Showing Skill by Edo. G Lyrics
Emcees wanna come around like the cipher, actin' hyper
Fuckin' with more Dangerous Minds like Michelle Pfeiffer
My shit's tight like C.Os to a lifer
I wish ya well even though I never liked ya
My crew'll be the dogs to bite ya
So moon-walk like Mike into a lover not a fighter
Cause we's about to pull a all-nighter
To make our futures much brighter, on fire like a lighter
I'm a vet not a rook, with the mental of a crook
Yo you need to make a call
Please hang up cause I'm off the hook
You shook, like you're try'na tackle *?Gimmet?*
It seems there ain't no limit to you rappers while you limit with your gimmicks
Now you the realest, plus you fearless
I'll make you feel this
I'm holdin' the cards, now here's what the deal is
Fake snakes, try to rattle me
Attempt to battle me, I speak reality
Disect they whole anatomy
Now your crew's mad at me
But here's your warning
Keepin' niggas opin like a doorman
When I'm performin'
Crackin' heads like eggs in the morning
I'll be the first to state
Every emcee today is crime related
I thank god that I made it
Without gats firin', runnin' from sirens
I'm peeing on you punks like dogs do on hydrants
Plus I'm live when I'm vibin' and rhymin'
You swimmin' in the cesspool that I never took a dive in
Plus I give my nigga fivin'
With get the good times without no jivin' (jive...)
[Hook]
"Niggas frontin' like they ill" - Mr. Cheeks [Cut/scratched x3]
"Now bustin' caps ain't got a motherfucking thing to do with showin' skill" - Mr. Cheeks
I breaks niggas like dancin', they gets no wins
Like that calibre of teams that's expansions
Holdin' crews ransome, switching styles like I'm Manson
Three-oh-fours think I'm handsome
They wanna Lex and a mansion
No Opera but I be the phantom
With the real ghetto anthem
Put they lights out
If they think that they lampin', with the Ed O or the science
Drop clients, who's reliant
Cut the ho ho hoes through cream and fiend giant
Forgot the fake fool fold
With mentals on the bank rolls
In the army clothes and corn-row
And all that hard image
Wouldn't get you ten yards from scrimage
If you's a cowboy and your name was Emmet
Cause there's a limit
A small rap room, with a million niggas in it
All you playas can't win or pin it
We keep a zone in padlock
The blocks on the 'bury be mad hot
When George couldn't see Scott
From the boat to Orchard Park
Shit be scorchin' ock
We dabble in the streets, but the beat set us apart
So why bother, to try harder
Sell your soul for a dollar, I'm a dog with a flea collar
Don't get yourself scarred like Seal
Ed O.G and Nestle comin' with the mad deal
[Hook]
"Niggas frontin' like they ill" - Mr. Cheeks [Cut/scratched x4]
"Now bustin' caps ain't got a motherfucking thing to do with showin' skill" - Mr. Cheeks
I got Faith in myself like Evans
To be above niggas like the heavens
Keep my shit rolling hittin' sevens and elevens
And those who act wild my crew be tamin' 'em
Straight gamin' 'em, your label actin' up you blamin' 'em
We on some blackmail or framin' 'em
Anybody disrespected any time believe we namin' 'em
Cause in the nine-sup, no time to sleep or half slep
Half step, not carin' 'bout your fame or rep
Cause it's all in jep
We bring it in your face you wouldn'ta heard us if we crept
For starters, we rock the hardest
Rippin' platinum artists
Pullin' them off like thigh-highs, unbuckled from the garters
Lookin' for the largest
So I can catch some charges, for killin' emcees
Who be rhyming 'bout guns drugs bitches and cheese
I know I'm better for, every other line ain't a metaphore
Strictly to the top is where the Ed O-jiggy's heading for
In my prime, time to drop like a dime
Rhyme without crime, I do it one time
[Hook]
"Niggas frontin' like they ill" - Mr. Cheeks [Cut/scratched x7]
"Now bustin' caps ain't got a motherfucking thing to do with showin' skill" - Mr. Cheeks
