Lyrics:
tracks
Have to go back and stack 'cause they lack
The ingredients EPMD and Scratch for that
Yo, I'm the hip-hopper, plus the show shocker
Down with MD,
tracks
Have to go back and stack 'cause they lack
The ingredients EPMD and Scratch for that
Yo, I'm the hip-hopper, plus the show shocker
Down with MD, yes
for me with her right hand on the good book
Saw shots fly by me, no, I shouldn't been trippin'
The Pulp Fiction must have been God's divine intervention
and again
Never leave the lane, never show your pain
Never show the toil
I will never fall and
By skill I will survive
When the enemy attacks you must stay
me offensive
Hence, if I should draw the line or any fences
If so, to what extents, if
Any, should I go? 'Cause it's getting expensive
Being
Pshhh
I got a lot going on
No matter what happens, the show must go on
A mama's boy without a mom
But still, I gotta stay strong
Yeah, but if you
I take it day by day, day by day
Really Hope no goofy niggas don't come my way
Finger Inching
Like teacher in class how Ima dismiss em
Life they say
Lil' Flip]
I told niggas I show niggas, I'm the best
I'm the shit in New York, but I'm a God on the West (holla!)
I must confess, 'The Source' own me two
If I lay low and let the day go it'll slow my payroll
Aye-yo I'm a terrorize charge and slay shows
Ra slay flows go as far as the Barbados
and rose, cause New York niggas
Actin spoiled at shows, to the winners the spoils go
I take the L, transfer to the 2, head to the gates
New York life type
I'm motherfucking chicken-shit
To the ones that's tryna play the E
By the time you get to seven, you'll be six feet deep
Number Eight: Make no
you keep am our love go be sweet yupa yupa yupa
Alright!
Number one you must never never get another boyfriend unless me
Number two you must never never
with you
The Casanova legend must have been true"
I said, "By the way, baby, what's your name?"
Said, "I go by name of Lois Lane
And you could be my
, let's go, yo
Where your girlfriend go
You wanted this to happen, so
You know I had to go and put on a show
Woah, switching the flow man I row like a boat
the braids
Met you on the east side and became your sex slave
Know I'm straight up out da A
The home of the brave
7 months passed by and you still on my wave
I'm motherfucking chicken-shit
To the ones that's tryna play the E
By the time you get to seven, you'll be six feet deep
Number Eight: Make no
an audience to a show is a task out of sight
Why would anyone pay 7 quid to see my show standing on a beer-flooded floor
When they can see me for free the next
you how to be like you,
But you still didn't get where you wanted to go
When you gathered in a group and got your own show
'Cause without
to sleep
Only for Americans
A Frenchman wouldn't be impressed
To see a show with girls undressed
That's only for Americans
The French don't go
on her back say I'm ready to go
Man this girl must be the pimp the way I'm ready to hoe
I wanna take you out the ghetto girl around the globe
Getting
(TAHH YUH)
(BETTER GET UP NIGGA)
(Ima go out and get it)
Don't need anybody, do it by myself
Got too much honey stack it on the shelf
That ho too
see the agony of absolute power?
And why I must remember precision in all I do?
And the only way I do this is by the magnitude in which I treasure you?!
They must've forgot I'm an artist
This ain't spoken word or poetry
Still going back to back they knows it's me
Go from track to track reload the beat
Seven hundred miles to play to fifteen angry men.
I need some sleep.
They hate the songs.
We hate them too. Yeah.
This show is free.
Fifteen minutes
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