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Captiol Hill, yeah [Chorus] Ain't nobody with the skills we got Putting shit together just to form another plot Better be on your P's and Q's Here's a message from me to you, bloow Ain't nobody with the skills we got Always putting shit together just to form another plot Better be on your P's and Q's Here's a message from me to you, bloow [Verse 1:] I break you off a little something There ain't no reason to be frontin' He sat with a cold blunt in hand, other nothing Pick up my pen, begin To let my mind bend again Rush with thoughts, bust, discuss how I'm finishing Cleaning niggas off, you just a pig who need a bigger trough While I chill on the land of the lore With your raps sound soft Beats never coming off How you feel? I know you thought you were reeeaall Losing you skill, what's the deal? Peeling caps on you record Interludes on some y'all ain't even seen real steal SongtexteImagine if you will kid, getting ill on a record Making dough, but it's your own shit still Now's time to play big Will nigga After you learn how to play the field, rocking the act vigor Trigger in you clutches Remembering the time you thought of doing niggas Spoke about the dutches New style every month from Tony Touches You capitalize on franchise type of shit Generic in your eyes No name brand the same But can't even do it like the orginal Fame Get that ass out the game Nigga, what! [Chorus] Honey! Where do you think you're going with my money? Broke you off last week, Yo! Girl listen funny, you thinking you're runnin' On some different type shit But your position at present could get your wig split Baby, what! I know we cool like that because, we known each other for years And all the time we was on the same level But you turned up the treble Not me I became a hip-hop MC On the other hand, babee You think of profiling as an acuvision [?] Last year was a different situation Hanging out with the niggas, when you were in need to kick back Smoking BDs, mixing hash with weed Denim and army fatigues You were never afraid to put degrees on a nigga who slapped up ya seat Now you're chilling with some type Johnny G type of cat Put you up in the crib Now you think you're all that Fly DKNY, Versace panties on your ass But, your son's looking like crass and tripping up in class Correct that bullshit, fast! And quit coming around my niggas begging for cash That's you boyfriend's task I heard he 'tacked you up really bad the other day 'Cause I can hear your seed screaming, running my way Time to talk to that fool, cause my sons don't play Ah, honey, next time you change, don't stray You hear me? [Chorus] Ain't nobody, skills we got, Ain't nobody, Saukrates y'all Better be on your P's and Q's Here's a message from me to you, bloow Aus Songtexte Mania