[{"id":684316,"name":"Represent","trackName":"Represent","artistName":"Showbiz & A.G.","albumName":"Runaway Slave","duration":353.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"[Chorus]\n(I'm the calm one, but my crew is sorta sick)\nYeah, big l is the first to represent.\nYo, on the mic is big l, that brother who kicks flavs, god.\nKnown for sendin' garbage mcs to the graveyard.\nI pack a gat, not a slingshot;\nStep to this and get an ass-whoopin' like rodney king got.\nOr get beat to your death like cochise,\nMy laws is no peace, fuck the police.\nM-C's get braggin' about cash they collect,\nBut them chumps is like ray Charles,\nCause they ain't seen no money yet.\nTrash rappers I tax and spark,\nI be wettin' niggas up like water rides at action park.\nA nigga stuck me, and that ain't funny son,\nSo I got money gun, they wet him and his honey bun.\nCause phony faggots I froze, it's a fact,\nI flip fast on foes with fabulous fantastic flows.\nL is the rebel type, I'm rough as a metal pipe,\nFuck a benz, cause I could pull skins on a pedal-bike.\nProps, I got the most, no mc comes close,coast-to-coast,\nShows I host, foes I roast, adios, I'm ghost\n[Chorus]\nYo, street ? in new york is a place this nigga stands\nWith a machete I'm a crazy Eddie scissor hands.\nBorn with such a thirst to kill,\nI can tap 200 quarters from a $50 bill.\nCuttin' bitch-niggas down with a hundred pound axe\nLike I was raised by psycho-crazed lumberjacks.\nSo in a battle I be stabbin',choppin' M-C'ss like trees,\nPiece-by-piece buildin' cabins.\nI'm a maniac magician, Abra cadabra,\nMakin' pain appear cause I'm-a grab arusty chain to make a noose\nTo choke your ass so hard, you're spittin' fuckin' adam's apple juice.\nSo come check the magic show by Deshawn,\nAnd witness the way I put you to death with a magic wand.\nTurnin' your home to a casket,\nTurn your wife into a widow and your son into a bastard.\nCause I love to keep M-C's sufferin',\nBeggin' for big, heavy bags of bufferin'.\nBaseball battin' 'em, splattin' 'em,\nSo many homicide records, my cases went platinum.\nD'shawn is nice,\nKnown for givin' out head cracks without touchin' dice.\nJust pain and punishment from the boogie down bronxter,\nD'shawn the maniac street mobster.\n[Chorus]\nIt's the f-I-n-e-double-s-e,\nDon't play or stress me\nCause that shit don't impress me\nI make papes off the shit I create, and then dictate\nSo get your motherfuckin' shit straight\nI got skills and I'm hard to kill,\nSo y'all bitch-ass rappes better chill and just guard your grill\nYou grab a mic and always get hype\nTalkin' bout fuckin' niggas up\nWhen you can bearly beat your dick right\nSo stop ridin' my dilznick\nCause I can still kick the ill shit on the motherfuckin' real tip\nHit like foreman when I'm brawlin'\nThose who think I'm fallin, I'll play your monkey-ass like a organ\nI got crazy niggas in the city noid\nGot mad bitches, but it's not cause I'm a motherfuckin' pretty-boy\nI'm ruthless, I'm not on that goody-goody tip\nThat shit played out with that beat street/electric boogie shit\nI'll stomp any rapper that you ?\nIf they ass is weak, they better chill and grab a seat\nAnd go 'head with they master plan\nStevie wonder probably see me 'fore half you rappers can\nYou can't hang and you're fallin' fast\nYou rappers that's trash better dash and start haulin' ass\nCause I'm out to rag shit\nFuck up a show, collect my dough\nAnd step off with a bad bitch\nSpectators always have the best time\nWhen they come to a show and hear a funky lord finesse rhyme\nI'm out to get bigger, lounge and make rich figures\nYou'll never catch finesse associating with bitch niggas\nI work overtime when it's time to go for mine\nCrab-ass rappers, don't even front cause y'all know the time\nSo it's time for me to step\nPeace to showbiz and ag and I'm off to the left\n[Chorus]\nCheck-check-check it a to the g is gonna wreck it.\nOn stage, on my record, so nigga don't forget it.\nI'm the man. the one-man-band is on my right hand.\n(his name is show nitwit, so get wit the program)\nI get a hit from my Buddha blessed.\nTurn my hat to the back, now let's see who's the best.\nI like my pockets fat, never ever flat.\nNiggas wanna jack, my .45 ain't havin' that.\nHoes get no dough, so why try?\nThink it's gonna be a hit 'n' run? wrong, it's a drive-by.\nNiggas catchin' tantrums,because your girl's never safe around\nThe midnight phantom.\nThey predicted I'm-a fall,\nThey must be down with Michael Jackson cause that shit is off the wall.\nYou don't believe me, ask that brother show,\nSnatchin' hotties, grabbin' hotties, lettin' mothafuckers know.\nYou come wrong if you don't come strong,\nYou better catch wreck! mothafucker, I made the song.\nStyles will vary, they won't carry over.\nDon't fuck with no devil, I'd rather marry Oprah.\nYeah, you got it, I'm pro-black,\nAnd my skills are so phat, I pay my dues, I don't owe jack.\nYou bite my style, I can spot it.\nTryin' real hard to get it,\nYou can forget it, because you don't got it.\nAnd my skills are excellent, diggin' in the crates\nAnd it's time to represent!\n[Chorus]","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Represent\n  artist: Showbiz & A.G.\n  album: Runaway Slave\n  duration_ms: 353000\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  [Chorus]\n  (I'm the calm one, but my crew is sorta sick)\n  Yeah, big l is the first to represent.\n  Yo, on the mic is big l, that brother who kicks flavs, god.\n  Known for sendin' garbage mcs to the graveyard.\n  I pack a gat, not a slingshot;\n  Step to this and get an ass-whoopin' like rodney king got.\n  Or get beat to your death like cochise,\n  My laws is no peace, fuck the police.\n  M-C's get braggin' about cash they collect,\n  But them chumps is like ray Charles,\n  Cause they ain't seen no money yet.\n  Trash rappers I tax and spark,\n  I be wettin' niggas up like water rides at action park.\n  A nigga stuck me, and that ain't funny son,\n  So I got money gun, they wet him and his honey bun.\n  Cause phony faggots I froze, it's a fact,\n  I flip fast on foes with fabulous fantastic flows.\n  L is the rebel type, I'm rough as a metal pipe,\n  Fuck a benz, cause I could pull skins on a pedal-bike.\n  Props, I got the most, no mc comes close,coast-to-coast,\n  Shows I host, foes I roast, adios, I'm ghost\n  [Chorus]\n  Yo, street ? in new york is a place this nigga stands\n  With a machete I'm a crazy Eddie scissor hands.\n  Born with such a thirst to kill,\n  I can tap 200 quarters from a $50 bill.\n  Cuttin' bitch-niggas down with a hundred pound axe\n  Like I was raised by psycho-crazed lumberjacks.\n  So in a battle I be stabbin',choppin' M-C'ss like trees,\n  Piece-by-piece buildin' cabins.\n  I'm a maniac magician, Abra cadabra,\n  Makin' pain appear cause I'm-a grab arusty chain to make a noose\n  To choke your ass so hard, you're spittin' fuckin' adam's apple juice.\n  So come check the magic show by Deshawn,\n  And witness the way I put you to death with a magic wand.\n  Turnin' your home to a casket,\n  Turn your wife into a widow and your son into a bastard.\n  Cause I love to keep M-C's sufferin',\n  Beggin' for big, heavy bags of bufferin'.\n  Baseball battin' 'em, splattin' 'em,\n  So many homicide records, my cases went platinum.\n  D'shawn is nice,\n  Known for givin' out head cracks without touchin' dice.\n  Just pain and punishment from the boogie down bronxter,\n  D'shawn the maniac street mobster.\n  [Chorus]\n  It's the f-I-n-e-double-s-e,\n  Don't play or stress me\n  Cause that shit don't impress me\n  I make papes off the shit I create, and then dictate\n  So get your motherfuckin' shit straight\n  I got skills and I'm hard to kill,\n  So y'all bitch-ass rappes better chill and just guard your grill\n  You grab a mic and always get hype\n  Talkin' bout fuckin' niggas up\n  When you can bearly beat your dick right\n  So stop ridin' my dilznick\n  Cause I can still kick the ill shit on the motherfuckin' real tip\n  Hit like foreman when I'm brawlin'\n  Those who think I'm fallin, I'll play your monkey-ass like a organ\n  I got crazy niggas in the city noid\n  Got mad bitches, but it's not cause I'm a motherfuckin' pretty-boy\n  I'm ruthless, I'm not on that goody-goody tip\n  That shit played out with that beat street/electric boogie shit\n  I'll stomp any rapper that you ?\n  If they ass is weak, they better chill and grab a seat\n  And go 'head with they master plan\n  Stevie wonder probably see me 'fore half you rappers can\n  You can't hang and you're fallin' fast\n  You rappers that's trash better dash and start haulin' ass\n  Cause I'm out to rag shit\n  Fuck up a show, collect my dough\n  And step off with a bad bitch\n  Spectators always have the best time\n  When they come to a show and hear a funky lord finesse rhyme\n  I'm out to get bigger, lounge and make rich figures\n  You'll never catch finesse associating with bitch niggas\n  I work overtime when it's time to go for mine\n  Crab-ass rappers, don't even front cause y'all know the time\n  So it's time for me to step\n  Peace to showbiz and ag and I'm off to the left\n  [Chorus]\n  Check-check-check it a to the g is gonna wreck it.\n  On stage, on my record, so nigga don't forget it.\n  I'm the man. the one-man-band is on my right hand.\n  (his name is show nitwit, so get wit the program)\n  I get a hit from my Buddha blessed.\n  Turn my hat to the back, now let's see who's the best.\n  I like my pockets fat, never ever flat.\n  Niggas wanna jack, my .45 ain't havin' that.\n  Hoes get no dough, so why try?