Show & Prove

Lyrics

[Scratches: DJ Premier] Bust a move, we show and prove Bust a move, we show and prove Bust a move, we show and prove Bust a move, we show and prove [Verse 1: Scoob] Haha, hey, hey, laugh now, nigga My man's right behind you, Kane, pull the trigger I don't play, I'm from the hill where shit is real And I'll be on your ass like bugs on a windshield So bring your grip or you can think twice 'Cause I got more rhymes than a five pound bag of rice I'm hitting hard, oh word, I'm gon' rock it Once the shit drops, that's dough to the pocket I cut hair and you still can't get no part You couldn't deal with Scoob if we was playing cards But if I got beef then it's time for code red My gun is like a ho, it be taking mad niggas to bed So hurry up and skedaddle Even if you join the army, you still couldn't battle So where you from? England, you somebody great? You burning Scoob, "I don't think so mate" I got the style that get you open like a bag of smoke I'll have your friends saying "Ah man, that shit is dope" Leave me alone when I'm rocking on the microphone And play like E.T. and phone your black ass home Yo, Sauce, if you're down with the groove Get on the mic and won't ya show and prove [Verse 2: Sauce Money] Hey, here I come with a slick rap, tic-tac-toe When I flip tracks, so gimme my dick, back I flow to it and through it, if you ever need to wonder How you got dope like Sauce Money, you didn't do it I write my own with bigger hope, drink of Scope Wrote what I figured, nope, damn, you dig a nigga doe Rhymes too drastic, bastard, pull hookers like elastic NBA style, fantastic No time to bite, but I just might, tonight I write left-handed' cause I like to grab my dick with my right Who could ever say that I don't get plenty play Win lose or draw, I'm booking whores, anyway As I get ready, I'm steady, if I go crazy, I'd take Eddie If I was Fred, I think I'd have to bone Betty Sucking and lucking, hey, niggas I'm ducking, nay Nada, no, never, meaning ain't no motherfuckin' way Rappers get gassed, come on and get fast Try to get past when I blast, and you can hand over your ass One line and that's fear Rappers get so damn pussy they gotta go for a pap smear So Shyheim, if you're down with the groove Get on the mic it's time to show and prove [Verse 3: Shyheim] I spark the mic like weed that's in a cipher And I get girls open like a reggae song by Tiger So check me out, as I flip this here track kid And make mad noise like a Metallica record I'm psycho, a villain to the styles I be killing When I'm thrusted, and all competition gets dusted 'Cause I rock the world from U.S.A. to Asia to Russia If your shit stinks, I'ma flush ya then bust ya Like a crazy man from Cali, son My jams be packed like a Farrakhan rally, what? You know my style, I put the F in effin foul The Rugged Child lock shit down like Rikers Isle And got more girls than a trailer load with Shabba More Super than Cat, I'm the punani Don Dada So Big Daddy, if you're down with the groove my man Get on the mic and won't ya show and prove [Verse 4: Big Daddy Kane] Now tell me, who is the man? With the high-potent lyrics no rapper can ever stand And stepping to me, thinking I can be touched? Not even Michael Jordan'll gamble that much, yo I get down on it and give it to rappers that even act like they want it I come for your title kid, run it! Or else get hit with the ultimate, too legit skit Aw yeah, that's that shit Drop lyrics on ya, strong as ammonia That'll dethrone ya, scorn ya, joan ya, I tried to warn ya You was wack since I known ya, fake as a cubic zirconia What I just shown ya, real lyrics doggone ya Look inside my rap book at every text my man And see that I got, more essays than the Mexican The Messiah that's feared great, leaving rappers in a weird state Scared straight, for their prepared fate Strong as an elephant, intelligent, compelling and elegant So well in it with every single element And competition gets none If I was wearing pantyhose, you still couldn't give me no run I see the way you're trying to get to me But with that speech impedi-ment, man, you gotta come better, G You're hitting all the wrong switches troop begin again Mumble mouth rappers couldn't last a minute with The non-resistable, non-competible No, no, no, I'm not saying I'm the best I'm just saying I'm fucking incredible And let's just make one more thing understood That if I fart on a record, trust me, nigga, it'll sound good So Jay-Z, if you're down with the groove, my mellow Get on the mic, it's time to show and prove [Verse 5: JAY-Z] One checking it two, checking it three Check out the J, check out the A, check out the Y, check out the Z Aight, G! I'm breaking MC's up like EPMD And these nuts if you rappers trying to see me I'm buckwild with styles, ta-dow I've been in it running a hundred miles, I'm well endowed, baby gal Uh, the greatest nigga to touch it, you niggas can't fuck with The incredible skills of the G from Brooklyn, big up, kid And ain't no eating me up, you fast fuckin' with Jigga I'm like Prince jeans, I bring the ass out a nigga When I rock it, it's in the pocket, baby, mop it, don't knock it 'Til you try it, once you start, you can't stop it I'm the cocky breed, I'm dope like poppy seed I live one rent from besides that be Between get off my dick and stop jockin' me When I bust a rhyme, you're diggin the sound I know you loving the way it's goin' down, baby So Ason, huh, if you're down with the groove, why don't ya Get on the mic and show and prove [Verse 6: Ol' Dirty Bastard] Come on Wu-Tang killa bees on a swarm Rain on your college ass, disco dorm Slippery when wet and don't you ever forget You couldn't get a flick, of the hype outfit Because the way that I dress this style mad wild Enough to make a crowd of women scream "Ow!" Whether at a party or just in bed All thoughts on Ason, keep that in your head Yeah, my beats are funky and my rhymes are spunky Sometimes I'll be like "Well, goddamn, what's the recipe?" I don't know, I ask my momma, she don't know She says "Go ask your goddamn father!" It's all about me in the place to be Niggas think they all that, yo, that shit is G Mad game and it's a motherfucking shame How many enemies wanna claim the name Of Ason, who carries on like a manager Yo! Sounds fly, right? Danger!!!