Fuckin' with more Dangerous Minds like Michelle Pfeiffer
My shit's tight like C.Os to a lifer
I wish ya well even though I never liked ya
My crew'll be the dogs to bite ya
So moon-walk like Mike into a lover not a fighter
Cause we's about to pull a all-nighter
To make our futures much brighter, on fire like a lighter
I'm a vet not a rook, with the mental of a crook
Yo you need to make a call
Please hang up cause I'm off the hook
You shook, like you're try'na tackle *?Gimmet?*
It seems there ain't no limit to you rappers while you limit with your gimmicks
Now you the realest, plus you fearless
I'll make you feel this
I'm holdin' the cards, now here's what the deal is
Fake snakes, try to rattle me
Attempt to battle me, I speak reality
Disect they whole anatomy
Now your crew's mad at me
But here's your warning
Keepin' niggas opin like a doorman
When I'm performin'
Crackin' heads like eggs in the morning
I'll be the first to state
Every emcee today is crime related
I thank god that I made it
Without gats firin', runnin' from sirens
I'm peeing on you punks like dogs do on hydrants
Plus I'm live when I'm vibin' and rhymin'
You swimmin' in the cesspool that I never took a dive in
Plus I give my nigga fivin'
With get the good times without no jivin' (jive...)
[Hook]
"Niggas frontin' like they ill" - Mr. Cheeks [Cut/scratched x3]
"Now bustin' caps ain't got a motherfucking thing to do with showin' skill" - Mr. Cheeks
I breaks niggas like dancin', they gets no wins
Like that calibre of teams that's expansions
Holdin' crews ransome, switching styles like I'm Manson
Three-oh-fours think I'm handsome
They wanna Lex and a mansion
No Opera but I be the phantom
With the real ghetto anthem
Put they lights out
If they think that they lampin', with the Ed O or the science
Drop clients, who's reliant
Cut the ho ho hoes through cream and fiend giant
Forgot the fake fool fold
With mentals on the bank rolls
In the army clothes and corn-row
And all that hard image
Wouldn't get you ten yards from scrimage
If you's a cowboy and your name was Emmet
Cause there's a limit
A small rap room, with a million niggas in it
All you playas can't win or pin it
We keep a zone in padlock
The blocks on the 'bury be mad hot
When George couldn't see Scott
From the boat to Orchard Park
Shit be scorchin' ock
We dabble in the streets, but the beat set us apart
So why bother, to try harder
Sell your soul for a dollar, I'm a dog with a flea collar
Don't get yourself scarred like Seal
Ed O.G and Nestle comin' with the mad deal
[Hook]
"Niggas frontin' like they ill" - Mr. Cheeks [Cut/scratched x4]
"Now bustin' caps ain't got a motherfucking thing to do with showin' skill" - Mr. Cheeks
I got Faith in myself like Evans
To be above niggas like the heavens
Keep my shit rolling hittin' sevens and elevens
And those who act wild my crew be tamin' 'em
Straight gamin' 'em, your label actin' up you blamin' 'em
We on some blackmail or framin' 'em
Anybody disrespected any time believe we namin' 'em
Cause in the nine-sup, no time to sleep or half slep
Half step, not carin' 'bout your fame or rep
Cause it's all in jep
We bring it in your face you wouldn'ta heard us if we crept
For starters, we rock the hardest
Rippin' platinum artists
Pullin' them off like thigh-highs, unbuckled from the garters
Lookin' for the largest
So I can catch some charges, for killin' emcees
Who be rhyming 'bout guns drugs bitches and cheese
I know I'm better for, every other line ain't a metaphore
Strictly to the top is where the Ed O-jiggy's heading for
In my prime, time to drop like a dime
Rhyme without crime, I do it one time
[Hook]
"Niggas frontin' like they ill" - Mr. Cheeks [Cut/scratched x7]
"Now bustin' caps ain't got a motherfucking thing to do with showin' skill" - Mr. Cheeks