\n  Think it's gonna be a hit 'n' run? wrong, it's a drive-by.\n  Niggas catchin' tantrums,because your girl's never safe around\n  The midnight phantom.\n  They predicted I'm-a fall,\n  They must be down with Michael Jackson cause that shit is off the wall.\n  You don't believe me, ask that brother show,\n  Snatchin' hotties, grabbin' hotties, lettin' mothafuckers know.\n  You come wrong if you don't come strong,\n  You better catch wreck! mothafucker, I made the song.\n  Styles will vary, they won't carry over.\n  Don't fuck with no devil, I'd rather marry Oprah.\n  Yeah, you got it, I'm pro-black,\n  And my skills are so phat, I pay my dues, I don't owe jack.\n  You bite my style, I can spot it.\n  Tryin' real hard to get it,\n  You can forget it, because you don't got it.\n  And my skills are excellent, diggin' in the crates\n  And it's time to represent!\n  [Chorus]\n"},{"id":19712622,"name":"Represent","trackName":"Represent","artistName":"Showbiz & A.G.","albumName":"DJ-Kicks: Four Tet","duration":63.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"[A.G.]\nAww yeah, the A to the motherfuckin G is back\nWord to the motherfuckin Goodfellas\nI got two of my boys here, newest members of the D.I.T.C.\nSpeak up\n[Big L]\nYo this the Big motherfuckin L from 139 and Lennox y'knahmsayin?\nSayin whassup to Showbiz & A.G. cause they got it goin on!\n[D'Shawn]\nYo this the baldheaded assassin, D'Shawny Thunder\nRepresentin with my peoples Diggin in the Crates\nPeace to my brothers on 1-2-9, Uptown\n[A.G.]\nAww yeah, knahmsayin? Look out\nD.I.T.C. in e-motherfuckin-effect; LETHAL!\n\n(\"I'm the calm one, but my crew is sorta sick\")\n[A.G.] Yeah, Big L is the first to represent\n[Verse One: Big L]\nYo, on the mic is Big L, that brother who kicks flav God\nKnown for sendin garbage MC's to the graveyard\nI pack a gat and not a slingshot\nStep to this and get a ass-whoopin like Rodney King got\nOr get beat to your death like Cochise\nMy laws is no peace, fuck the police\nMC's be braggin about cash they collect\nBut them chumps is like Ray Charles\nCause they ain't seen no money yet\nTrash rappers I tax and spark\nI be wettin niggaz up like water rides in Action Park\nA nigga stuck me, and that ain't funny son\nSo I got money Dunn, they wet him and his honey bun\nCause phony faggots I froze, it's a fact\nI flip fast on foes with fabulous fantastic flows\nL is the rebel type, I'm rough as a metal pipe\nFuck a Benz, cause I could pull skins on a pedal-bike!\nProps, I got the most, no MC comes close\nCoast-to-coast, shows I host, foes I roast\nAdios, I'm ghost\n\n(\"I'm the calm one, but my crew is sorta sick\")\n[A.G.] Grab the mic D'Shawn, because you gotta represent\n[Verse Two: D'Shawn]\nYo, street corners in New York is the place this nigga stand\nWith a machete I'm a crazy Eddie Scissorhands\nBorn with such a thirst to kill\nI can tap 200 quarters from a $50 bill\nCuttin bitch-niggaz down with a hundred pound axe\nLike I was raised by psycho-crazed lumberjacks\nSo in a battle I be stabbin\nChoppin MC's like trees, piece-by-piece buildin cabins\nI'm a maniac magician, abra cadabra\nMakin pain appear cause I'ma grab a\nRusty chain to make a noose; to choke your ass so hard\nYou're spittin' fuckin' Adam's Apple juice\nSo come check the magic show by D'Shawn\nAnd witness the way I put you to death with a magic wand\nTurnin your home to a casket\nTurn your wife into a widow and your son into a bastard\nCause I love to keep MC's sufferin\nBeggin for big, heavy bags of Bufferin\nBaseball battin 'em, splattin' 'em\nSo many homicide records, my cases went platinum\nD'Shawn is nice\nKnown for givin out headcracks, without touchin dice\nJust pain and punishment from the Boogie Down Bronxter\nD'Shawn the maniac street monster\n\n(\"I'm the calm one, but my crew is sorta sick\")\n[A.G.] It's time to get funky, so you better represent\n(\"I'm the calm one, but my crew is sorta sick\")\n[A.G.] C'mon Lord Finesse, cause you gotta represent\n[Verse Three: Lord Finesse]\nIt's the F-I-N-E-double-S-E, don't play or stress me\nCause that shit don't impress me\nI make papes off the shit I create, and then dictate\nSo get your motherfuckin shit straight\nI got skills and I'm hard to kill\nSo y'all bitch-ass rappers better chill and just guard your grill\nY'all grab a mic and always gettin hype\nTalkin bout fuckin niggaz up When you can bearly beat your dick right\nSo stop ridin my dilznick\nCause I can still kick the ill shit on the motherfuckin real tip\nHit like Foreman when I'm brawlin\nThose who think I'm fallin, I'll play your monkey-ass like a organ\nI got crazy niggaz in the city 'noid\nGot mad bitches, but it's not cause I'm a motherfuckin pretty-boy\nI'm ruthless, I'm not on that goody-goody tip\nThat shit played out with that Beat Street/Electric Boogie shit\nI'll stomp any rapper that you have compete\nIf they ass is weak, they better chill and grab a seat\nAnd go 'head with they master plan\nStevie Wonder probably see me 'fore half you rappers can\nYou can't hang and you're fallin fast\nYou rappers that's trash better dash and start haulin ass\nCause I'm out to wreck shit\nFuck up a show, collect my dough and step off with a bad bitch\nSpectators always have the best time\nWhen they come to a show and hear a funky Lord Finesse rhyme\nI'm out to get bigger, lounge and make rich figures\nYou'll never catch Finesse associating with bitch niggaz\nI work overtime when it's time to go for mine\nCrab-ass rappers, don't even front cause ya'll know the time\nSo it's time for me to step\nPeace to Showbiz & A.G., and I'm off to the left\n\n(\"I'm the calm one, but my crew is sorta sick\")\n[A.G.] When my crew gets sick, you know I gotta represent\n(\"I'm the calm one, but my crew is sorta sick\")\n[A.G.] When my crew gets sick, you know I gotta represent\n[Verse Four: A.G.]\nCheck-check-check it; A to the G is gonna wreck it\nOn stage, on my record, so nigga don't forget it\nI'm the man - the One-Man-Band is on my right hand\n(\"His name is Show nit-wit, so get with the program\")\nI take a hit from the buddha blessed\nTurn my hat to the back, now let's see who's the best\nI like my pockets fat, never ever flat\nNiggaz wanna jack, my .45 ain't havin that\nHoes get no dough, so why try?\nYou think it's gonna be a hit 'n' run? Wrong, it's a drive-by\nNiggaz catchin tantrums\nBecause your girl's never safe around the Midnight Phantom\nThey predicted I'ma fall?\nThey must be down with Michael Jackson cause that shit is \"Off the Wall\"\nYou don't believe me, ask that brother Show\n(Snatchin hotties, grabbin hotties, lettin mothafuckers know)\nYou come wrong if you don't come strong\n\"YOU BETTER CATCH WRECK!\" Motherfucker, I made the song\nStyles will vary, they won't carry over\nDon't fuck with no Devil, I'd rather marry Oprah\nYeah, you got it, I'm pro-black\nAnd my skills are so phat, I pay my dues, I don't owe jack\nYou bite my style, I can spot it\nTryin' real hard to get it, you can forget it, because you don't got it\nAnd my skills are excellent\nDiggin' in the Crates and it's time to represent\n\n(\"I'm the calm one, but my crew is sorta sick\")\n[A.G.] Big L and D'Shawn, yeah they had to represent\n(\"I'm the calm one, but my crew is sorta sick\")\n[A.G.] Lord Finesse and A.G., yeah we had to represent\n\n(\"I'm the calm one, but my crew is sorta sick\")\n(\"I'm the calm one, but my crew is sorta sick\")\n(\"I'm the calm one, but my crew is sorta sick\")\n(\"I'm the calm one, but my crew is sorta sick\")\n(\"I'm the calm one, but my crew is sorta sick\")\n(\"I'm the calm one, but my crew is sorta sick\")\n(\"I'm the calm one, but my crew is sorta sick\")\n(\"I'm the calm one, but my crew is sorta sick\")","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Represent\n  artist: Showbiz & A.G.\n  album: 'DJ-Kicks: Four Tet'\n  duration_ms: 63000\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  [A.G.]\n  Aww yeah, the A to the motherfuckin G is back\n  Word to the motherfuckin Goodfellas\n  I got two of my boys here, newest members of the D.I.T.C.\n  Speak up\n  [Big L]\n  Yo this the Big motherfuckin L from 139 and Lennox y'knahmsayin?\n  Sayin whassup to Showbiz & A.G. cause they got it goin on!\n  [D'Shawn]\n  Yo this the baldheaded assassin, D'Shawny Thunder\n  Representin with my peoples Diggin in the Crates\n  Peace to my brothers on 1-2-9, Uptown\n  [A.G.]\n  Aww yeah, knahmsayin? Look out\n  D.I.T.C. in e-motherfuckin-effect; LETHAL!\n\n  (\"I'm the calm one, but my crew is sorta sick\")\n  [A.G.] Yeah, Big L is the first to represent\n  [Verse One: Big L]\n  Yo, on the mic is Big L, that brother who kicks flav God\n  Known for sendin garbage MC's to the graveyard\n  I pack a gat and not a slingshot\n  Step to this and get a ass-whoopin like Rodney King got\n  Or get beat to your death like Cochise\n  My laws is no peace, fuck the police\n  MC's be braggin about cash they collect\n  But them chumps is like Ray Charles\n  Cause they ain't seen no money yet\n  Trash rappers I tax and spark\n  I be wettin niggaz up like water rides in Action Park\n  A nigga stuck me, and that ain't funny son\n  So I got money Dunn, they wet him and his honey bun\n  Cause phony faggots I froze, it's a fact\n  I flip fast on foes with fabulous fantastic flows\n  L is the rebel type, I'm rough as a metal pipe\n  Fuck a Benz, cause I could pull skins on a pedal-bike!