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