Diggin' In The Crates

And you don't stop, ah keep on (Repeat 8x)

Yo praise the Lord for Showbiz

My partner with the beats with the Nikes on his feet

Buying old records is a habit

I get more run than a Volkswagen Rabbit

You know I gotta have it

I got more props than the cop called McGarrett

Who played on Hawaii Five-O

When I formed a production company with Show

And Jay's Studio is the lab (the lab!)

But the session is closed cause I know you got a big nose

Trying to sniff out the name

You lack originality, and that's a damn shame

Don't front, I know I got you open

Like a pack of tokens, yo I pulled your coat and

I'm not the one to be gamed on

I didn't know it was your girl we ran the train on

But no hard feelings, your girl was appealing

Did my share of dealing, sexual healing

You didn't know she was a groupie

But I'm a put you up on a scoop, B

Used to live in Forrest, my daughter lives on Morris

Used to play softball with my man Horace

I kick flavor like my man Sonny Chiba

Aries is my sign, I'm compatible with Libra

I like to program beats

Diamond D is out, I wanna say peace

Showbiz there's deals to make

So let's get busy and dig in the crates

Yo, thank ***** for Diamond D

No afro instead he keeps dreads in his head

My partner from the past, from 163rd

Back when I was a hoodlum beating on nerds

It started way back (way back when?)

About 12 years ago, I was 9, he was 10

Before smoking weed or hanging out or playing hooky

We used to breakdance in the jams, "Electric Boogie"

Girls watched jocking, my nickname was Rock and

Crowds I was shocking, freaks I was clocking

Step up and see Showbiz performing

My beats hit hard like big George Foreman

So MC's and DJ's who thought they was nice and

Get upset like Buster did to Tyson

That wasn't the plan and he's still my man

Since he beat up Mitch Green outside Dapper Dan

Wait a minute that's a different su**ect

Talk about the Moet and the papers that's in effect

Back to the Show, the Show B-I-Z

Down with D.I.T.C., A.G. is my MC

Relying on the Giant, the Giant I'm relying

Never crying for the crack because I'm not a crack client

Girls stick like Crazy Glue, they think they're getting dough

But I treat hoes like drugs, I just say no

I lamp in the residence I'm keeping dead presidents

In fact, I like my pockets fat not flat

A rapper not a singer, so ****** don't bring a

Problem to me, so go ahead you humdinger

Show's about to blow in '91 so I'm straight

Down with the crew called Diggin' in the Crates

So get back, get your sticks and get your bats

Get your licks and I'm a still get fat

Try to diss and get the backhand

I'm dressed in black, a black hat for a black man

The Giant is better and clever

Go ahead and sleep, and you'll rest forever and ever

I'm like a bomb, sometimes I'm calm

No telling what can happen once the mic is in my right palm

Me and Showbiz too deep, but don't sleep

Go ahead and retreat or face agony of defeat

A.G. is in command

You remember the black hat and the bottom of my Timberlands

Save it, if you think you pose a threat

Just chill and watch how many hoes I get

Now you sweat the props I got

(Kick a rhyme) A rhyme? Sure, why not?

Always get fat to a hype track

So Finesse (What's up?) sike, give me that mic back

The crowd I'll capture, microphone master

Finger licking and kicking lyrics from here to Africa

I'm the bold kind, my rhyme's a goldmine

Let it off, set it off, just for old times

Think you're ready for this, you wanna battle

Your music is riddle raddle, your rhymes are scribble scrabble

The Giant is greater so I'm great

Down with the group called Diggin' in the Crates

Now when it comes to lyrics, mics I pulverise

It's Lord Finesse, time to go for mine

So stand back, let the men play

I put rhymes in shape just like Bengay

I'm great and honorable, suckers I bomb a few

I run more games than a carnival

I'm a get mine, as soon as you say start

Sweat hoods and funky rhymes is my trademark

I'm a get fame, not from her or his name

Cause yo (What's up?) I'm funkier than a **** stain

Mics I smoke, rhymes I hurl

My hobby is collecting fly-looking girls

Strictly for the ladies, call me Lord Finesse

And I'm all about money and sex

Finesse is the name to say, and I came to play

We could have fun, but put the whips and chains away

Sex and money is what makes me a happy man

And I sport more styles than Jackie Chan

I keep rising, I'm not the type to sink low

Me take a loss on the mic, I don't think so

Lord Finesse is out to make papes

Down with the crew called Diggin' in the Crates