Showbiz & A.G.
Showbiz & A.G. - Add On songtekst
Je score:
[Lord Finesse] It's Lord Finesse the rhyme vet Like Bigge I'm "Ready to Die" but it ain't my fucking time yet I bring the noise like static I cause havoc When I grab the mic I pack a party like traffic You know my style I got the hip sound I should be a construction worker the way I be tearing shit down One of the best you ought to shout it Bust a nigga's ass and won't give two thoughts about it Word, I hunt you down I got a million reasons why none of you can fuck around I slay beginners, sautee contenders Shit, and be damned if I don't walk away the winner I kick facts, flip raps over hip tracks You know what I'm saying? (Yeah, I can dig that) I'm gifted, my rhyme is wicked When it comes to knowledge, I got jewels like the Diamond District I'm the dopest, the baddest, one of the fattest Chickenheads know my status For those that's waiting to doubt I'm a play like Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth and "Straighten it Out" Ayo Show, my man (Add on, add on!) A.G. my man (Add on, add on!) Ayo Show my man (Add on, add on!) D-Flow my man (Add on, add on!) [D-Flow] Check it, I got the herb to bomb your brain I'm a threat like Saddam Huessein, niggas better know my name I flow the same in a competition I break them clowns into something different, buck 'em with the fucking Smith & Wesson, MC's never leave my section Finger on the trigger, I figure I kill that nigga for stepping I tote the four-fifth, riff and get your jaw shift Flip phones and add jewels got me looking gorgeous Ignore the style and get bucked down, child With the three-pound pile, BLOW! How you like me now? The new improved Flow, you know how I do so Whatever, a motherfucking terror like Cujo I'm out to get mine, I want mils, God Niggas that feel hard chill, fuck around and get your grill scarred It's D-Flow, you know my steelo, ceelo will let you know how we go Chop him like a kilo and let him die [A.G.] And then I'm a add on like arithmetic Suckers careers get stopped so stop who you riffing with I'm on point with the snakes and fakes Ain't the one (Think I am?) You get hung like drapes And it's proven, point blank that's the conclusion Seeing me losing, it's all an illusion Like the raw ism, I'm a kiss him when I hurt him Then desert him, because the Show & A.G. shit is sickening Giving stress to them snakes is a ritual Nights and north flakes, oh yes, they bless the physical Promote the glock? No I'm not I use it as an art, ain't got the heart to disrespect hip-hop Time to breeze, now I'm gone, the Greats is rolling strong So add on and on Ayo Show, my man (Add on, add on!) A.G. my man (Add on, add on!) Ayo Show my man (Add on, add on!) D-Flow my man (Add on, add on