Show and Prove

Verse One: Scoob<br><br>Hah hah, hey hey, laugh now nigga<br>My man`s right behind you, Kane pull the trigger<br>I don`t play, I`m from the hill where shit is real<br>And I`ll be on your ass like bugs on a windshield<br>So bring your grip or you can think twice<br>Cause I got more rhymes than a five pound bag of rice<br>I`m hitting hard, oh word, I`m gon rock it<br>Once the shit drops, that`s dough to the pocket<br>I cut hand, you still can`t get no cards<br>You couldn`t deal with Scoob if we was playin cards<br>But if I got beef and it`s time for code red<br>My drill is like a hoe, and be takin mad niggaz to bed<br>So hurry up and skedaddle<br>Even if you join a army, you still couldn`t battle<br>So where you from? England, you somebody great?<br>You burnin Scoob, "I don`t think so mate"<br>I got the style that gets you open like a bag of smoke<br>I have your friends "Ah-hah man, that shit ain`t dope"<br>Leave me alone when I`m rocking on the microphone<br>and play like E.T. and phone your black ass ho-wome<br>Yo Sauce, if you`re down with the groo-hoove<br>Get on the mic and won`t ya show and prove<br><br>Verse Two: Sauce<br><br>Hey, here I come with a slick rap, tic tac toe<br>When I flip tracks, so gimme my dick, back<br>I flow to it and through it, if you ever need to wonder<br>how you got dope like Sauce, money you didn`t do it<br>I write my own with bigger hope, drink of Scope<br>Wrote what I figured, nope, damn you dig a nigga doe<br>Rhymes too drastic, bastard, pull hookers like elastic<br>N-B-A style, fann-tastic<br>No time to bite, but I just might, tonight I write left-handed<br>cuz I like, to grab my dick with my right<br>Who could ever say that I don`t get plenty play<br>Win Lose or Draw, I`m bookin whores, anyway<br>As I get ready I`m steady if I go crazy I`d take Eddie<br>if I was Fred, I think I`d have to bone Betty<br>Suckin and luckin, hey, niggaz I`m duckin, nay<br>Nada no never meaning ain`t no motherfuckin way<br>Rappers get gassed come on and get fast<br>Try to get past when I blast, and you can HAND over your ass<br>One line and that`s fear<br>Rappers get so damn pussy they gotta go for a pap smear<br>So Shyheim, if your down with the groove<br>Get on the mic it`s time to show and prove<br><br>Verse Three: Shyheim<br><br>Yo, yo<br>I spark the mic like weed that`s in a cipher<br>And I get girls open like a reggae song by Tiger<br>So check me out, as I flip this here track kid<br>And make mad noise like a Metallica record<br>I`m psycho, a villain to the styles I be killin<br>when I`m thrusted, and all competition gets dusted<br>Cause I rock the world from U.S.A. to Asia to Russia<br>If your shit stinks I`ma flush ya, then bust ya<br>Like a crazy man from Cali son<br>My jams be packed like a Farrakhan rally, what?<br>You know my style, I put the F in effin foul<br>The Rugged Child locks you down like Rikers Isle<br>And got more girls than a Trailerload with Shabba<br>More Super than Cat, I`m the punani Don Dada<br>So Big Daddy, if you`re down with the groove my man<br>Get on the mic and won`t ya show and prove<br><br>Verse Four: Big Daddy Kane<br><br>Now tell me whoooo is the mannnn?<br>With the high-potent lyrics no rapper can ever stand<br>And steppin to me, thinkin I can be touched? Huh<br>Not even Michael Jordan`ll gamble that much, yo<br>I get down on it and give it to rappers that even act like they want it<br>I come for your title kid, run it!<br>Or else get hit with the ultimate, too legit skit<br>Ahh yeah, that`s that shit<br>Drop lyrics on ya, strong as ammonia<br>That is I thrown ya, scold ya, Jones ya, I tried to warn ya<br>You was wack since I known ya, fake as a cubic zirconia<br>What did I just show ya, real lyrics doggone ya<br>Look inside my rap book at every text my man<br>and see that I got, more essays than the Mexican<br>The Messiah that`s feared great, leavin rappers in a weird state<br>Scared straight, for their prepared fate<br>Strong as an elephant, intelligent, compelling and elegant<br>So well in it with every single element<br>And competition gets none! Huh<br>If I was wearing pantyhose you still couldn`t give me no run<br>I see the way you`re trying to get to me, <br>but with with speech impedi-ment, man you gotta come better G<br>You`re hitting all the wrong switches troop begin again<br>Mumble mouth rappers couldn`t last a minute with<br>The non-resistable, non-competible<br>No-No-I`m-Not-Sayin-I`m-The-Best, I`m just sayin I`m fuckin incredible!<br>And let`s just make one more thing understood<br>That if I FART on a record, TRUST me nigga it`ll sound good<br>So Jay-Z, if you`re down with the groove, my mellow<br>Get on the mic it`s time to show and prove<br><br>Verse Five: Jay-Z<br><br>Uh, one checkin it two, checkin it three<br>Check out the J, check out the A, check out the Y, check out the Z<br>Hey G!<br>I`m breaking MC`s up like EPMD<br>And these nuts if you rappers tryin ta see me<br>I`m buckwild with styles, ta-dow<br>I`ve been in it runnin a hundred miles I`m well endowed, baby gal<br>Uhh, the greatest nigga to touch it, you niggaz can`t fuck with<br>The, incredible skills of the G from Brooklyn, big up kid<br>And ain`t no eatin me up, you fast fuckin with jigga<br>I`m like Prince jeans, I bring the ass out a nigga<br>When I rock it it`s in the pocket, baby mop it don`t knock it<br>till you try it, once you start, you can`t stop it<br>I`m the cocky breed, I`m dope like poppy seed<br>I live one rent from besides that be <br>between get off my dick and stop jockin me<br>When I bust a rhyme you`re diggin the sound<br>I know you lovin the way it`s, goin down baby<br>So Ason huh, if you`re down with the groove, why don`t ya<br>Get on the mic and show and prove<br><br>Verse Six: Ol Dirty Bastard<br><br>Come on<br>Wu-Tang killa bees on a swarm<br>Rain on your college ass, disco dorm<br>Slippery when wet and don`t you ever forget<br>You couldn`t get a FLICK, of the hype outfit<br>Because the way that I dress this style mad wild<br>Enough to make a crowd of women scream "OW!"<br>Whether at a party or just in bed<br>All thoughts on Ason, keep that in your head<br>Yuh, my beats are funky and my rhymes are spunky<br>Sometimes I`ll be like "Well god damn what`s the recipe?"<br>I don`t know, I ask my momma she don`t know<br>she says "GO ASK YOUR GOD DAMNED FATHER!"<br>It`s all about me in the place to be<br>Niggas thing they all that, yo, that shit is G<br>Mad game and it`s a motherfucking shame<br>How many enemies wanna claim the name<br>Of Ason, who carries on like a manager<br>YO!, SOUNDS FLY RIGHT? DANGER!!!