sample: showbiz, ag, showbiz, ag, showbiz, agnn[Show]nAll I see is blinking lights, track boards & fat micsn950's, SB-12's, MP-60'snShit is thumpin, eardrums pumpinnThe shit is tight, aight? Cuz the sample is tight, right?nBite this one and leave teethlessnNever sweat that cuz I'm a cool cat just like HeathcliffnPeep this, give up the lootnIt's '94 an' bitch ass niggas yeah still get the bootnThey nod flakes cuz I be flowin' in all statesnShow kept diggin & diggin and now he got more cratesnThat's right nigga, roll that dimenAnd I'm the only living matter that controls my mindnPeace to every single rapper on this whole earthnSellouts got no worth, I think they better go soul searchnnshowbiz, agn(brothas can't belive how the skills have died)nn[AG]nNow here I go again, ready to flow againnAnd if the coast ain't clear, oh yeah, I'm still going in nGet it together or you'll be layin on a stretchernI betcha I'm a getcha, the number one heart stressa'nSorry black, that's right it's a cardiac arrestnTry to triple team the best and where's the party at?nLots to know and I'm a warrior like ShogunnAnd when the show's done nStacks & stacks is how the hoes comenI bruise ya feelin', confidence is to the cielingnIf I'm sick I'll pick a chick for sexual healingsnI'm unique, a freak like MaliknIn the twilights with more highlights than DominiquenAround the woods is where the ?? stopsnTo the streets, the jeeps, my peeps in the cellblocknI'm not the best but I'll give ya stressnTo flatter me, ya strategy gotta be more complex than chessnStop bluffin' cuz you ain't saying nothin, GnAnd start lookin' on the A to the fuckin' GnLast LP we got down rightnShowin' all these corny muthafuckas nwhat hiphop's supposed to sound likenSee AG and the brotha Show quiet as keptnIt's best that you step on the lownnshowbiz, agn(brothas can't believe how the skills have died)nn[AG]nWell it's me, meanin' the A to the dashnI'm fast ta get the cash now I'm gone like the pastnWhat's the remedy?nSuckaz betta get they own identitynAnd to the enemy you better roll like there's ten of menFake lords they get strangled with mic cordsnTakin' beats from my LP for sure ain't healthynPatterson Projects is where I restnBut I claim the whole planet cuz it's mine GoddamnitnI'm hard, quick to pull a fake brotha' cardnWreck Boston, run this shit in Portland like ??nIt's hard to face defeat when you're raised in the streetnNo surrender and no retreatnNow dance with the devil, no not hardlynEventhough I mamba like La Bamba and smoke ganjanlike Bob MarleynA bag of sess puts me at my restnYou say it's silly, that's my theorynHit the Phillie and let it restnnshowbiz, agn(brothas can't belive how the skills have died)