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"Show Something" lyrics by FES TAYLOR
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"Show Something"
[feat. T-Bird & Inspectah Deck]


[Fes Taylor:]
I'm paper chasing, I see the vapors in they faces
King of Hearts playing with aces
You a Joker, Looking like a smoker
Saying you a hustler, Looking like a customer
Don't discuss with us, Conversation on the phone
Slow grind, Kind of patient on our own
Nobody tell if my shit ain't known
So I doubt they ever catch me with the work and the chrome
Try schooling little homie, Don't put dirt in your home
Before you have them alphabet boys searching your home
Graduation from the game, Lacerations on my brain
I can't explain, Think we're going insane
You want change you need a couple dollars
So I think change add up to a couple dollars
So I hustle harder, I but the revolver
Plus I leave your face like a broken carver or punches from Tara

[Chorus: Fes Taylor (T-Bird)]
If it ain't about paper then it ain't about nothing
Niggas say they getting bread, Show something, Show something
If it ain't about paper then it ain't about nothing
Niggas say they getting bread, Show something, Show something
(When you see me on the ave. I can see you riding bad
I'm doing good they doing bad, Cause they ain't getting no bread)

[T-Bird:]
Since time is money my money is time
But some niggas ain't built for the grind
Everything the glitters ain't gold
But you know you can't tell a nigga nothing
So I guess he gotta learn on his own
I'm all about getting paper but I watch them haters
If you ain't part of my team then you gets no favor
And beggars can't be choosers and winners cannot be losers
And hating niggas'll try to do ya so I shoot with the shooters
Get em, Get em, We hot, Taylor ran up in the spot
I got his back with a glock, Ya'll ain't really wanna pop
This year's a new year, My niggas getting money even on leap year
I'm telling ya'll niggas ya'll can't eat here

[Chorus]

[Inspectah Deck:]
I say money, Cash, Cream, Dinero
Get it how you get it my figures are six zeros
Strip to strip, I get my work in, Brick for brick
Big timing nigga stick your trick
Sick fruity colored kicks, Movie star chicks
Clique like a dominatrix with chains and whips
Yeah-Yeah, If it's money I'm there
And I ain't worried about a thing
I'm like, Let me find something to wear
I ain't needy but I'm greedy, I was told to take it
This the real me, You don't fake it til you make it
I a hands on nigga, Let me touch something
Steady hood hustling with the semi tucked stunting
Cash rules everything, Don't stop get it get it
Long as you know the repercussions come with it
I'm in it to the limit, Staking for them later days
Living like Usain Bolt on a paper chase

[Chorus]

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