- 40 acres and my props 歌詞 Showbiz & A.G.
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- Showbiz & A.G. 40 acres and my props 歌詞
- Showbiz & A.G.
- Showbiz got props, tell me who got the props
A.G. got props, tell me who got the props
Give me my props for 92
Its me and
Showbiz, and this is what we gonna do
Give you some now, save some for later
Heres a portion, yo
Show, kick the flavor [Showbiz]
Record labels try and juice me (for what?) for my papers
The offer me a mule (and what else?) and 40 acres
Im dissing snakes now, theres no time to catch the vapors
Im not a pup (for what?) a
Muppet caper
And all the ghetto groupies get free with the quickness
And Show concentrates and only thinks about business
I hate a sellout cause he puts me in a rage
I play KRS and throw that ass off the stage
So give me my props cause
I always stay clever
And aint nothing changd but the weather
Get your act together, cause
I got mines together
Dont front on the brother with the
Pelle Pelle leather
Im Show B-
I-Z, my partners
A.G. Chill with
Greg N-I-C-
E or my brother
D-R-E-S And whats up to
Lord Finesse
And Id like to give shouts to my peeps
Shorty and
Wes People say
Im soup, crazy cash
I recoup Nowadays
I just troop in my green
Legend coupe [A.G.]
Record companies try to juice me for my papers
They offer me a mule and about 40 acres
They try ot gain from my royalties
Push me towards the dotted line but you know
I didnt sign
Labels know straight up when we meet
Interfere with my career and its back to the streets
Bang bang or the pow pow
I settle the beef the best way
I know how
Release the savage beast if
Im not taking care
Rap is my career and its my only way outta here
Every chance
I do damage
And I manage to use all the anger to my advantage
All that is cool, but my brain is the tool
Gimme my props so we all can rule
Dont show off my skills,
I just sprinkle em
And youre sleeping on my props, wake up before you wrinkle them
Gimme my props yo , more than a cop yo
Til I master hip-hop,
I wont stop yo (Repeat 4x) [Showbiz]
The say BM
Ws a Black
Mans Wish
I wish for an
SP-1200 and some discs
Negativity the least, my materials is cease
Saying peace to the brothers in the belly of the beast
People saying 'Why Show wanna rhyme?'
I didnt wanna get back and do
Fed time I wanna live right and exact,
I dont wanna be the fat cat
Off the crack and have the
Feds down my back
If the moneys stacked, take a step back, black
Or youll be wearing four four numbers like a quarterback
I was raised one deep by mom dukes and no dad
And now I grab a #2 pencil and a pad
Or Erasermate if
I make mistakes
I erase And me a
Diamond go diggin in the crates (Wheres my 40 acres?)
Not the projects of course
I asked for a mule,
I got an iron horse
**** goes on as the song plays
Can a devil fool a
Muslim? Nah, not nowadays [A.G.]
On your mark, get set, pass the 40, lets jet
A fat rhyme is what you want, a fat rhyme is what youll get
Its thorough, from begining to end
The beat is fat, what can
I say? Show you did it again
I got the hat on my head,
Pepes on my behind
Fans on my back, and money on my mind
I dont sweat the stress, take the bitter with the sweet
Did I let you know
I have the
Tims on my feet?
You know my stats when
I came around
Saying 'Damn hes living fat' when
I havent even gained a pound
Friends til the end, never will
I diss ya
My peoples
R.I.P., you know
Im gonna miss ya 40 acres and my props, the name of the song
A.G. is saying peace and
Im gone Gimme my props yo, more than a cop yo
Til I master hip-hop,
I wont stop yo (Repeat 4x)
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