Next Level

Lyrics

[Intro] Showbiz! A.G.! Showbiz! A.G.! Showbiz! A.G.! [Verse 1: A.G.] All I see is blinkin' lights, track boards and phat mics 950's, SP12's, MP60's Shit is thumpin', eardrums pumpin' The shit is type hype 'cause the sample is tight, right? Bite this one and leave teethless Never sweat that, 'cause I'm a cool cat just like Heathcliff Peep this — give up the loot It's '94 and bitch-ass niggas, yeah, they still get the boot The Northlakes 'cause I be flowin' in all states Show kept diggin' and diggin', now he got more crates That's right, nigga, roll that dime And I'm the only livin' matter that controls my mind Peace to every single rapper on this whole Earth Sellouts got no worth, I think they better go soul search [Hook x2] Showbiz! A.G.! (Brothers can't believe how the skills have gotten) [Verse 2: A.G.] Now, here I go again, ready to flow again And if the coast ain't clear, oh, yeah, I'm still goin' in Get it together or you'll be layin' on a stretcher I betcha I'mma getcha, the number one heart stresser Sorry, black! That's right, it's a cardiac arrest Try to triple team the best? Then where's Party at? Lost to no one, a warrior like Shogun And when the show's done Stacks and stacks is how the hoes come I bruise your feelings, confidence is to the ceiling If I'm sick, I pick a chick for sexual healings I'm unique, a freak like Malik In the twilights with more highlights than Dominique Around my boys is where the jel' stops Ups to the streets, the Jeeps, my peeps in the cell blocks I'm not the best, but I give you stress To flatter me, your strategy gotta be more complex than chess Stop bluffin' 'cause you ain't sayin' nothin', G! And start duckin', I'm the A-to-the-fuckin'-G! Last LP, we got down right Showed all these corny motherfuckers What hip-hop's supposed to sound like See A.G. and the brother Show Quiet as kept, it's best that you step on the low! [Hook] Showbiz! A.G.! (Brothers can't believe how the skills have gotten) Showbiz! A.G.! (Brothers can't believe how the skills have gotten) Showbiz! (Brothers can't-can't believe how-how the skills have gotten) Showbiz! A.G.! (Brothers can't believe how the skills have gotten) [Verse 3: A.G.] Well, it's me, meanin' the A-to-the-dash I'm fast to get the cash, now I'm goin' like the past What's the remedy? Suckers better get they own identity And to the enemy, you better roll like it's ten of me Fake lords — they get strangled with mic cords Takin' beats from my LP for sure ain't healthy! Patterson Projects is where I rest But I claim the whole planet 'cause it's mine, goddamn it I'm God! Quick to pull a fake brother card Wrecked Boston, runnin' shit in Portland like Rod It's hard to face defeat when you're raised in the street No surrender and no retreat Now, dance with the devil? No, not hardly Even though I mamba like La Bamba And smoke ganja like Bob Marley A bag of sess puts me at my rest You say it's silly? That's my theory Hit the Philly and let it rest [Hook] Showbiz! A.G.! (Brothers can't believe how the skills have gotten) Showbiz! A.G.! (Brothers can't believe how the skills have gotten) Showbiz! (Brothers can't-can't believe how-how the skills have gotten) Showbiz! A.G.! (Brothers can't believe how the skills have gotten) Showbiz! A.G.! Showbiz! A.G.! Showbiz! A.G.! Showbiz! A.G.!