\n  Props, I got the most, no MC comes close\n  Coast-to-coast, shows I host, foes I roast\n  Adios, I'm ghost\n\n  (\"I'm the calm one, but my crew is sorta sick\")\n  [A.G.] Grab the mic D'Shawn, because you gotta represent\n  [Verse Two: D'Shawn]\n  Yo, street corners in New York is the place this nigga stand\n  With a machete I'm a crazy Eddie Scissorhands\n  Born with such a thirst to kill\n  I can tap 200 quarters from a $50 bill\n  Cuttin bitch-niggaz down with a hundred pound axe\n  Like I was raised by psycho-crazed lumberjacks\n  So in a battle I be stabbin\n  Choppin MC's like trees, piece-by-piece buildin cabins\n  I'm a maniac magician, abra cadabra\n  Makin pain appear cause I'ma grab a\n  Rusty chain to make a noose; to choke your ass so hard\n  You're spittin' fuckin' Adam's Apple juice\n  So come check the magic show by D'Shawn\n  And witness the way I put you to death with a magic wand\n  Turnin your home to a casket\n  Turn your wife into a widow and your son into a bastard\n  Cause I love to keep MC's sufferin\n  Beggin for big, heavy bags of Bufferin\n  Baseball battin 'em, splattin' 'em\n  So many homicide records, my cases went platinum\n  D'Shawn is nice\n  Known for givin out headcracks, without touchin dice\n  Just pain and punishment from the Boogie Down Bronxter\n  D'Shawn the maniac street monster\n\n  (\"I'm the calm one, but my crew is sorta sick\")\n  [A.G.] It's time to get funky, so you better represent\n  (\"I'm the calm one, but my crew is sorta sick\")\n  [A.G.] C'mon Lord Finesse, cause you gotta represent\n  [Verse Three: Lord Finesse]\n  It's the F-I-N-E-double-S-E, don't play or stress me\n  Cause that shit don't impress me\n  I make papes off the shit I create, and then dictate\n  So get your motherfuckin shit straight\n  I got skills and I'm hard to kill\n  So y'all bitch-ass rappers better chill and just guard your grill\n  Y'all grab a mic and always gettin hype\n  Talkin bout fuckin niggaz up When you can bearly beat your dick right\n  So stop ridin my dilznick\n  Cause I can still kick the ill shit on the motherfuckin real tip\n  Hit like Foreman when I'm brawlin\n  Those who think I'm fallin, I'll play your monkey-ass like a organ\n  I got crazy niggaz in the city 'noid\n  Got mad bitches, but it's not cause I'm a motherfuckin pretty-boy\n  I'm ruthless, I'm not on that goody-goody tip\n  That shit played out with that Beat Street/Electric Boogie shit\n  I'll stomp any rapper that you have compete\n  If they ass is weak, they better chill and grab a seat\n  And go 'head with they master plan\n  Stevie Wonder probably see me 'fore half you rappers can\n  You can't hang and you're fallin fast\n  You rappers that's trash better dash and start haulin ass\n  Cause I'm out to wreck shit\n  Fuck up a show, collect my dough and step off with a bad bitch\n  Spectators always have the best time\n  When they come to a show and hear a funky Lord Finesse rhyme\n  I'm out to get bigger, lounge and make rich figures\n  You'll never catch Finesse associating with bitch niggaz\n  I work overtime when it's time to go for mine\n  Crab-ass rappers, don't even front cause ya'll know the time\n  So it's time for me to step\n  Peace to Showbiz & A.G., and I'm off to the left\n\n  (\"I'm the calm one, but my crew is sorta sick\")\n  [A.G.] When my crew gets sick, you know I gotta represent\n  (\"I'm the calm one, but my crew is sorta sick\")\n  [A.G.] When my crew gets sick, you know I gotta represent\n  [Verse Four: A.G.]\n  Check-check-check it; A to the G is gonna wreck it\n  On stage, on my record, so nigga don't forget it\n  I'm the man - the One-Man-Band is on my right hand\n  (\"His name is Show nit-wit, so get with the program\")\n  I take a hit from the buddha blessed\n  Turn my hat to the back, now let's see who's the best\n  I like my pockets fat, never ever flat\n  Niggaz wanna jack, my .45 ain't havin that\n  Hoes get no dough, so why try?\n  You think it's gonna be a hit 'n' run? Wrong, it's a drive-by\n  Niggaz catchin tantrums\n  Because your girl's never safe around the Midnight Phantom\n  They predicted I'ma fall?\n  They must be down with Michael Jackson cause that shit is \"Off the Wall\"\n  You don't believe me, ask that brother Show\n  (Snatchin hotties, grabbin hotties, lettin mothafuckers know)\n  You come wrong if you don't come strong\n  \"YOU BETTER CATCH WRECK!\" Motherfucker, I made the song\n  Styles will vary, they won't carry over\n  Don't fuck with no Devil, I'd rather marry Oprah\n  Yeah, you got it, I'm pro-black\n  And my skills are so phat, I pay my dues, I don't owe jack\n  You bite my style, I can spot it\n  Tryin' real hard to get it, you can forget it, because you don't got it\n  And my skills are excellent\n  Diggin' in the Crates and it's time to represent\n\n  (\"I'm the calm one, but my crew is sorta sick\")\n  [A.G.] Big L and D'Shawn, yeah they had to represent\n  (\"I'm the calm one, but my crew is sorta sick\")\n  [A.G.] Lord Finesse and A.G., yeah we had to represent\n\n  (\"I'm the calm one, but my crew is sorta sick\")\n  (\"I'm the calm one, but my crew is sorta sick\")\n  (\"I'm the calm one, but my crew is sorta sick\")\n  (\"I'm the calm one, but my crew is sorta sick\")\n  (\"I'm the calm one, but my crew is sorta sick\")\n  (\"I'm the calm one, but my crew is sorta sick\")\n  (\"I'm the calm one, but my crew is sorta sick\")\n  (\"I'm the calm one, but my crew is sorta sick\")\n"},{"id":26210336,"name":"Represent","trackName":"Represent","artistName":"Showbiz & A.G.","albumName":"Four Tet - DJ-Kicks","duration":63.413333,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"[Chorus]\n(I'm the calm one, but my crew is sorta sick)\nYeah, big l is the first to represent.\nYo, on the mic is big l, that brother who kicks flavs, god.\nKnown for sendin' garbage mcs to the graveyard.\nI pack a gat, not a slingshot;\nStep to this and get an ass-whoopin' like rodney king got.\nOr get beat to your death like cochise,\nMy laws is no peace, fuck the police.\nM-C's get braggin' about cash they collect,\nBut them chumps is like ray Charles,\nCause they ain't seen no money yet.\nTrash rappers I tax and spark,\nI be wettin' niggas up like water rides at action park.\nA nigga stuck me, and that ain't funny son,\nSo I got money gun, they wet him and his honey bun.\nCause phony faggots I froze, it's a fact,\nI flip fast on foes with fabulous fantastic flows.\nL is the rebel type, I'm rough as a metal pipe,\nFuck a benz, cause I could pull skins on a pedal-bike.\nProps, I got the most, no mc comes close,coast-to-coast,\nShows I host, foes I roast, adios, I'm ghost\n[Chorus]\nYo, street ? in new york is a place this nigga stands\nWith a machete I'm a crazy Eddie scissor hands.\nBorn with such a thirst to kill,\nI can tap 200 quarters from a $50 bill.\nCuttin' bitch-niggas down with a hundred pound axe\nLike I was raised by psycho-crazed lumberjacks.\nSo in a battle I be stabbin',choppin' M-C'ss like trees,\nPiece-by-piece buildin' cabins.\nI'm a maniac magician, Abra cadabra,\nMakin' pain appear cause I'm-a grab arusty chain to make a noose\nTo choke your ass so hard, you're spittin' fuckin' adam's apple juice.\nSo come check the magic show by Deshawn,\nAnd witness the way I put you to death with a magic wand.\nTurnin' your home to a casket,\nTurn your wife into a widow and your son into a bastard.\nCause I love to keep M-C's sufferin',\nBeggin' for big, heavy bags of bufferin'.\nBaseball battin' 'em, splattin' 'em,\nSo many homicide records, my cases went platinum.\nD'shawn is nice,\nKnown for givin' out head cracks without touchin' dice.\nJust pain and punishment from the boogie down bronxter,\nD'shawn the maniac street mobster.\n[Chorus]\nIt's the f-I-n-e-double-s-e,\nDon't play or stress me\nCause that shit don't impress me\nI make papes off the shit I create, and then dictate\nSo get your motherfuckin' shit straight\nI got skills and I'm hard to kill,\nSo y'all bitch-ass rappes better chill and just guard your grill\nYou grab a mic and always get hype\nTalkin' bout fuckin' niggas up\nWhen you can bearly beat your dick right\nSo stop ridin' my dilznick\nCause I can still kick the ill shit on the motherfuckin' real tip\nHit like foreman when I'm brawlin'\nThose who think I'm fallin, I'll play your monkey-ass like a organ\nI got crazy niggas in the city noid\nGot mad bitches, but it's not cause I'm a motherfuckin' pretty-boy\nI'm ruthless, I'm not on that goody-goody tip\nThat shit played out with that beat street/electric boogie shit\nI'll stomp any rapper that you ?\nIf they ass is weak, they better chill and grab a seat\nAnd go 'head with they master plan\nStevie wonder probably see me 'fore half you rappers can\nYou can't hang and you're fallin' fast\nYou rappers that's trash better dash and start haulin' ass\nCause I'm out to rag shit\nFuck up a show, collect my dough\nAnd step off with a bad bitch\nSpectators always have the best time\nWhen they come to a show and hear a funky lord finesse rhyme\nI'm out to get bigger, lounge and make rich figures\nYou'll never catch finesse associating with bitch niggas\nI work overtime when it's time to go for mine\nCrab-ass rappers, don't even front cause y'all know the time\nSo it's time for me to step\nPeace to showbiz and ag and I'm off to the left\n[Chorus]\nCheck-check-check it a to the g is gonna wreck it.\nOn stage, on my record, so nigga don't forget it.\nI'm the man. the one-man-band is on my right hand.\n(his name is show nitwit, so get wit the program)\nI get a hit from my Buddha blessed.\nTurn my hat to the back, now let's see who's the best.\nI like my pockets fat, never ever flat.\nNiggas wanna jack, my .45 ain't havin' that.\nHoes get no dough, so why try?