The Pressure

Lyrics

[Intro: Phonte] Uh, uh, uh Uh, uh, let it, bounce Uh, uh, uh Uh, uh, let it, bounce You know sometimes a nigga get tired of always Talkin' about shit he ain't got, milkin' on shit (let it, bounce) You just gotta make use of what you got here, man We right here doin' it (let it bounce) [Verse 1: Phonte] Use to wish on a star that I'd have big awards Big plaques on the wall, everything that gleam Lamp shades, backstage, til this nigga ask me "'Te, would you work ten years for your dream?" Seven years later, now I see just what he mean 'Cause this is real life and I live it kinda regular Got a house, got a car, got a wife, 'plauding ya'll Big Dho, manager, H.O.J's the team You can say I'm satisfied, though I often analyze Why this rap shit rip my heart at the seams This ain't time to fantasize, I'm not a whippersnapper I'm trying to get these crackers for all of they cream Like Dairy Queen or Häagen-Dazs, 'cause the rap audience Like the way I handle bars, Like it was the Tour de France Oh so easily, just like Sheila E When she was singing Hollyrock, oh, check out the scene We ain't got no time for your bullshit schemes Cuz once Tay begins (-gins), they say the pen Is much bigger than a sword and I'm like a lyrical Lance-A-Lot I ain't gotta dance a lot, check the way I lean [Chorus: Rapper Big Pooh & Phonte] Yes, yes, now! You now rockin' wit' the muh'fuckin' best now Think of fuckin' wit the team, I suggest not Real shit, you can feel it in your chest, now Got y'all feelin' the pressure Uh, got ya'll feelin' the pressure Phonte feelin' the pressure, feelin the pressure Got ya'll feelin' the pressure Big Pooh feelin' the pressure, so feel the pressure [Verse 2: Rapper Big Pooh] Niggas block, women jock, on your cock, round the clock Get it, get it, don't stop, catch you on the rise Made a lil' dough in this rap game slow Ain't seen my video, so they swear I'm movin' pies Old whip, new kicks, few flicks, same chick New picks, same bitch, no I'm not a star Let my hair grow, put my mic game down This the third time round, I'm shootin for a par We came this far, and no one assisted Co-signed or enlisted, like we ain't gifted We be gettin' lifted of the beats and drank liquor We call women hoes, that's if the name fits Put me in the box, I ain't wrappin' up shit Made music my career, some of y'all just spit Homie, just sit back, pay attention Oh, forgot to mention Hall of Justus is the click! [Chorus: Rapper Big Pooh & Phonte] Yes, yes, now! You now rockin' wit' the muh'fuckin' best now Think of fuckin' wit the team, I suggest not Real shit, you can feel it in your chest, now Got y'all feelin' the pressure Uh, got ya'll feelin' the pressure Phonte feelin' the pressure, feelin the pressure Got ya'll feelin' the pressure Big Pooh feelin' the pressure, so feel the pressure [Outro: Rapper Big Pooh (Phonte)] Can you feel that? Haha That tight grip around your neck, nigga (Let it, bounce) That's pressure nigga Shit, that's pressure nigga (Let it, bounce)