40 Acres And My Props Lyrics - Runaway Slave - Showbiz & A.g.

[Intro: Showbiz & A.G.] 

Showbiz got props, tell me who got the props 

A.G. got props, tell me who got the props 

Give me my props for '92 

It's me and Showbiz, and this is what we gonna do 

Give you some now, save some for later 

Here's a portion, yo Show, kick the flavor 

[Showbiz] 

Record labels try and juice me (for what?) for my papers 

The offer me a mule (and what else?) and 40 acres 

I'm dissing snakes now, there's no time to catch the vapors 

I'm not a pup (for what?) a Muppet caper 

And all the ghetto groupies get free with the quickness 

And Show concentrates and only thinks about business 

I hate a sellout cause he puts me in a rage 

I play KRS and throw that ass off the stage 

So give me my props cause I always stay clever 

And ain't nothing changd but the weather 

Get your act together, cause I got mines together 

Don't front on the brother with the Pelle Pelle leather 

I'm Show be -I-Z, my partner's A.G. 

Chill with Greg N-I-see-E or my brother D-are-E-S 

And what's up to Lord Finesse 

And I'd like to give shouts to my peeps Shorty and Wes 

People say I'm soup, crazy cash I recoup 

Nowadays I just troop in my green Legend coupe 

[A.G.] 

Record companies try to juice me for my papers 

They offer me a mule and about 40 acres 

They try ot gain from my royalties 

Push me towards the dotted line but you know I didn't sign 

Labels know straight up when we meet 

Interfere with my career and it's back to the streets 

Bang bang or the pow pow 

I settle the beef the best way I know how 

Release the savage beast if I'm not taking care 

Rap is my career and it's my only way outta here 

Every chance I do damage 

And I manage to use all the anger to my advantage 

All that is cool, but my brain is the tool 

Gimme my props so we all can rule 

Don't show off my skills, I just sprinkle em 

And you're sleeping on my props, wake up before you wrinkle them 

Gimme my props yo, more than a cop yo 

Til I master hip-hop, I won't stop yo (Repeat 4x) 

[Showbiz] 

The say BMW's a Black Man's Wish 

I wish for an SP-1200 and some discs 

Negativity the least, my material's is cease 

Saying peace to the brothers in the belly of the beast 

People saying "Why Show want to rhyme?" 

I didn't want to get back and do Fed time 

I want to live right and exact, I don't want to be the fat cat 

Off the crack and have the Feds down my back 

If the money's stacked, take a step back, black 

Or you'll be wearing four four numbers like a quarterback 

I was raised one deep by mom dukes and no dad 

And now I grab a number two pencil and a pad 

Or Erasermate if I make mistakes I erase 

And me a Diamond go diggin' in the crates 

(Where's my 40 acres?) Not the projects of course 

I asked for a mule, I got an iron horse 

Shit goes on as the song plays 

Can a devil fool a Muslim? Nah, not nowadays 

[A.G.] 

On your mark, get set, pass the 40, let's jet 

A fat rhyme is what you want, a fat rhyme is what you'll get 

It's thorough, from beginning to end 

The beat is fat, what can I say? Show you did it again 

I got the hat on my head, Pepe's on my behind 

Fans on my back, and money on my mind 

I don't sweat the stress, take the bitter with the sweet 

Did I let you know I have the Tims on my feet? 

You know my stats when I came around 

Saying "Damn he's living fat" when I haven't even gained a pound 

Friends til the end, never will I diss ya 

My people's R.I.P., you know I'm gonna miss ya 

40 acres and my props, the name of the song 

A.G. is saying peace and I'm gone 

Gimme my props yo, more than a cop yo 

Til I master hip-hop, I won't stop yo (Repeat 4x)