\nThink it's gonna be a hit 'n' run? wrong, it's a drive-by.\nNiggas catchin' tantrums,because your girl's never safe around\nThe midnight phantom.\nThey predicted I'm-a fall,\nThey must be down with Michael Jackson cause that shit is off the wall.\nYou don't believe me, ask that brother show,\nSnatchin' hotties, grabbin' hotties, lettin' mothafuckers know.\nYou come wrong if you don't come strong,\nYou better catch wreck! mothafucker, I made the song.\nStyles will vary, they won't carry over.\nDon't fuck with no devil, I'd rather marry Oprah.\nYeah, you got it, I'm pro-black,\nAnd my skills are so phat, I pay my dues, I don't owe jack.\nYou bite my style, I can spot it.\nTryin' real hard to get it,\nYou can forget it, because you don't got it.\nAnd my skills are excellent, diggin' in the crates\nAnd it's time to represent!\n[Chorus]","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Represent\n  artist: Showbiz & A.G.\n  album: Four Tet - DJ-Kicks\n  duration_ms: 63413\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  [Chorus]\n  (I'm the calm one, but my crew is sorta sick)\n  Yeah, big l is the first to represent.\n  Yo, on the mic is big l, that brother who kicks flavs, god.\n  Known for sendin' garbage mcs to the graveyard.\n  I pack a gat, not a slingshot;\n  Step to this and get an ass-whoopin' like rodney king got.\n  Or get beat to your death like cochise,\n  My laws is no peace, fuck the police.\n  M-C's get braggin' about cash they collect,\n  But them chumps is like ray Charles,\n  Cause they ain't seen no money yet.\n  Trash rappers I tax and spark,\n  I be wettin' niggas up like water rides at action park.\n  A nigga stuck me, and that ain't funny son,\n  So I got money gun, they wet him and his honey bun.\n  Cause phony faggots I froze, it's a fact,\n  I flip fast on foes with fabulous fantastic flows.\n  L is the rebel type, I'm rough as a metal pipe,\n  Fuck a benz, cause I could pull skins on a pedal-bike.\n  Props, I got the most, no mc comes close,coast-to-coast,\n  Shows I host, foes I roast, adios, I'm ghost\n  [Chorus]\n  Yo, street ? in new york is a place this nigga stands\n  With a machete I'm a crazy Eddie scissor hands.\n  Born with such a thirst to kill,\n  I can tap 200 quarters from a $50 bill.\n  Cuttin' bitch-niggas down with a hundred pound axe\n  Like I was raised by psycho-crazed lumberjacks.\n  So in a battle I be stabbin',choppin' M-C'ss like trees,\n  Piece-by-piece buildin' cabins.\n  I'm a maniac magician, Abra cadabra,\n  Makin' pain appear cause I'm-a grab arusty chain to make a noose\n  To choke your ass so hard, you're spittin' fuckin' adam's apple juice.\n  So come check the magic show by Deshawn,\n  And witness the way I put you to death with a magic wand.\n  Turnin' your home to a casket,\n  Turn your wife into a widow and your son into a bastard.\n  Cause I love to keep M-C's sufferin',\n  Beggin' for big, heavy bags of bufferin'.\n  Baseball battin' 'em, splattin' 'em,\n  So many homicide records, my cases went platinum.\n  D'shawn is nice,\n  Known for givin' out head cracks without touchin' dice.\n  Just pain and punishment from the boogie down bronxter,\n  D'shawn the maniac street mobster.\n  [Chorus]\n  It's the f-I-n-e-double-s-e,\n  Don't play or stress me\n  Cause that shit don't impress me\n  I make papes off the shit I create, and then dictate\n  So get your motherfuckin' shit straight\n  I got skills and I'm hard to kill,\n  So y'all bitch-ass rappes better chill and just guard your grill\n  You grab a mic and always get hype\n  Talkin' bout fuckin' niggas up\n  When you can bearly beat your dick right\n  So stop ridin' my dilznick\n  Cause I can still kick the ill shit on the motherfuckin' real tip\n  Hit like foreman when I'm brawlin'\n  Those who think I'm fallin, I'll play your monkey-ass like a organ\n  I got crazy niggas in the city noid\n  Got mad bitches, but it's not cause I'm a motherfuckin' pretty-boy\n  I'm ruthless, I'm not on that goody-goody tip\n  That shit played out with that beat street/electric boogie shit\n  I'll stomp any rapper that you ?\n  If they ass is weak, they better chill and grab a seat\n  And go 'head with they master plan\n  Stevie wonder probably see me 'fore half you rappers can\n  You can't hang and you're fallin' fast\n  You rappers that's trash better dash and start haulin' ass\n  Cause I'm out to rag shit\n  Fuck up a show, collect my dough\n  And step off with a bad bitch\n  Spectators always have the best time\n  When they come to a show and hear a funky lord finesse rhyme\n  I'm out to get bigger, lounge and make rich figures\n  You'll never catch finesse associating with bitch niggas\n  I work overtime when it's time to go for mine\n  Crab-ass rappers, don't even front cause y'all know the time\n  So it's time for me to step\n  Peace to showbiz and ag and I'm off to the left\n  [Chorus]\n  Check-check-check it a to the g is gonna wreck it.\n  On stage, on my record, so nigga don't forget it.\n  I'm the man. the one-man-band is on my right hand.\n  (his name is show nitwit, so get wit the program)\n  I get a hit from my Buddha blessed.\n  Turn my hat to the back, now let's see who's the best.\n  I like my pockets fat, never ever flat.\n  Niggas wanna jack, my .45 ain't havin' that.\n  Hoes get no dough, so why try?\n  Think it's gonna be a hit 'n' run? wrong, it's a drive-by.\n  Niggas catchin' tantrums,because your girl's never safe around\n  The midnight phantom.\n  They predicted I'm-a fall,\n  They must be down with Michael Jackson cause that shit is off the wall.\n  You don't believe me, ask that brother show,\n  Snatchin' hotties, grabbin' hotties, lettin' mothafuckers know.\n  You come wrong if you don't come strong,\n  You better catch wreck! mothafucker, I made the song.\n  Styles will vary, they won't carry over.\n  Don't fuck with no devil, I'd rather marry Oprah.\n  Yeah, you got it, I'm pro-black,\n  And my skills are so phat, I pay my dues, I don't owe jack.\n  You bite my style, I can spot it.\n  Tryin' real hard to get it,\n  You can forget it, because you don't got it.\n  And my skills are excellent, diggin' in the crates\n  And it's time to represent!\n  [Chorus]\n"},{"id":12004712,"name":"Represent (feat. Big L, Deshawn & Lord Finesse)","trackName":"Represent (feat. Big L, Deshawn & Lord Finesse)","artistName":"Showbiz & A.G.","albumName":"Runaway Slave","duration":353.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"[A.G.]\nAww yeah, the A to the motherfuckin G is back\nWord to the motherfuckin Goodfellas\nI got two of my boys here, newest members of the D.I.T.C.\nSpeak up\n[Big L]\nYo this the Big motherfuckin L from 139 and Lennox y'knahmsayin?\nSayin whassup to Showbiz & A.G. cause they got it goin on!\n[D'Shawn]\nYo this the baldheaded assassin, D'Shawny Thunder\nRepresentin with my peoples Diggin in the Crates\nPeace to my brothers on 1-2-9, Uptown\n[A.G.]\nAww yeah, knahmsayin? Look out\nD.I.T.C. in e-motherfuckin-effect; LETHAL!\n\n(\"I'm the calm one, but my crew is sorta sick\")\n[A.G.] Yeah, Big L is the first to represent\n[Verse One: Big L]\nYo, on the mic is Big L, that brother who kicks flav God\nKnown for sendin garbage MC's to the graveyard\nI pack a gat and not a slingshot\nStep to this and get a ass-whoopin like Rodney King got\nOr get beat to your death like Cochise\nMy laws is no peace, fuck the police\nMC's be braggin about cash they collect\nbut them chumps is like Ray Charles\ncause they ain't seen no money yet\nTrash rappers I tax and spark\nI be wettin niggaz up like water rides in Action Park\nA nigga stuck me, and that ain't funny son\nSo I got money Dunn, they wet him and his honey bun\nCause phony faggots I froze, it's a fact\nI flip fast on foes with fabulous fantastic flows\nL is the rebel type, I'm rough as a metal pipe\nFuck a Benz, cause I could pull skins on a pedal-bike!\nProps, I got the most, no MC comes close\nCoast-to-coast, shows I host, foes I roast\nAdios, I'm ghost\n\n(\"I'm the calm one, but my crew is sorta sick\")\n[A.G.] Grab the mic D'Shawn, because you gotta represent\n[Verse Two: D'Shawn]\nYo, street corners in New York is the place this nigga stand\nWith a machete I'm a crazy Eddie Scissorhands\nBorn with such a thirst to kill\nI can tap 200 quarters from a $50 bill\nCuttin bitch-niggaz down with a hundred pound axe\nlike I was raised by psycho-crazed lumberjacks\nSo in a battle I be stabbin\nChoppin MC's like trees, piece-by-piece buildin cabins\nI'm a maniac magician, abra cadabra\nMakin pain appear cause I'ma grab a\nrusty chain to make a noose; to choke your ass so hard\nyou're spittin' fuckin' Adam's Apple juice\nSo come check the magic show by D'Shawn\nAnd witness the way I put you to death with a magic wand\nTurnin your home to a casket\nTurn your wife into a widow and your son into a bastard\nCause I love to keep MC's sufferin\nBeggin for big, heavy bags of Bufferin\nBaseball battin 'em, splattin' 'em\nSo many homicide records, my cases went platinum\nD'Shawn is nice\nKnown for givin out headcracks, without touchin dice\nJust pain and punishment from the Boogie Down Bronxter\nD'Shawn the maniac street monster\n\n(\"I'm the calm one, but my crew is sorta sick\")\n[A.G.] It's time to get funky, so you better represent\n(\"I'm the calm one, but my crew is sorta sick\")\n[A.G.] C'mon Lord Finesse, cause you gotta represent\n[Verse Three: Lord Finesse]\nIt's the F-I-N-E-double-S-E, don't play or stress me\nCause that shit don't impress me\nI make papes off the shit I create, and then dictate\nSo get your motherfuckin shit straight\nI got skills