Next Level (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