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Next Level Lyrics - Goodfellas - Show & A.g.

All I see is blinking lights, track boards, and fat mics 

950s, SP12s, MP60s 

Shit is thumping, ear drums pumping 

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 north flakes cause I be flowing in all states 

Show kept digging and digging now he got more crates 

That's right nigga roll that dime, and I'm 

The only living matter that controls my mind 

Peace to every single rapper on this whole earth 

Sell-out's got no worth 

I think they better go soul search 

 

Brothers can't believe how the skills have gotten 

 

Now here I go again, ready to flow again 

And if the coast ain't clear, hell yeah, I'm still going in 

Get it together or you'll be laying on a stretcher 

I betcha I'm a 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 healing 

I'm unique, a freak like Malik 

In the twilights with more highlights than Dominique 

Around my boys is where the jel stops 

Up 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 bluffing cause you ain't saying nothing, G 

And start ducking I'm the A to the fucking 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 

 

Brothers can't believe how the skills have gotten 

 

Well it's me meaning the A to the dash 

I'm fast to get the cash now I'm gone 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 

Taking beats from my LP for sure ain't healthy 

Patterson Projects is where I rest 

But I claim the whole planet cos it's mine goddamn it 

I'm God, quick to pull a fake brother card 

Wrecked Boston, running 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 

Get the philly and let it rest 

 

Brothers can't believe how the skills have gotten 

Writer:

Copyright: Atv Music Publishing Llc, Universal Music Publishing Group, Sony