and I'm hard to kill\nSo y'all bitch-ass rappers better chill and just guard your grill\nY'all grab a mic and always gettin hype\nTalkin bout fuckin niggaz up When you can bearly beat your dick right\nSo stop ridin my dilznick\nCause I can still kick the ill shit on the motherfuckin real tip\nHit like Foreman when I'm brawlin\nThose who think I'm fallin, I'll play your monkey-ass like a organ\nI got crazy niggaz in the city 'noid\nGot mad bitches, but it's not cause I'm a motherfuckin pretty-boy\nI'm ruthless, I'm not on that goody-goody tip\nThat shit played out with that Beat Street/Electric Boogie shit\nI'll stomp any rapper that you have compete\nIf they ass is weak, they better chill and grab a seat\nAnd go 'head with they master plan\nStevie Wonder probably see me 'fore half you rappers can\nYou can't hang and you're fallin fast\nYou rappers that's trash better dash and start haulin ass\nCause I'm out to wreck shit\nFuck up a show, collect my dough and step off with a bad bitch\nSpectators always have the best time\nWhen they come to a show and hear a funky Lord Finesse rhyme\nI'm out to get bigger, lounge and make rich figures\nYou'll never catch Finesse associating with bitch niggaz\nI work overtime when it's time to go for mine\nCrab-ass rappers, don't even front cause ya'll know the time\nSo it's time for me to step\nPeace to Showbiz & A.G., and I'm off to the left\n\n(\"I'm the calm one, but my crew is sorta sick\")\n[A.G.] When my crew gets sick, you know I gotta represent\n(\"I'm the calm one, but my crew is sorta sick\")\n[A.G.] When my crew gets sick, you know I gotta represent\n[Verse Four: A.G.]\nCheck-check-check it; A to the G is gonna wreck it\nOn stage, on my record, so nigga don't forget it\nI'm the man - the One-Man-Band is on my right hand\n(\"His name is Show nit-wit, so get with the program\")\nI take a hit from the buddha blessed\nTurn my hat to the back, now let's see who's the best\nI like my pockets fat, never ever flat\nNiggaz wanna jack, my .45 ain't havin that\nHoes get no dough, so why try?\nYou think it's gonna be a hit 'n' run? Wrong, it's a drive-by\nNiggaz catchin tantrums\nBecause your girl's never safe around the Midnight Phantom\nThey predicted I'ma fall?\nThey must be down with Michael Jackson cause that shit is \"Off the Wall\"\nYou don't believe me, ask that brother Show\n(Snatchin hotties, grabbin hotties, lettin mothafuckers know)\nYou come wrong if you don't come strong\n\"YOU BETTER CATCH WRECK!\" Motherfucker, I made the song\nStyles will vary, they won't carry over\nDon't fuck with no Devil, I'd rather marry Oprah\nYeah, you got it, I'm pro-black\nAnd my skills are so phat, I pay my dues, I don't owe jack\nYou bite my style, I can spot it\nTryin' real hard to get it, you can forget it, because you don't got it\nAnd my skills are excellent\nDiggin' in the Crates and it's time to represent\n\n(\"I'm the calm one, but my crew is sorta sick\")\n[A.G.] Big L and D'Shawn, yeah they had to represent\n(\"I'm the calm one, but my crew is sorta sick\")\n[A.G.] Lord Finesse and A.G., yeah we had to represent\n\n(\"I'm the calm one, but my crew is sorta sick\")\n(\"I'm the calm one, but my crew is sorta sick\")\n(\"I'm the calm one, but my crew is sorta sick\")\n(\"I'm the calm one, but my crew is sorta sick\")\n(\"I'm the calm one, but my crew is sorta sick\")\n(\"I'm the calm one, but my crew is sorta sick\")\n(\"I'm the calm one, but my crew is sorta sick\")\n(\"I'm the calm one, but my crew is sorta sick\")","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Represent (feat. Big L, Deshawn & Lord Finesse)\n  artist: Showbiz & A.G.\n  album: Runaway Slave\n  duration_ms: 353000\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  [A.G.]\n  Aww yeah, the A to the motherfuckin G is back\n  Word to the motherfuckin Goodfellas\n  I got two of my boys here, newest members of the D.I.T.C.\n  Speak up\n  [Big L]\n  Yo this the Big motherfuckin L from 139 and Lennox y'knahmsayin?\n  Sayin whassup to Showbiz & A.G. cause they got it goin on!\n  [D'Shawn]\n  Yo this the baldheaded assassin, D'Shawny Thunder\n  Representin with my peoples Diggin in the Crates\n  Peace to my brothers on 1-2-9, Uptown\n  [A.G.]\n  Aww yeah, knahmsayin? Look out\n  D.I.T.C. in e-motherfuckin-effect; LETHAL!\n\n  (\"I'm the calm one, but my crew is sorta sick\")\n  [A.G.] Yeah, Big L is the first to represent\n  [Verse One: Big L]\n  Yo, on the mic is Big L, that brother who kicks flav God\n  Known for sendin garbage MC's to the graveyard\n  I pack a gat and not a slingshot\n  Step to this and get a ass-whoopin like Rodney King got\n  Or get beat to your death like Cochise\n  My laws is no peace, fuck the police\n  MC's be braggin about cash they collect\n  but them chumps is like Ray Charles\n  cause they ain't seen no money yet\n  Trash rappers I tax and spark\n  I be wettin niggaz up like water rides in Action Park\n  A nigga stuck me, and that ain't funny son\n  So I got money Dunn, they wet him and his honey bun\n  Cause phony faggots I froze, it's a fact\n  I flip fast on foes with fabulous fantastic flows\n  L is the rebel type, I'm rough as a metal pipe\n  Fuck a Benz, cause I could pull skins on a pedal-bike!\n  Props, I got the most, no MC comes close\n  Coast-to-coast, shows I host, foes I roast\n  Adios, I'm ghost\n\n  (\"I'm the calm one, but my crew is sorta sick\")\n  [A.G.] Grab the mic D'Shawn, because you gotta represent\n  [Verse Two: D'Shawn]\n  Yo, street corners in New York is the place this nigga stand\n  With a machete I'm a crazy Eddie Scissorhands\n  Born with such a thirst to kill\n  I can tap 200 quarters from a $50 bill\n  Cuttin bitch-niggaz down with a hundred pound axe\n  like I was raised by psycho-crazed lumberjacks\n  So in a battle I be stabbin\n  Choppin MC's like trees, piece-by-piece buildin cabins\n  I'm a maniac magician, abra cadabra\n  Makin pain appear cause I'ma grab a\n  rusty chain to make a noose; to choke your ass so hard\n  you're spittin' fuckin' Adam's Apple juice\n  So come check the magic show by D'Shawn\n  And witness the way I put you to death with a magic wand\n  Turnin your home to a casket\n  Turn your wife into a widow and your son into a bastard\n  Cause I love to keep MC's sufferin\n  Beggin for big, heavy bags of Bufferin\n  Baseball battin 'em, splattin' 'em\n  So many homicide records, my cases went platinum\n  D'Shawn is nice\n  Known for givin out headcracks, without touchin dice\n  Just pain and punishment from the Boogie Down Bronxter\n  D'Shawn the maniac street monster\n\n  (\"I'm the calm one, but my crew is sorta sick\")\n  [A.G.] It's time to get funky, so you better represent\n  (\"I'm the calm one, but my crew is sorta sick\")\n  [A.G.] C'mon Lord Finesse, cause you gotta represent\n  [Verse Three: Lord Finesse]\n  It's the F-I-N-E-double-S-E, don't play or stress me\n  Cause that shit don't impress me\n  I make papes off the shit I create, and then dictate\n  So get your motherfuckin shit straight\n  I got skills and I'm hard to kill\n  So y'all bitch-ass rappers better chill and just guard your grill\n  Y'all grab a mic and always gettin hype\n  Talkin bout fuckin niggaz up When you can bearly beat your dick right\n  So stop ridin my dilznick\n  Cause I can still kick the ill shit on the motherfuckin real tip\n  Hit like Foreman when I'm brawlin\n  Those who think I'm fallin, I'll play your monkey-ass like a organ\n  I got crazy niggaz in the city 'noid\n  Got mad bitches, but it's not cause I'm a motherfuckin pretty-boy\n  I'm ruthless, I'm not on that goody-goody tip\n  That shit played out with that Beat Street/Electric Boogie shit\n  I'll stomp any rapper that you have compete\n  If they ass is weak, they better chill and grab a seat\n  And go 'head with they master plan\n  Stevie Wonder probably see me 'fore half you rappers can\n  You can't hang and you're fallin fast\n  You rappers that's trash better dash and start haulin ass\n  Cause I'm out to wreck shit\n  Fuck up a show, collect my dough and step off with a bad bitch\n  Spectators always have the best time\n  When they come to a show and hear a funky Lord Finesse rhyme\n  I'm out to get bigger, lounge and make rich figures\n  You'll never catch Finesse associating with bitch niggaz\n  I work overtime when it's time to go for mine\n  Crab-ass rappers, don't even front cause ya'll know the time\n  So it's time for me to step\n  Peace to Showbiz & A.G., and I'm off to the left\n\n  (\"I'm the calm one, but my crew is sorta sick\")\n  [A.G.] When my crew gets sick, you know I gotta represent\n  (\"I'm the calm one, but my crew is sorta sick\")\n  [A.G.] When my crew gets sick, you know I gotta represent\n  [Verse Four: A.G.]\n  Check-check-check it; A to the G is gonna wreck it\n  On stage, on my record, so nigga don't forget it\n  I'm the man - the One-Man-Band is on my right hand\n  (\"His name is Show nit-wit, so get with the program\")\n  I take a hit from the buddha blessed\n  Turn my hat to the back, now let's see who's the best\n  I like my pockets fat, never ever flat\n  Niggaz wanna jack, my .45 ain't havin that\n  Hoes get no dough, so why try?\n  You think it's gonna be a hit 'n' run? Wrong, it's a drive-by\n  Niggaz catchin tantrums\n  Because your girl's never safe around the Midnight Phantom\n  They predicted I'ma fall?\n  They must be down with Michael Jackson cause that shit is \"Off the Wall\"\n  You don't believe me, ask that brother Show\n  (Snatchin hotties, grabbin hotties, lettin mothafuckers know)\n  You come wrong if you don't come strong\n  \"YOU BETTER CATCH WRECK!