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show me what you got (freestyle) (g-unit, ras kass diss) - the game lyrics

[intro]
ayo skee
sound like pumps and the bumps to me, n*gga
this sh*t came off, n*gga, i was at the muhf*ckin’ eighth grade winter formal, n*gga, boogieing with some b*tch
some kinda crazy (black wall street) ass style [?] bamboo earrings, n*gga
yeah, member them n*gga? l.a. [?] [?] n*gga
just blaze
that n*gga hov sure can pick a f*ckin’ classic beat
man
yea

[verse 1]
chegy* check, n*gga microphone check, i’m the fire in the hole, the ace in the deck, yep
this ain’t remix, n*gga, this is street sh*t, i’m a menace to the rap game so peep it
big mike leak it
clue? love it, the doctor’s advocate, i’m back muhf*ckers
less than thirty days away from the time bomb
my second lp is a classic, wait!
before you rip off the plastic and read the credits
give props to jay*z for this mean ass record (thanks hov)
i got it from here hov
watch cocaine game cook crack like he grew up by a stove, i did (haha)
lil bad ass kid
reaching for the pot, i just wanted the rock (the roc)
not that roc crack rock, had the hood that hot, that’s how i got my nickname, compton was the backdrop
get down baby, comp town baby, call me the a train, i’m underground, maybe i let you rap n*ggas get a taste of the limelight, pause
give him two seconds to get his rhymes right
[the game talking]
go head muhf*cker
what’chu gon’ do?
banks
you gon’ flop on us, n*gga
can’t f*ck with me, sh*t

[chorus]
show me what you got lil f*ggot (go head take two more bars, n*gga)
show me what you got lil daddy (while i do [?] [?] while i get my sh*t together, n*gga)
show me what you got punk b*tches (f*ck my barber head, n*gga, line me up, n*gga)
show me what you got muhf*ckers (i’m fresh for death, n*gga)
i’ll let the hollow tips wave at you (come on, you ain’t done yet?)
wave at you (f*ckin’ hundred forty thousand, n*gga)
wave at you
wave at you (f*ggot)

[verse 2]
i told y’all banks was gon’ catch a brick, i left the group, you n*ggas been cursed ever since
i’m the one man crew crusher
run straight through busters, finish my album without a feature from the new usher
sing n*gga
go head do ya thing n*gga, i’m just waitin’ on shyne so i could bling, n*gga
gangland, black wall street, the game plan
is to be number one on the soundscan
i got seven days to sell a million records ’cause snoop and jay*z on my ass, now check it
i’m the youngest so i got the dumbest flow, i’m not the king? check the numbers, go (go)
i’m not so so
but i’ma bad boy, i will rock a fella and turn ’em into mozzarella, disturb the peace
then pull my swisher out
like i’m from swisha house, one more clip we out
i’ma grand hustla
slip n slide all over the beat, i guess i just rap*a*lot
talk about crack a lot
i’m get rich or die tryin’, curtis jackson hot, no i’m not
i’m colder than the massacre, g*unit was car, i was just a passenger
let me out, i’ll walk from here, i know my way back to fast cars and platinum plaques
and as far as me and dre, we gon’ work again
you gon’ see me in that aftermath shirt again
but not now, i’m too hot now
park the lambo on the billboard charts and let the top down
take my fitted out, let my bald head blow in the wind, you rap n*ggas are equivalent to stock rims
plain
you don’t ride like blood
i’m still 26 and so is the dubs (so!)
if you 38, n*gga give it up, check in a retirement home, play chess and live it up
now show ’em what you got, show ’em what you got, show ’em what you got
bad move
yep, he’s a p*wn
i’m the king, i don’t rap in subliminals, i just tell you what i mean
ras kass, whipped his ass fast, one punch knocked him out
pour belve on his face, then they drug his ass out
(out where?) somewhere in the parkin’ lot
i whip n*gga’s ass, i don’t just talk a lot
i’m zab judah when the jab movin’
winky wright in a dog fight, box n*ggas all night
you got your crew, i got mine, we can all fight
from now on n*gga everything is on sight
that mean you, you, you and you muhf*cker, tell me what you wanna do muhf*ckers
i ain’t got nuttin’ to lose muhf*cker
oh sh*t, my son, how i empty this motherf*ckin’ gun in your fitted
one shot from the heckler koch’ll leave ’em splitted
send ’em somewhere n0body could visit
unless they wanna die, just tell ’em to knock on my door and say goodbye (goodbye)
[outro]
bye haters
doctor’s advocate in stores, don’t f*ck with me

- the game lyrics

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