Can’t Hold It Back

Lyrics

[Verse 1: Esteem] On the next mission, like I'm James T. Kirk 'Cause like Barrington Levy said, yo, "every posse must work" Signed a contract with real incentives and perks And fuck a Rush Management 'cause Rush Management jerks Don't start with the Capital CPT I'm from Brooklyn and Comp' ain't jack to me Would have me think that they're in gangs and drug deals Robbed and shot still, they ain't real They fallacy be fallin' like a freeway An earthquake struck in L.A. that Monday These brothers kill me with the stories they tellin' If y'all was some real gangsters hustlin', y'all'd keep sellin' But you never had to buy no key bag You makin' it so wack I can't wear my fuckin' rag So popular, Greta, Emily, plus Hannah Be waltzin' through Wall Street wearin' pink bandanas For all of you new jackers, wiggas, crackers My shit is gettin' harder than some benched outside linebacker I bring it you, even up at Gleason's Gym You beat your sparrin' partner? I ain't him Lay back in the recliner Capture ill reminders of my wicked witty one-liners Got the knack you lack And this ain't no K-Solo's, and I can't hold it back [Chorus: Rakim sample] "Hold it back" "Hold it back" "Can't hold it back" "Hold it back" "Hold it back" "Hold it back" "Can't hold it back" "Hold it back" "Hold it back" "Hold it back" "Can't hold it back" "Hold it back" [Verse 2: Esteem] Beware of the comin 'of the lyrical invasion The whole of the wack nation, I'ma fall like I'm a precipitation The Esteem is out for no more friends, strictly enemies Competition haven't got the balls nor the testies Got the mind to withstand Central Booking in the Brownsville And Bedstuy, and these Flatbush parts of Brooklyn When I roll a spliff, the head, it must come fatty Had to roll in our section, I never did sex party Bright Like Donald Goines, from Brooklyn to say Des Moines Joins in – ya flip like coins, yo suck these loins Lose you like a Muggsy Bogues I'm sellin' like a mock, they're you sellin' you poor stoges My past Black knowledge Is more sound than what you heard from many negro black colleges Takin' a second to be candid Don't matter if you're black or white, just look at what Michael Jackson did That molestin' butthole bandit Though I've got no time for butt-kissin' Come right out dissin' you Want pot? Come to my spot You're comin' so much my spot's hot You gettin' done with the gun with a red dot Wack and there's somethin' goin' gold 'cause it's flippin' Name is Shaq, aiyyo, therefore I can't hold it back [Chorus: Rakim sample] "Can't hold it back" "Hold it back" "Hold it back" "Hold it back" "Can't hold it back" "Hold it back" "Hold it back" "Hold it back" "Can't hold it back" "Hold it back" "Hold it back" "Hold it back" "Can't hold it back" "Hold it back" "Hold it back" "Hold it back" "Can't hold it back" "Hold it back" "Hold it back" "Hold it back" "Can't hold it back" "Hold it back" "Hold it back" "Hold it back" "Can't hold it back" "Hold it back" "Hold it back" "Hold it back" "Can't hold it back" "Hold it back" "Hold it back" "Hold it back" "Can't hold it back" "Hold it back" "Hold it back" "Hold it back" [Verse 3: Esteem] Yo, as I slow shit down, you say ''Wait up" You was told yo, we da fat ones, straight up Get on any man that know that he resembles Snoopy From the Peanuts in our dishes, that's like cheddar, that's Whoopi House of Representativez, we all in the mix Gots to hold down the 4-6 like it's Fort Dix Like Ronnie Lie, I coulda hit ya with a late hits Never deficits, Esteem is filled with great wits French cookin' females with them big fat soft tits The fuck you wanna do, yo?! Yo, I ain't grow up in no hood and I ain't C.M.W.  I'll rip your studio plus my first show And diss that bitch in the front row, at the Apollo Michael's butt Yo, now it matters if he's Black since they did a raid on his nuts Real Hip-Hop's back on the map Any other than that, gonna catch the Rick Flair smack WAP! "Whoo!" Jump your system, inside session Blow up while you're steppin' now you sight my weapon Nah, you ran, you fled, you heard what the man said All who are back up in Farmers Morestead Peeps try to front like they hardcore real They ain't real just because they say they pulled out steel They fuckin' rap style's nervous, they be doin' the mic a disservice This mic's for Brian, plus Curtis Yo, I get amped when I read about a slave's tomb Can't really write, I try to come off when I hit the booms I go "pom-pom!" I give dem pon legal! Conquerin' rhymin', gonna bust you with the Desert Eagle My third eye's the star, shinin' like the five senses Vision is 20, yo, I don't need no flippin' lens Jump your bone, tell all your frat boyfriends, girlfriend I can't hold it back I can't hold it back [Outro] Recognize East Flatbush, House of Repz up in this! Stitch, Quicksta G, Foxx, Legit, Greg G, my man Payday Spence! We up in this! This is Esteem on the sign-off, what Bring it, bring that shit, bring that shit