[Skillz] Ohh! Uh-uh, yeah Pressure, pressure time (uh-huh) Can I get the Congregation (yeah) to put ya hands together (Got the pressure on ya) Uh.. uh-huh, uh.. uh-huh Skillz (uh-huh) E.C. (uh-huh) Uh-huh, yeah, uh Yo yo yo If you was blind to the fact, then soon you'll see Half of these rappers couldn't run through me I'm from a place where outta state niggaz hide they rough You believe in spirits, I'll put you inside ya'self Ya hatin, I'm changin up the course again Now ya like, "Damn, how he get up in The Source again?" Man these so-called rappers is gettin real sloppy Labels callin me, just wishin they could stop me Meanwhile I'm spittin at a chick in the lobby Two-tone Timbs, lookin like chicken and broccoli Rap cats don't got what they need to stop me Kick yo' ass and then we cool like Apollo and Rocky My vacancy figures, hold my ground Whole state-a niggaz, love the way I hold 'em down Over your track, I'll floor ya Have ya producer callin you like, "I got another one for ya" [Hook x2] So what's this? - The reason you ain't seein me Now who are you? - Come on now, ya favorite emcee Relax ya'self and let ya conscious be free, and get down to the sounds of the D.I.C. [Verse 2] Yo my name, a name all crews'll know Everytime I spit, your label lose some dough So if y'all move three, we movin fo' Fuck rap, I bruise mics and that's right from the do' See it's like, I'm bout these hits strictly (Say what?) These haters out here don't hit me, they gon' get wit me You don't know a nigga breathin that's gonna out spit me I got news for these lil' crews out to get me I'm like easy pass before I drop I might slow down, but I don't have to stop You wanna see somethin hot, well pass the rock You don't have to be turbo for yo' ass to get popped Keep the stash in the spot while you hittin the leaf Fuck makin it hot, I make it like fish grease Timbs slick with the crease, get around that And once I bounce on the beat, it ain't bouncin back [Hook x2] [Verse 3] Aiyyo I'm Skillz dawg, the steel I be breakin I don't give a fuck about the shit y'all makin My crew spit nice and still get mean Pop the clip out the mic and spit sixteen Cats talk their head off for like an hour and shit Niggaz be ridin ya sack and wanna borrow ya dick Whoever y'all think nice, I heard of 'em all Name ya top three rappers, I'll murder 'em all Probably caught me at a light sittin low to the ground Told ya girl, "Aww he act like he don't know me now" Any city you can visit, I tore that down Way above yours, that's where my flow at now If I ever need loot, I long for figures I'm in the parkin booth, ghostwritin songs for niggaz Chicks call me a pigeon, but they ain't wrong Cuz at any given time, they could get shitted on Beats get spitted on, courtesy of Shaquan I'ma keep talkin shit till y'all prove me wrong Oh you still doin songs? It's all for nothin All you gon' ever get from me is the fast-forward button [Hook x2] [scratched samples] "Here's what it is.." "..Iz is the real" "Here's what it is.." "..Iz is the real" [music to fade]
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Copy to Clipboard: [Skillz] Ohh! Uh-uh, yeah Pressure, pressure time (uh-huh) Can I get the Congregation (yeah) to put ya hands together (Got the pressure on ya) Uh.. uh-huh, uh.. uh-huh Skillz (uh-huh) E.C. (uh-huh) Uh-huh, yeah, uh Yo yo yo If you was blind to the fact, then soon you'll see Half of these rappers couldn't run through me I'm from a place where outta state niggaz hide they rough You believe in spirits, I'll put you inside ya'self Ya hatin, I'm changin up the course again Now ya like, "Damn, how he get up in The Source again?" Man these so-called rappers is gettin real sloppy Labels callin me, just wishin they could stop me Meanwhile I'm spittin at a chick in the lobby Two-tone Timbs, lookin like chicken and broccoli Rap cats don't got what they need to stop me Kick yo' ass and then we cool like Apollo and Rocky My vacancy figures, hold my ground Whole state-a niggaz, love the way I hold 'em down Over your track, I'll floor ya Have ya producer callin you like, "I got another one for ya" [Hook x2] So what's this? - The reason you ain't seein me Now who are you? - Come on now, ya favorite emcee Relax ya'self and let ya conscious be free, and get down to the sounds of the D.I.C. [Verse 2] Yo my name, a name all crews'll know Everytime I spit, your label lose some dough So if y'all move three, we movin fo' Fuck rap, I bruise mics and that's right from the do' See it's like, I'm bout these hits strictly (Say what?) These haters out here don't hit me, they gon' get wit me You don't know a nigga breathin that's gonna out spit me I got news for these lil' crews out to get me I'm like easy pass before I drop I might slow down, but I don't have to stop You wanna see somethin hot, well pass the rock You don't have to be turbo for yo' ass to get popped Keep the stash in the spot while you hittin the leaf Fuck makin it hot, I make it like fish grease Timbs slick with the crease, get around that And once I bounce on the beat, it ain't bouncin back [Hook x2] [Verse 3] Aiyyo I'm Skillz dawg, the steel I be breakin I don't give a fuck about the shit y'all makin My crew spit nice and still get mean Pop the clip out the mic and spit sixteen Cats talk their head off for like an hour and shit Niggaz be ridin ya sack and wanna borrow ya dick Whoever y'all think nice, I heard of 'em all Name ya top three rappers, I'll murder 'em all Probably caught me at a light sittin low to the ground Told ya girl, "Aww he act like he don't know me now" Any city you can visit, I tore that down Way above yours, that's where my flow at now If I ever need loot, I long for figures I'm in the parkin booth, ghostwritin songs for niggaz Chicks call me a pigeon, but they ain't wrong Cuz at any given time, they could get shitted on Beats get spitted on, courtesy of Shaquan I'ma keep talkin shit till y'all prove me wrong Oh you still doin songs? It's all for nothin All you gon' ever get from me is the fast-forward button [Hook x2] [scratched samples] "Here's what it is.." "..Iz is the real" "Here's what it is.." "..Iz is the real" [music to fade]
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