Showbiz & A.g. - Got The Flava Lyrics
Chorus:Show & a.g. got the flavas (the flavas)Rollin with the dwellas and the neighbors (the neighbors)Show & a.g. got the flavas (the flavas)Rollin with the dwellas and the neighbors (the neighbors)[d. flow]Hey yo no question Im the best in this rap businessNo doubt Im strapped, get back or get clapped rediculous sonIm flippin this one (dont be dumb)You better run or end up like my last victimShit thats real I already been throughScared from the threats I sent you (its all in the mental)Jackin niggas like Im in the centralCuttin through that ass like a ginsu as I commense toGet big with my nigs, a.g. & showbizNow your idol was doin vital damage to your ribsWord straight up and down, crab mcs get crushedIll leave your style cramped, my crew cant be touchedSo when you hear the bomb you know its d. flow sonNo one can ***** around, yeah thats right (no one)[wali world]Hey yo the honies on the dilz cause I play ball good (its all good)Im still representin the hoodBig shouts to uncle pete, youre my number one neighborNo doubt Im puffin later with my nigga gary aidaPeace to roc raider and all the goodfellasPeople gettin jealous, well its the brothers (the brothers)On some other shit cant forget shabazzRepresentin not to mention that Im gettin cashGet with that or get with this because Im kickin thisWith the styles Im runnin through niggas like emmit smith[party arty]Touchdown, I buck down mcs that step up10 gs if you wanna mc wrecked upThe ghetto dwellas in your hood, hoodie downStomps from the bronx, the boogie man from the boogie downMomma never told me there would be days like thisThat Id be rippin tracks, gettin paid with my nigsOn tour, roar with that hardcore stuffNiggas call bluffs (I give em no chance) I make it more rough(and even slow dance) on niggas faces, rugged, ***** itThem niggas got to love it cause we made thisIm gettin papers with my peepsAs party arty keeps bacardi so mcs meet the shotty[a.g.]Check the method but dont sweat the techniqueEven made the baddest dime *****es get weak when the vets speak(hopin) that your head meets my bed sheets(now youre open) like the red sea cause Im potentDont fit? dont force it, flow got that 4-fifthWho do with that voodoo, my doll its that cordlessAll this and that and then someGet paid to put raps on tracks, I guess thats my incomeThe beat chills so they be comin back for refills(my man shows his street skills) from here to the peekskillsKill the rumors, givin mcs brain tumorsTime to step off the set, gotta jet like pumaChorus (2x)[method man]What the blood clot, son lick a shot, show your love in the areaForget me not, mass hysteriaMy style revolves around blunts, the methicalThe one and only piece original, never phonyOne love to my mutha*****er a.g.A true giant in the industry, hold your shoes up(word to god, youknowimsayin)Yeah, thats how its goin down, you know who got the flavaWe got the flava, the flavaSo bring it on, so bring it on, all you mutha*****in corns, yeah
