Got The Flava Lyrics - Goodfellas - Show & A.g.

[Chorus: ] 

Show & A.G. got the flavas (the flavas) 

Rollin with the dwellas and the neighbors (the neighbors) 

Show & A.G. got the flavas (the flavas) 

Rollin with the dwellas and the neighbors (the neighbors) 

[D. Flow] 

Hey yo no question I'm the best in this rap business 

No doubt I'm strapped get back or get clapped ridiculous son 

I'm flippin this one (don't be dumb) 

You better run or end up like my last victim 

Shit that's real I already been through 

Scared from the threats I sent you (it's all in the mental) 

Jackin niggas like I'm in the Central 

Cuttin through that ass like a Ginsu as I commense to 

Get big with my nigs, A.G. & Showbiz 

Now your idol was doin vital damage to your ribs 

Word straight up and down, crab MCs get crushed 

I'll leave your style cramped, my crew can't be touched 

So when you hear the bomb you know it's D. Flow son 

No one can fuck around, yeah that's right (no one) 

[Wali World] 

Hey yo the honies on the dilz cause I play ball good (it's all good) 

I'm still representin the hood 

Big shouts to Uncle Pete, you're my number one neighbor 

No doubt I'm puffin later with my nigga Gary Aida 

Peace to Roc Raider and all the goodfellas 

People gettin jealous, well it's the brothers (the brothers) 

On some other shit can't forget Shabazz 

Representin not to mention that I'm gettin cash 

Get with that or get with this because I'm kickin this 

With the styles I'm runnin through niggas like Emmit Smith 

[Party Arty] 

Touchdown, I buck down MCs that step up 

10 G's if you want to MC wrecked up 

The ghetto dwella's in your hood, hoodie down 

Stomps from the Bronx, the boogie man from the Boogie Down 

Momma never told me there would be days like this 

That I'd be rippin tracks, gettin paid with my nigs 

On tour, roar with that hardcore stuff 

Niggas call bluffs (I give em no chance) I make it more rough 

(And even slow dance) on niggas faces, rugged, fuck it 

Them niggas got to love it cause we made this 

I'm gettin papers with my peeps 

As Party Arty keeps Bacardi so MCs meet the shotty 

[A.G.] 

Check the method but don't sweat the technique 

Even made the baddest dime bitches get weak when the vets speak 

(Hopin) That your head meets my bed sheets 

(Now you're open) Like the Red Sea cause I'm potent 

Don't fit? Don't force it, Flow got that 4-fifth 

Who do with that voodoo, my doll it's that cordless 

All this and that and then some 

Get paid to put raps on tracks, I guess that's my income 

The beat chills so they be comin back for refills 

(My man shows his street skills) From here to the Peekskills 

Kill the rumors, givin MCs brain tumors 

Time to step off the set, gotta jet like Puma 

[Chorus (2x) ] 

[Method Man] 

What the blood clot, son lick a shot, show your love in the area 

Forget me not, mass hysteria 

My style revolves around blunts, the Methical 

The one and only piece original, never phony 

One love to my muthafucker A.G. 

A true giant in the industry, hold your shoes up 

(Word to God, youknowI'msayin) 

Yeah, that's how it's goin down, you know who got the flava 

We got the flava, the flava 

So bring it on, so bring it on, all you muthafuckin corns, yeah