Show 'em How We Do Things Lyrics - Lord Finesse

Aw yeah, I got brothers from around the way in the house, you 

Know what I'm saying? Yo check it out, check it out 

I got my man Shel-Rumble in the house 

I got my man Harry-O in the house 

I got my man Rock-A-Lot in the house 

Yo, yo, we gonna do it like this, check it out 

I know some brothers with the skills to rock right 

Problem is they don't be getting no spotlight 

They got potential as good as any others 

So I'm a take time out to kick it with them brothers 

They brothers are professional, crazy intellectual 

Just some fellas I got to give credit to 

They rolling strong, know right from wrong 

They got skills, so I got to put 'em on 

So Shel-Rumble (what's up?) Since this is a three man crew thing 

Put down the 40 and show 'em how we do things 

Shel-Rumble, yeah, that's the name 

I'm a kick this off just like a football game 

I'm stepping out with my mic in my right hand 

Bagging up rappers and throwing their rhymes in the trash can 

They play the roll like they hard but yet they sit off 

Put me against the best and I'll still get my shit off 

I'm like Simon so you'd better do what Simon says 

I'm not Christopher Williams, but yo, I'm making promises 

My style's treacherous, it's so impetuous 

I'll go all out if a chump tries to step to this 

So hear the flavor through the speakers 

I get the ladies strung just like sneakers 

I'm a brother who's too hard to touch 

Cause if you try my crew we'll jump in just like double dutch 

You'll get bombarded if you come unprepared son 

Cause yo (there's no such thing as a fair one) 

So step, to avoid a fucking crack tooth 

Rhymes are insulated, that means I'm wack proof 

You're just the opposite, you're nothing but a small fry 

Weak MC coming up for a black guy 

So don't provoke a saga 

Cause you'll catch amnesia just like the central park jogger 

That's what happens when cases gets drastic 

I'll give you two options, step or get that ass kicked 

So, jot this down before you hail a 

MC getting shit sewn just like a tailor 

I get smooth, rough, rugged, raw, and swift 

Too tough to bluff, so rough you just drift 

Away, now can I get a hip-hip hooray? 

I say shit that you never would have thought to say 

Rhymes poured just enough so we can quench your thirst 

I guarentee I'll have you saying "kick another verse" 

Or, if you feel that's not your style 

I guarantee you'll be laid back with a Kool-Aid smile 

On your grill, you chill, I'm for real 

As my rhyme fulfills Shel-Rumble got skills 

I flaunt the gift on the mic the way a man should 

Even old folks be saying (that boy is damn good) 

Cause I flow so perfectly 

That's why so many motherfuckers worship me 

I got skills, but that's not why I'm here 

I'm here to let you know I rock it like a pioneer 

So Harry-O (what's up?) You way far from fronting 

Won't you get on the mic and show the people a little something 

Yo, brothers grab the mic and plan on waxing me 

But since they're no match to me they can't do jack to me 

The great rap pros slay rappers for fun 

Bust rhymes like a gun so run son or get done 

My rap style may change like a cashier 

As I bust ass with shit I wrote last year 

So MC's step up and press your luck 

I don't give a fuck, I roll like a fucking Tonka truck 

I watch MC's get silenced when it comes to a challenge 

Cause the shit I kick is knocking niggas off balance 

Watch 'em fall and crawl just like a baby 

Heading for the door yelling "save me, save me" 

Don't attempt to attack me, just shut your trap, B 

Don't have me grab the mic and bust your ass like an acne pimple 

Cause ripping shop is simple 

I tear mics up while Rock rips the instrumental 

A part, so don't start up a seminar 

Cause we'll bust your ass word to God, you can send Allah 

My DJ's no joke, and I'm hype, folks 

So fuck around and get your turns and your mics broke 

I take no shorts here, this ain't last year 

I'm getting swift, elevating in fast gear 

I create rhymes and kick them, never will I fall victim, yo 

Brothers know the rap pro can flow 

And rap norm, both off and on platform 

You couldn't turn me off if I was hooked to a platform 

I get raw like bloody liver, make a rapper shiver and shake 

So make no mistake you're stepping to the great 

Rap pro, I get raw cause it's natural 

My cousin sport a fade and half-moon, I sport an afro 

Friends call my Harry-O, my real name's Harry though 

I scream on rapper like the niggas did to Carry, so 

Finesse (yeah yeah) my man, my cousin 

I know you're going to kick some shit 

You thought I wasn't? 

When it comes to being funky I'll show you who the boss is 

(Yo money rock that shit!) Hold your motherfucking horses 

Wait up, hold up, I sport the low cut 

If rap was a game I'd leave opponents on a doughnut 

Funky warlord, top on the scoreboard 

Dissing Finesse, that shit is uncalled for 

Brothers front and fret how they roll correct 

Grab the mic and think they pose a threat 

Talking about all the brothers they coulda killed 

I don't care if you're a New Jack or you're older than Sugar Hill 

Cause I slay with no delay 

I stomp you out, so be about your way 

You can't hang, you're still in the slow poke zone 

You're helpless like a patient in an old folks home 

So keep up with my further adventures 

I'll have it going on til I'm old with dentures 

I rock parties and tear the roof off of houses 

Think I can't? Put your money where your mouth is 

Give me a mic, let me clear my throat 

Guaranteed I'll send you home broke 

Fast and quick cause I'm quick with the gift 

Give me my money I don't wanna hear shit 

And those who can't rap, I don't wanna hear jack 

I dust opponents in two minutes flat 

When it's showtime, MC's they don't wanna fight 

They start bitching saying (Why he have to come at night?) 

It's the Funky Man the brother with the new swing 

Lord Finesse just showing you how I do things 

Yeah, like I said 

Got the brothers in the house Harry-O and Shel-Rumble 

Rock-A-Lot, my man Jazzy Jay, and I'm outta here like Sugar Ray, peace