Add On Lyrics - Goodfellas - Show & A.g.

[Lord Finesse] 

It's Lord Finesse the rhyme vet 

Like Bigge I'm "Ready to Die" but it ain't my fucking time yet 

I bring the noise like static I cause havoc 

When I grab the mic I pack a party like traffic 

You know my style I got the hip sound 

I should be a construction worker the way I be tearing shit down 

One of the best you ought to shout it 

Bust a nigga's ass and won't give two thoughts about it 

Word, I hunt you down 

I got a million reasons why none of you can fuck around 

I slay beginners, sautee contenders 

Shit, and be damned if I don't walk away the winner 

I kick facts, flip raps over hip tracks 

You know what I'm saying? (Yeah, I can dig that) 

I'm gifted, my rhyme is wicked 

When it comes to knowledge, I got jewels like the Diamond District 

I'm the dopest, the baddest, one of the fattest 

Chickenheads know my status 

For those that's waiting to doubt 

I'm a play like Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth and "Straighten it Out" 

Ayo Show, my man (Add on, add on!) 

A.G. my man (Add on, add on!) 

Ayo Show my man (Add on, add on!) 

D-Flow my man (Add on, add on!) 

[D-Flow] 

Check it, I got the herb to bomb your brain 

I'm a threat like Saddam Huessein, niggas better know my name 

I flow the same in a competition 

I break them clowns into something different, buck 'em with the fucking Smith & 

Wesson, MC's never leave my section 

Finger on the trigger, I figure I kill that nigga for stepping 

I tote the four-fifth, riff and get your jaw shift 

Flip phones and add jewels got me looking gorgeous 

Ignore the style and get bucked down, child 

With the three-pound pile, BLOW! How you like me now? 

The new improved Flow, you know how I do so 

Whatever, a motherfucking terror like Cujo 

I'm out to get mine, I want mils, God 

Niggas that feel hard chill, fuck around and get your grill scarred 

It's D-Flow, you know my steelo, ceelo will let you know how we go 

Chop him like a kilo and let him die 

[A.G.] 

And then I'm a add on like arithmetic 

Suckers careers get stopped so stop who you riffing with 

I'm on point with the snakes and fakes 

Ain't the one (Think I am?) You get hung like drapes 

And it's proven, point blank that's the conclusion 

Seeing me losing, it's all an illusion 

Like the raw ism, I'm a kiss him when I hurt him 

Then desert him, because the Show & A.G. shit is sickening 

Giving stress to them snakes is a ritual 

Nights and north flakes, oh yes, they bless the physical 

Promote the glock? No I'm not 

I use it as an art, ain't got the heart to disrespect hip-hop 

Time to breeze, now I'm gone, the Greats is rolling strong 

So add on and on