic ("Cla-classic")
That's classic ("Cla-classic")
I jumped the plane on the stage just before the show
Half the party at the club can't afford to go
Man, that's classic ("Cla-classic")
That's classic ("Cla-classic")
[Post-Chorus]
Yeah, I got Dazza on the beat, is that classic or what?
Yeah, Certified Wise, that’s classic as fuck
Adelaide, SA, home of the baddest
The Funkoars, on tour, guaranteed…oh
[Verse 9: Sesta]
I made a mess, uh, things I must confess, uh
Plus, I hate me, but to you, well I think lesser
Nonetheless, I got the home made distress-er
Bet ya, centre the room and face Mecca
[Verse 10: Hons]
Now, I better pop a Mez ‘cause I don’t trust the pilot
Card come round, I pay in silver like a pirate
Still broke, ‘Oars always go too far
Put the whole minibar on our old credit card now
[Verse 11: Trials]
I'm freaking out now, it could be the wind
Four in the front talking ‘bout the moostiest stink
Man, I'm losin' it, Mr fuckin' Trials be the pseudonym
On board the plane, I crush the Valium and hoover it go
[Verse 12: Sesta]
Then the ash cloud grounded our plane
And then the hash cloud drowning the brain
I got St. Elmo to the light up with fire, why fight it?
You like it and it’s pirated, well, why buy it? Never
[Outro]
Welcome to the worst nightmare of all
Reality
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