Next Level Lyrics - Showbiz & A.g.

All I see is blinkin' lights track boards and fat mikes 

950's SP12's MP60's 

Shit is thumping ear drums pumpin' 

The shit is tight right 'cause the sample is tight right 

Right that's one to leave teethless 

Never sweat that 'cause I'm a cool cat just like Heathcliff 

Peep this give up the loop 

It's 94 and bitch ass niggas getting still with the boot 

The north flakes 'cause I'll be flowing in all states 

Show kept diggin' and diggin' and 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 

Sellout's got no worth I think they better go soul searching... 

Showbiz... A.G. (brothers can't believe how the skills have gotten) 

Showbiz... A.G. (brothers can't believe how the skills have gotten) 

Now here I go again ready to flow again 

And if the course stay clear oh 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 

Caress try to triple be the best then where's party at 

Law's to no one and a warrior like Shogun 

And when the show's done stacks and stacks is how the O's come 

I bouge your feeling confidence is to the ceiling 

If I'm sick I pick the chick for sexual healing 

I'm unique a freak like Malik 

In the twilights with more highlights than Dominique 

Around my ? is where the jell stops 

The jeeps the streets my peeps in the cell block 

I'm not the best but I keep it stressed 

To flatter me is strategy it gotta be more complex than chess 

Stop bluffin cause you ain't saying nothing gee 

Start duckin I'm the A to the fuckin G 

Last LP we got down right 

Showing all these corny motherfuckers what hiphop's supposed to sound 

Like 

See A.G. and the brother Show 

Quiet as kept is best that you step on the low 

Well it's me meaning the A to the dash 

I'm fast to get the cash now I'm going like the path 

What's the remedy suckas better get their own identity 

And took the enemy you better roll like it's Cannamy 

Fake lords they get strangled with mic cords 

Taking beats from my LP for sure ain't healthy 

Madison Projects is where I rest 

But I claim the whole planet it's mine god dammit 

I'm God took the bulla fake ? 

Wreck Boston running shit ? 

It's hard to face the feet when you're raised in the street 

No surrender and no patrique 

Now dance with the devil no not hardly 

Even though I mamba like a bomber and smoke ganja like Bob Marley 

A bag of sess puts me at my rest 

You say ? hit the philly and let it rest