SHOW & A.G. - Next Level lyrics

rate me

All I see is blinkin' lights track boards and fat mics

950's SP12's MP60's

Shit is thumping ear drums pumpin'

The shit is tight right 'cause the sample is tight right

Right that's one to leave teethless

Never sweat that 'cause I'm a cool cat just like Heathcliff

Peep this give up the loop

It's 94 and bitch ass niggas getting still with the boot

the north flakes 'cause I'll be flowing in all states

Show kept diggin' and diggin' and now he got more crates

that's right nigga roll that dime and I'm

the only living matter that controls my mind

peace to every single rapper on this whole earth

sellout's got no worth I think they better go soul searching...

Showbiz... A.G. (brothers can't believe how the skills have gotten)

Showbiz... A.G. (brothers can't believe how the skills have gotten)

Now here I go again ready to flow again

And if the course stay clear oh yeah I'm still going in

Get it together or you'll be laying on a stretcher

I betcha I'm a getcha the number one heart stresser

Sorry black that's right it's a cardiac

caress try to triple be the best then where's party at

Law's to no one and a warrior like Shogun

And when the show's done stacks and stacks is how the O's come

I bouge your feeling confidence is to the ceiling

If I'm sick I pick the chick for sexual healing

I'm unique a freak like Malik

In the twilights with more highlights than Dominique

Around my boys is where the jail stops

The jeeps the streets my peeps in the cell block

I'm not the best but I keep it stressed

To flatter me is strategy it gotta be more complex than chess

Stop bluffin cause you ain't saying nothing G

start duckin I'm the A to the fuckin G

Last LP we got down right

Showing all these corny motherfuckers what hip-hop's supposed to sound like

See A.G. and the brother Show

Quiet as kept is best that you step on the low

Well it's me meaning the A to the dash

I'm fast to get the cash now I'm going like the path

What's the remedy suckas better get their own identity

And took the enemy you better roll like it's Cannamy

Fake lords they get strangled with mic cords

Taking beats from my LP for sure ain't healthy

Madison Projects is where I rest

But I claim the whole planet it's mine god dammit

I'm God rip the bulla fake brother hard

Wrecked Boston running shit in Portland like Rod

It's hard to face the feet when you're raised in the street

No surrender with no retreat

Now dance with the devil no not hardly

Even though I mamba like La Bamba and smoke ganja like Bob Marley

A bag of sess puts me at my rest

You say it's silly, that's my theory

Get the philly and let it rest

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