Tonalità: C major
Verse 1
Fm
Give me props, give me props,
cause niggas I done showed ya
Time and time again,
prove that I'm a rhyme soldier
You can't fuck with the skills that I make
I'm creating on another level,
never coming face
See your rhymes are out of time
and I'll slash em like tires
In itty bitty pieces
and pass em out like flyers
The fire, chronic, my lyrics are like bionic
I'll slam you like onyx,
ya hooked on my phonic
So, peep me out
and peep me out like a peep show
But it ain't a bitch, you see,
it's me, the mighty Flo
The F -L -O, who is totally unbeatable
Just like the Hort motherfuckers,
I'm incredible
And this, I mean, my color, it's also green
My sister black,
so I'm fat like a twenty sack
Some black rags, black loaks,
and black dickies
Uh, my skills give me riches,
like, like Ricky
So, say that drama, motherfuckers,
cause you're boring me
With all that drama, nigga,
you got to show me
Show me, nigga
Nigga, you got to show me
Show me, nigga
Nigga, you got to show me
Show me, nigga
Nigga, you got to show me
Show me, nigga
Nigga, you got to show me
or blow me, it's your choice
So pick one or the other, lo
Don't waste my time with
no whack rhymes,
I could be at the store
Pickin' me up a body,
I'm some St. Thomas brew
Crooked letter I's, what I drink,
I thought you knew
That I get faded,
some police got me gang related
But I don't bang,
although sometimes I have to slang
Crack, or a fat sesame sack
Yeah for a minute I lost control,
but now I'm back
Bustin' raps, after raps, after raps
Gee, thinkin' so much applause,
I think I got the claps
But I'm my own cure,
my shit gets funky like a sewer
I get so funky when I flow,
you'll think you smell manure
So back the fuck up, this mic,
it just might bust
If it's left up to my nigga paps,
perhaps I misunderstood when
you said you'd blow on me
This is the state of Missouri, nigga, you gots to show me me,
nigga, you gots to show me
Show me, nigga, you gots to show me
Show me, nigga, you gots to show me
Show me, nigga, you gots to show me
Row, row, row your ass
right up out this tip
Punk on London bridges,
gon' fall down from rounds of a bump
Mouths get criss -crossed,
like them little fellas
Gatsby cocked and ready to pop,
the minute that you step to us
You do us, you do us not,
and that's the last leap
Now I lay you down to sleep,
come face to face with my heat
It's Aruga,
got a clique full of executioners
And if convicted,
we killin' all the prosecutors
So slip my loaf, so my khakis crease,
my brain is blown
From all the sweet smoke,
I slip a stack in the D .E. Crackin'
I'm in the zone,
so don't fuck with the professionals
It's the best you know,
when it comes to flow
Shit, that's my name
and I thought you know her
Without no game,
you the same as every other nigga
Pull your triggers, go blow,
go blow if you have to go
Stay on your toes,
keep your game up by laying low
Before you know it,
got rid of all the counterfeits
Rich and mad, listen,
you the new nigga digging it
Show me, nigga
Nigga, you got to show me
Show me, nigga
Fm
Nigga, you got to show me
We in this muthafuckin'
with shortstop freckin'
And just to give it up to you
We're the real deal
We're the real deal
We're the real deal
We're the real deal
We're the real deal
We're the real deal
We're the real deal
3 -0 -1 -0
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