\" Motherfucker, I made the song\n  Styles will vary, they won't carry over\n  Don't fuck with no Devil, I'd rather marry Oprah\n  Yeah, you got it, I'm pro-black\n  And my skills are so phat, I pay my dues, I don't owe jack\n  You bite my style, I can spot it\n  Tryin' real hard to get it, you can forget it, because you don't got it\n  And my skills are excellent\n  Diggin' in the Crates and it's time to represent\n\n  (\"I'm the calm one, but my crew is sorta sick\")\n  [A.G.] Big L and D'Shawn, yeah they had to represent\n  (\"I'm the calm one, but my crew is sorta sick\")\n  [A.G.] Lord Finesse and A.G., yeah we had to represent\n\n  (\"I'm the calm one, but my crew is sorta sick\")\n  (\"I'm the calm one, but my crew is sorta sick\")\n  (\"I'm the calm one, but my crew is sorta sick\")\n  (\"I'm the calm one, but my crew is sorta sick\")\n  (\"I'm the calm one, but my crew is sorta sick\")\n  (\"I'm the calm one, but my crew is sorta sick\")\n  (\"I'm the calm one, but my crew is sorta sick\")\n  (\"I'm the calm one, but my crew is sorta sick\")\n"},{"id":35335069,"name":"Represent","trackName":"Represent","artistName":"Showbiz & A.G. Big L Deshawn Lord Finesse","albumName":"Runaway Slave","duration":353.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Ah yeah, the H to the motherfuckin' G is back\nRollin' with the motherfuckin' Goodfellas\nAnd I got two of my boys here\nNew members of D.I.T.C., speak up\n\nYo, this the big motherfuckin' L from 139 and Lenox\nYou know what I'm sayin'? Sayin' what's up to Showbiz and AG\n'Cause they got it goin' on\n\nYo, this the bald-headed assassin, D-Shawn E. Thunder\nRepresent with my peoples diggin' in the crates\nPeace to my brothers from 129 Uptown\n\nAh yeah, know what I'm sayin'? Look out\nD.I.T.C. in the motherfuckin' effect\nLethal\n\nI'm the calm one, but my crew is sorta sick\nYeah, Big L is the first to represent\n\nYo, on the mic is Big L, that brother who kicks Flave God\nKnown for sendin' garbage MCs to the graveyard\nI pack a gat, not a slingshot\n\nStep to this and get a ass whoopin' like Rodney King got\nOr get beat to your death like Cold Cheese\nMy laws is no peace, fuck the police\n\nMCs be braggin' about cash they collect\nBut them chumps is like Ray Charles 'cause they ain't see no money yet\n\nTrash rappers I tax as bunk\nI be wettin' niggas up like water rides in Action Park\nA nigga stuffed me, and that ain't funny, son\nSo I got money gun, they wet 'em and it's honey bun\n'Cause phony faggots I froze, it's a fact\nI flip fast on foes with fabulous fantastic flows\nL is the rebel type, I'm rough as a metal pipe\nFuck a Benz 'cause I can pull skins on a pedal bike\nProps I got the most, no MC comes close\nCoast to coast shows I host, foes I roast, adios, I'm ghost\n\nI'm the calm one, but my crew is sorta sick\nGrab the mic, D-Shawn, because you gotta represent\n\nYo, street corners in New York is the place this nigga stand\nWith a machete, I'm a crazy Eddie Scissorhand\nBorn with such a thirst to kill\nI can chop two hundred quarters from a fifty dollar bill\n\nCuttin' bitch niggas down with a hundred pound axe\nLike I was raised by psycho crazed lumberjacks\nSo in a battle I be stabbin'\nChoppin' MCs like trees, piece by piece buildin' cabins\n\nI'm a maniac magician, abracadabra\nMakin' pain appear 'cause I'm a grabber\nRust thief chains and make a noose\nTo choke your ass so hard\nYou spittin' fuckin' Adam's apple juice\nSo come check the magic show by D-Shawn\nAnd witness the way I put you to death with the magic wand\nTurnin' your home to a casket\nTurn your wife into a widow and your son into a bastard\n\n'Cause I love to keep MCs sufferin'\nBeggin' for big heavy bags of Bufferin\nBaseball battin' 'em, splattin' 'em\nSo many homicide records, my case is went platinum\n\nD-Shawn is nice\n\nKnown for givin' out head cracks without touchin' dice\nJust painful punishment from the boogie down bronxster\nD-Shawn, the maniac street monster\n\nI'm the calm one, but my crew is sorta sick\nIt's time to get funky, so you better represent\nI'm the calm one, but my crew is sorta sick\nCome on, Law Finesse, 'cause you gotta represent\n\nIt's the F-I-N-E double S-E\nDon't play or stress me, 'cause that shit don't impress me\nI make papes off the shit I create and then dictate\nSo get your motherfuckin' shit straight\nI got skills and I'm hard to kill\nSo y'all bitch-ass rappers better chill and just guard your grill\nY'all grab a mic and always get hype\nTalk about fuckin' niggas up when you can barely beat your dick right\n\nSo stop ridin' my deals, Nick\n'Cause I can still kick the ill shit on the motherfuckin' real tip\nHit like Foreman when I'm ballin'\n\nThose who think I'm foolin', I play your monkey ass like a organ\nI got crazy niggas in the city, know it\nGot mad bitches but it's not 'cause I'm a motherfuckin' pretty boy\nI'm ruthless, I'm not on that goody-goody tip\nThat shit played out with that B-Street Electric Boogie shit\nI stomp any rapper that should half compete\nIf they ass is weak, they better chill and grab a seat\nAnd go 'head with they master plan\n\nStevie Wonder probably see me before half you rappers can\nYou can't hang and you're fallin' fast\nYour rap is that's trash, better dash and start haulin' ass\n'Cause I'm out for rag shit\nFuck 'em for show, collect my dough and step off with a bad bitch\n\nSpectators always have the best time\n\nWhen they come to a show and hear a funky Law Finesse rhyme\nI'm out to get bigger, lounge and make quick figures\nYou'll never catch Finesse associatin' with bitch niggas\n\nI work overtime when it's time to go for mine\nCrab-ass rappers don't even front 'cause y'all know the time\nSo it's time for me to step\n\nPeace to Showbiz and AG, and I'm off to the left\n\nI'm the calm one, but my crew is sorta sick\nWhen my crew gets sick, you know I gotta represent\nI'm the calm one, but my crew is sorta sick\nWhen my crew gets sick, you know I gotta represent\n\nCheck, check, check it\nH to the G is gonna wreck it\nOn stage on my record, so nigga don't forget it\nI'm the man, the one-man band is on my right hand\nHis name is Show, nitwit, so get with the program\nI take a hit from the Buddha bless\nTurn my hat to the back, now let's see who's the best\nI like my pockets fat, never ever flat\nNiggas wanna jack my .45, ain't havin' that\nHoes get no dough, so why try?\n\nYou think it's gonna be a hit and run? Wrong, it's a drive-by\nNiggas catchin' tantrums\n\nBecause your girl's never safe around the Midnight Phantom\n\nThey predicted I'ma fall\n\nThey must be down with Michael Jackson '\nCause that shit is off the wall\nYou don't believe me? Ask that brother Show\nSnatchin' hotties, grabbin' hotties, lettin' motherfuckers know\nYou come wrong if you don't come strong\n\nYou better catch wreck, motherfucker, I made the song\nStyles will vary, they won't carry over\nDon't fuck with no devil, I'd rather marry Oprah\nYeah, you got it, I'm faux black\nAnd my skills are so fat, I paid my dues, I don't owe jack\nYou bite my style, I can spot it\nTryin' real hard to get it, you can forget it\nBecause you don't got it, and my skills are excellent\n\nDiggin' in the crates and it's time to represent\n\nI'm the calm one, but my crew is sorta sick\n\nBig L and D-Shawn, yeah, they had to represent\nI'm the calm one, but my crew is sorta sick\n\nLaw Finesse and AG, yeah, we had to represent\nI'm the calm one, but my crew is sorta sick\nI'm the calm one, but my crew is sorta sick\nI'm the calm one, but my crew is sorta sick\nI'm the calm one, but my crew is sorta sick\nI'm the calm one, but my crew is sorta sick\nI'm the calm one, but my crew is sorta sick\nI'm the calm one, but my crew is sorta sick","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Represent\n  artist: Showbiz & A.G. Big L Deshawn Lord Finesse\n  album: Runaway Slave\n  duration_ms: 353000\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  Ah yeah, the H to the motherfuckin' G is back\n  Rollin' with the motherfuckin' Goodfellas\n  And I got two of my boys here\n  New members of D.I.T.C., speak up\n\n  Yo, this the big motherfuckin' L from 139 and Lenox\n  You know what I'm sayin'? Sayin' what's up to Showbiz and AG\n  'Cause they got it goin' on\n\n  Yo, this the bald-headed assassin, D-Shawn E. Thunder\n  Represent with my peoples diggin' in the crates\n  Peace to my brothers from 129 Uptown\n\n  Ah yeah, know what I'm sayin'? Look out\n  D.I.T.C. in the motherfuckin' effect\n  Lethal\n\n  I'm the calm one, but my crew is sorta sick\n  Yeah, Big L is the first to represent\n\n  Yo, on the mic is Big L, that brother who kicks Flave God\n  Known for sendin' garbage MCs to the graveyard\n  I pack a gat, not a slingshot\n\n  Step to this and get a ass whoopin' like Rodney King got\n  Or get beat to your death like Cold Cheese\n  My laws is no peace, fuck the police\n\n  MCs be braggin' about cash they collect\n  But them chumps is like Ray Charles 'cause they ain't see no money yet\n\n  Trash rappers I tax as bunk\n  I be wettin' niggas up like water rides in Action Park\n  A nigga stuffed me, and that ain't funny, son\n  So I got money gun, they wet 'em and it's honey bun\n  'Cause phony faggots I froze, it's a fact\n  I flip fast on foes with fabulous fantastic flows\n  L is the rebel type, I'm rough as a metal pipe\n  Fuck a Benz 'cause I can pull skins on a pedal bike\n  Props I got the most, no MC comes close\n  Coast to coast shows I host, foes I roast, adios, I'm ghost\n\n  I'm the calm one, but my crew is sorta sick\n  Grab the mic, D-Shawn, because you gotta represent\n\n  Yo, street corners in New York is the place this nigga stand\n  With a machete, I'm a crazy Eddie Scissorhand\n  Born with such a thirst to kill\n  I can chop two hundred quarters from a fifty dollar bill\n\n  Cuttin' bitch niggas down with a hundred pound axe\n  Like I was raised by psycho crazed lumberjacks\n  So in a battle I be stabbin'\n  Choppin' MCs like trees, piece by piece buildin' cabins\n\n  I'm a maniac magician, abracadabra\n  Makin' pain appear 'cause I'm a grabber\n  Rust thief chains and make a noose\n  To choke your ass so hard\n  You spittin' fuckin' Adam's apple juice\n  So come check the magic show by D-Shawn\n  And witness the way I put you to death with the magic wand\n  Turnin' your home to a casket\n  Turn your wife into a widow and your son into a bastard\n\n  'Cause I love to keep MCs sufferin'\n  Beggin' for big heavy bags of Bufferin\n  Baseball battin' 'em, splattin' 'em\n  So many homicide records, my case is went platinum\n\n  D-Shawn is nice\n\n  Known for givin' out head cracks without touchin' dice\n  Just painful punishment from the boogie down bronxster\n  D-Shawn, the maniac street monster\n\n  I'm the calm one, but my crew is sorta sick\n  It's time to get funky, so you better represent\n  I'm the calm one, but my crew is sorta sick\n  Come on, Law Finesse, 'cause you gotta represent\n\n  It's the F-I-N-E double S-E\n  Don't play or stress me, 'cause that shit don't impress me\n  I make papes off the shit I create and then dictate\n  So get your motherfuckin' shit straight\n  I got skills and I'm hard to kill\n  So y'all bitch-ass rappers better chill and just guard your grill\n  Y'all grab a mic and always get hype\n  Talk about fuckin' niggas up when you can barely beat your dick right\n\n  So stop ridin' my deals, Nick\n  'Cause I can still kick the ill shit on the motherfuckin' real tip\n  Hit like Foreman when I'm ballin'\n\n  Those who think I'm foolin', I play your monkey ass like a organ\n  I got crazy niggas in the city, know it\n  Got mad bitches but it's not 'cause I'm a motherfuckin' pretty boy\n  I'm ruthless, I'm not on that goody-goody tip\n  That shit played out with that B-Street Electric Boogie shit\n  I stomp any rapper that should half compete\n  If they ass is weak, they better chill and grab a seat\n  And go 'head with they master plan\n\n  Stevie Wonder probably see me before half you rappers can\n  You can't hang and you're fallin' fast\n  Your rap is that's trash, better dash and start haulin' ass\n  'Cause I'm out for rag shit\n  Fuck 'em for show, collect my dough and step off with a bad bitch\n\n  Spectators always have the best time\n\n  When they come to a show and hear a funky Law Finesse rhyme\n  I'm out to get bigger, lounge and make quick figures\n  You'll never catch Finesse associatin' with bitch niggas\n\n  I work overtime when it's time to go for mine\n  Crab-ass rappers don't even front 'cause y'all know the time\n  So it's time for me to step\n\n  Peace to Showbiz and AG, and I'm off to the left\n\n  I'm the calm one, but my crew is sorta sick\n  When my crew gets sick, you know I gotta represent\n  I'm the calm one, but my crew is sorta sick\n  When my crew gets sick, you know I gotta represent\n\n  Check, check, check it\n  H to the G is gonna wreck it\n  On stage on my record, so nigga don't forget it\n  I'm the man, the one-man band is on my right hand\n  His name is Show, nitwit, so get with the program\n  I take a hit from the Buddha bless\n  Turn my hat to the back, now let's see who's the best\n  I like my pockets fat, never ever flat\n  Niggas wanna jack my .45, ain't havin' that\n  Hoes get no dough, so why try?\n\n  You think it's gonna be a hit and run? Wrong, it's a drive-by\n  Niggas catchin' tantrums\n\n  Because your girl's never safe around the Midnight Phantom\n\n  They predicted I'ma fall\n\n  They must be down with Michael Jackson '\n  Cause that shit is off the wall\n  You don't believe me? Ask that brother Show\n  Snatchin' hotties, grabbin' hotties, lettin' motherfuckers know\n  You come wrong if you don't come strong\n\n  You better catch wreck, motherfucker, I made the song\n  Styles will vary, they won't carry over\n  Don't fuck with no devil, I'd rather marry Oprah\n  Yeah, you got it, I'm faux black\n  And my skills are so fat, I paid my dues, I don't owe jack\n  You bite my style, I can spot it\n  Tryin' real hard to get it, you can forget it\n  Because you don't got it, and my skills are excellent\n\n  Diggin' in the crates and it's time to represent\n\n  I'm the calm one, but my crew is sorta sick\n\n  Big L and D-Shawn, yeah, they had to represent\n  I'm the calm one, but my crew is sorta sick\n\n  Law Finesse and AG, yeah, we had to represent\n  I'm the calm one, but my crew is sorta sick\n  I'm the calm one, but my crew is sorta sick\n  I'm the calm one, but my crew is sorta sick\n  I'm the calm one, but my crew is sorta sick\n  I'm the calm one, but my crew is sorta sick\n  I'm the calm one, but my crew is sorta sick\n  I'm the calm one, but my crew is sorta sick\n"},{"id":10604514,"name":"Represent","trackName":"Represent","artistName":"Showbiz & A.G. feat. Big L, Deshawn & Lord Finesse","albumName":"Runaway Slave","duration":355.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"[A.G.]\nAww yeah, the A to the motherfuckin G is back\nWord to the motherfuckin Goodfellas\nI got two of my boys here, newest members of the D.I.T.C.\nSpeak up\n[Big L]\nYo this the Big motherfuckin L from 139 and Lennox y'knahmsayin?\nSayin whassup to Showbiz & A.G. cause they got it goin on!\n[D'Shawn]\nYo this the baldheaded assassin, D'Shawny Thunder\nRepresentin with my peoples Diggin in the Crates\nPeace to my brothers on 1-2-9, Uptown\n[A.G.]\nAww yeah, knahmsayin? Look out\nD.I.T.C. in e-motherfuckin-effect; LETHAL!\n\n(\"I'm the calm one, but my crew is sorta sick\")\n[A.G.] Yeah, Big L is the first to represent\n[Verse One: Big L]\nYo, on the mic is Big L, that brother who kicks flav God\nKnown for sendin garbage MC's to the graveyard\nI pack a gat and not a slingshot\nStep to this and get a ass-whoopin like Rodney King got\nOr get beat to your death like Cochise\nMy laws is no peace, fuck the police\nMC's be braggin about cash they collect\nbut them chumps is like Ray Charles\ncause they ain't seen no money yet\nTrash rappers I tax and spark\nI be wettin niggaz up like water rides in Action Park\nA nigga stuck me, and that ain't funny son\nSo I got money Dunn, they wet him and his honey bun\nCause phony faggots I froze, it's a fact\nI flip fast on foes with fabulous fantastic flows\nL is the rebel type, I'm rough as a metal pipe\nFuck a Benz, cause I could pull skins on a pedal-bike!\nProps, I got the most, no MC comes close\nCoast-to-coast, shows I host, foes I roast\nAdios, I'm ghost\n\n(\"I'm the calm one, but my crew is sorta sick\")\n[A.G.] Grab the mic D'Shawn, because you gotta represent\n[Verse Two: D'Shawn]\nYo, street corners in New York is the place this nigga stand\nWith a machete I'm a crazy Eddie Scissorhands\nBorn with such a thirst to kill\nI can tap 200 quarters from a $50 bill\nCuttin bitch-niggaz down with a hundred pound axe\nlike I was raised by psycho-crazed lumberjacks\nSo in a battle I be stabbin\nChoppin MC's like trees, piece-by-piece buildin cabins\nI'm a maniac magician, abra cadabra\nMakin pain appear cause I'ma grab a\nrusty chain to make a noose; to choke your ass so hard\nyou're spittin' fuckin' Adam's Apple juice\nSo come check the magic show by D'Shawn\nAnd witness the way I put you to death with a magic wand\nTurnin your home to a casket\nTurn your wife into a widow and your son into a bastard\nCause I love to keep MC's sufferin\nBeggin for big, heavy bags of Bufferin\nBaseball battin 'em, splattin' 'em\nSo many homicide records, my cases went platinum\nD'Shawn is nice\nKnown for givin out headcracks, without touchin dice\nJust pain and punishment from the Boogie Down Bronxter\nD'Shawn the maniac street monster\n\n(\"I'm the calm one, but my crew is sorta sick\")\n[A.G.] It's time to get funky, so you better represent\n(\"I'm the calm one, but my crew is sorta sick\")\n[A.G.] C'mon Lord Finesse, cause you gotta represent\n[Verse Three: Lord Finesse]\nIt's the F-I-N-E-double-S-E, don't play or stress me\nCause that shit don't impress me\nI make papes off the shit I create, and then dictate\nSo get your motherfuckin shit straight\nI got skills and I'm hard to kill\nSo y'all bitch-ass rappers better chill and just guard your grill\nY'all grab a mic and always gettin hype\nTalkin bout fuckin niggaz up When you can bearly beat your dick right\nSo stop ridin my dilznick\nCause I can still kick the ill shit on the motherfuckin real tip\nHit like Foreman when I'm brawlin\nThose who think I'm fallin, I'll play your monkey-ass like a organ\nI got crazy niggaz in the city 'noid\nGot mad bitches, but it's not cause I'm a motherfuckin pretty-boy\nI'm ruthless, I'm not on that goody-goody tip\nThat shit played out with that Beat Street/Electric Boogie shit\nI'll stomp any rapper that you have compete\nIf they ass is weak, they better chill and grab a seat\nAnd go 'head with they master plan\nStevie Wonder probably see me 'fore half you rappers can\nYou can't hang and you're fallin fast\nYou rappers that's trash better dash and start haulin ass\nCause I'm out to wreck shit\nFuck up a show, collect my dough and step off with a bad bitch\nSpectators always have the best time\nWhen they come to a show and hear a funky Lord Finesse rhyme\nI'm out to get bigger, lounge and make rich figures\nYou'll never catch Finesse associating with bitch niggaz\nI work overtime when it's time to go for mine\nCrab-ass rappers, don't even front cause ya'll know the time\nSo it's time for me to step\nPeace to Showbiz & A.G., and I'm off to the left\n\n(\"I'm the calm one, but my crew is sorta sick\")\n[A.G.] When my crew gets sick, you know I gotta represent\n(\"I'm the calm one, but my crew is sorta sick\")\n[A.G.] When my crew gets sick, you know I gotta represent\n[Verse Four: A.G.]\nCheck-check-check it; A to the G is gonna wreck it\nOn stage, on my record, so nigga don't forget it\nI'm the man - the One-Man-Band is on my right hand\n(\"His name is Show nit-wit, so get with the program\")\nI take a hit from the buddha blessed\nTurn my hat to the back, now let's see who's the best\nI like my pockets fat, never ever flat\nNiggaz wanna jack, my .45 ain't havin that\nHoes get no dough, so why try?\nYou think it's gonna be a hit 'n' run? Wrong, it's a drive-by\nNiggaz catchin tantrums\nBecause your girl's never safe around the Midnight Phantom\nThey predicted I'ma fall?\nThey must be down with Michael Jackson cause that shit is \"Off the Wall\"\nYou don't believe me, ask that brother Show\n(Snatchin hotties, grabbin hotties, lettin mothafuckers know)\nYou come wrong if you don't come strong\n\"YOU BETTER CATCH WRECK!\" Motherfucker, I made the song\nStyles will vary, they won't carry over\nDon't fuck with no Devil, I'd rather marry Oprah\nYeah, you got it, I'm pro-black\nAnd my skills are so phat, I pay my dues, I don't owe jack\nYou bite my style, I can spot it\nTryin' real hard to get it, you can forget it, because you don't got it\nAnd my skills are excellent\nDiggin' in the Crates and it's time to represent\n\n(\"I'm the calm one, but my crew is sorta sick\")\n[A.G.] Big L and D'Shawn, yeah they had to represent\n(\"I'm the calm one, but my crew is sorta sick\")\n[A.G.] Lord Finesse and A.G., yeah we had to represent\n\n(\"I'm the calm one, but my crew is sorta sick\")\n(\"I'm the calm one, but my crew is sorta sick\")\n(\"I'm the calm one, but my crew is sorta sick\")\n(\"I'm the calm one, but my crew is sorta sick\")\n(\"I'm the calm one, but my crew is sorta sick\")\n(\"I'm the calm one, but my crew is sorta sick\")\n(\"I'm the calm one, but my crew is sorta sick\")\n(\"I'm the calm one, but my crew is sorta sick\")","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Represent\n  artist: Showbiz & A.G. feat. Big L, Deshawn & Lord Finesse\n  album: Runaway Slave\n  duration_ms: 355000\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  [A.G.]\n  Aww yeah, the A to the motherfuckin G is back\n  Word to the motherfuckin Goodfellas\n  I got two of my boys here, newest members of the D.I.T.C.\n  Speak up\n  [Big L]\n  Yo this the Big motherfuckin L from 139 and Lennox y'knahmsayin?\n  Sayin whassup to Showbiz & A.G. cause they got it goin on!\n  [D'Shawn]\n  Yo this the baldheaded assassin, D'Shawny Thunder\n  Representin with my peoples Diggin in the Crates\n  Peace to my brothers on 1-2-9, Uptown\n  [A.G.]\n  Aww yeah, knahmsayin? Look out\n  D.I.T.C. in e-motherfuckin-effect; LETHAL!\n\n  (\"I'm the calm one, but my crew is sorta sick\")\n  [A.G.] Yeah, Big L is the first to represent\n  [Verse One: Big L]\n  Yo, on the mic is Big L, that brother who kicks flav God\n  Known for sendin garbage MC's to the graveyard\n  I pack a gat and not a slingshot\n  Step to this and get a ass-whoopin like Rodney King got\n  Or get beat to your death like Cochise\n  My laws is no peace, fuck the police\n  MC's be braggin about cash they collect\n  but them chumps is like Ray Charles\n  cause they ain't seen no money yet\n  Trash rappers I tax and spark\n  I be wettin niggaz up like water rides in Action Park\n  A nigga stuck me, and that ain't funny son\n  So I got money Dunn, they wet him and his honey bun\n  Cause phony faggots I froze, it's a fact\n  I flip fast on foes with fabulous fantastic flows\n  L is the rebel type, I'm rough as a metal pipe\n  Fuck a Benz, cause I could pull skins on a pedal-bike!\n  Props, I got the most, no MC comes close\n  Coast-to-coast, shows I host, foes I roast\n  Adios, I'm ghost\n\n  (\"I'm the calm one, but my crew is sorta sick\")\n  [A.G.] Grab the mic D'Shawn, because you gotta represent\n  [Verse Two: D'Shawn]\n  Yo, street corners in New York is the place this nigga stand\n  With a machete I'm a crazy Eddie Scissorhands\n  Born with such a thirst to kill\n  I can tap 200 quarters from a $50 bill\n  Cuttin bitch-niggaz down with a hundred pound axe\n  like I was raised by psycho-crazed lumberjacks\n  So in a battle I be stabbin\n  Choppin MC's like trees, piece-by-piece buildin cabins\n  I'm a maniac magician, abra cadabra\n  Makin pain appear cause I'ma grab a\n  rusty chain to make a noose; to choke your ass so hard\n  you're spittin' fuckin' Adam's Apple juice\n  So come check the magic show by D'Shawn\n  And witness the way I put you to death with a magic wand\n  Turnin your home to a casket\n  Turn your wife into a widow and your son into a bastard\n  Cause I love to keep MC's sufferin\n  Beggin for big, heavy bags of Bufferin\n  Baseball battin 'em, splattin' 'em\n  So many homicide records, my cases went platinum\n  D'Shawn is nice\n  Known for givin out headcracks, without touchin dice\n  Just pain and punishment from the Boogie Down Bronxter\n  D'Shawn the maniac street monster\n\n  (\"I'm the calm one, but my crew is sorta sick\")\n  [A.G.] It's time to get funky, so you better represent\n  (\"I'm the calm one, but my crew is sorta sick\")\n  [A.G.] C'mon Lord Finesse, cause you gotta represent\n  [Verse Three: Lord Finesse]\n  It's the F-I-N-E-double-S-E, don't play or stress me\n  Cause that shit don't impress me\n  I make papes off the shit I create, and then dictate\n  So get your motherfuckin shit straight\n  I got skills and I'm hard to kill\n  So y'all bitch-ass rappers better chill and just guard your grill\n  Y'all grab a mic and always gettin hype\n  Talkin bout fuckin niggaz up When you can bearly beat your dick right\n  So stop ridin my dilznick\n  Cause I can still kick the ill shit on the motherfuckin real tip\n  Hit like Foreman when I'm brawlin\n  Those who think I'm fallin, I'll play your monkey-ass like a organ\n  I got crazy niggaz in the city 'noid\n  Got mad bitches, but it's not cause I'm a motherfuckin pretty-boy\n  I'm ruthless, I'm not on that goody-goody tip\n  That shit played out with that Beat Street/Electric Boogie shit\n  I'll stomp any rapper that you have compete\n  If they ass is weak, they better chill and grab a seat\n  And go 'head with they master plan\n  Stevie Wonder probably see me 'fore half you rappers can\n  You can't hang and you're fallin fast\n  You rappers that's trash better dash and start haulin ass\n  Cause I'm out to wreck shit\n  Fuck up a show, collect my dough and step off with a bad bitch\n  Spectators always have the best time\n  When they come to a show and hear a funky Lord Finesse rhyme\n  I'm out to get bigger, lounge and make rich figures\n  You'll never catch Finesse associating with bitch niggaz\n  I work overtime when it's time to go for mine\n  Crab-ass rappers, don't even front cause ya'll know the time\n  So it's time for me to step\n  Peace to Showbiz & A.G., and I'm off to the left\n\n  (\"I'm the calm one, but my crew is sorta sick\")\n  [A.G.] When my crew gets sick, you know I gotta represent\n  (\"I'm the calm one, but my crew is sorta sick\")\n  [A.G.] When my crew gets sick, you know I gotta represent\n  [Verse Four: A.G.]\n  Check-check-check it; A to the G is gonna wreck it\n  On stage, on my record, so nigga don't forget it\n  I'm the man - the One-Man-Band is on my right hand\n  (\"His name is Show nit-wit, so get with the program\")\n  I take a hit from the buddha blessed\n  Turn my hat to the back, now let's see who's the best\n  I like my pockets fat, never ever flat\n  Niggaz wanna jack, my .45 ain't havin that\n  Hoes get no dough, so why try?\n  You think it's gonna be a hit 'n' run? Wrong, it's a drive-by\n  Niggaz catchin tantrums\n  Because your girl's never safe around the Midnight Phantom\n  They predicted I'ma fall?\n  They must be down with Michael Jackson cause that shit is \"Off the Wall\"\n  You don't believe me, ask that brother Show\n  (Snatchin hotties, grabbin hotties, lettin mothafuckers know)\n  You come wrong if you don't come strong\n  \"YOU BETTER CATCH WRECK!\" Motherfucker, I made the song\n  Styles will vary, they won't carry over\n  Don't fuck with no Devil, I'd rather marry Oprah\n  Yeah, you got it, I'm pro-black\n  And my skills are so phat, I pay my dues, I don't owe jack\n  You bite my style, I can spot it\n  Tryin' real hard to get it, you can forget it, because you don't got it\n  And my skills are excellent\n  Diggin' in the Crates and it's time to represent\n\n  (\"I'm the calm one, but my crew is sorta sick\")\n  [A.G.] Big L and D'Shawn, yeah they had to represent\n  (\"I'm the calm one, but my crew is sorta sick\")\n  [A.G.] Lord Finesse and A.G., yeah we had to represent\n\n  (\"I'm the calm one, but my crew is sorta sick\")\n  (\"I'm the calm one, but my crew is sorta sick\")\n  (\"I'm the calm one, but my crew is sorta sick\")\n  (\"I'm the calm one, but my crew is sorta sick\")\n  (\"I'm the calm one, but my crew is sorta sick\")\n  (\"I'm the calm one, but my crew is sorta sick\")\n  (\"I'm the calm one, but my crew is sorta sick\")\n  (\"I'm the calm one, but my crew is sorta sick\")\n"}]