40 Acres and My Props

Showbiz got props, tell me who got the props

A.G. got props, tell me who got the props

Give me my props for '92

It's me and

Showbiz, and this is what we gonna do

Give you some now, save some for later

Here's a portion, yo

Show, kick the flavor [Showbiz]

Record labels try and juice me (for what?) for my papers

The offer me a mule (and what else?) and 40 acres

I'm dissing snakes now, there's no time to catch the vapors

I'm not a pup (for what?) a

Muppet caper

And all the ghetto groupies get free with the quickness

And Show concentrates and only thinks about business

I hate a sellout cause he puts me in a rage

I play KRS and throw that ass off the stage

So give me my props cause

I always stay clever

And ain't nothing changd but the weather

Get your act together, cause

I got mines together

Don't front on the brother with the

Pelle Pelle leather

I'm Show B-

I-Z, my partner's

A.G. Chill with

Greg N-I-C-

E or my brother

D-R-E-S And what's up to

Lord Finesse

And I'd like to give shouts to my peeps

Shorty and

Wes People say

I'm soup, crazy cash

I recoup Nowadays

I just troop in my green

Legend coupe [A.G.]

Record companies try to juice me for my papers

They offer me a mule and about 40 acres

They try ot gain from my royalties

Push me towards the dotted line but you know

I didn't sign

Labels know straight up when we meet

Interfere with my career and it's back to the streets

Bang bang or the pow pow

I settle the beef the best way

I know how

Release the savage beast if

I'm not taking care

Rap is my career and it's my only way outta here

Every chance

I do damage

And I manage to use all the anger to my advantage

All that is cool, but my brain is the tool

Gimme my props so we all can rule

Don't show off my skills,

I just sprinkle em

And you're sleeping on my props, wake up before you wrinkle them

Gimme my props yo, more than a cop yo

Til I master hip-hop,

I won't stop yo (Repeat 4x) [Showbiz]

The say BM

W's a Black

Man's Wish

I wish for an

SP-1200 and some discs

Negativity the least, my material's is cease

Saying peace to the brothers in the belly of the beast

People saying "Why Show wanna rhyme?"

I didn't wanna get back and do

Fed time I wanna live right and exact,

I don't wanna be the fat cat

Off the crack and have the

Feds down my back

If the money's stacked, take a step back, black

Or you'll be wearing four four numbers like a quarterback

I was raised one deep by mom dukes and no dad

And now I grab a #2 pencil and a pad

Or Erasermate if

I make mistakes

I erase And me a

Diamond go diggin' in the crates (Where's my 40 acres?)

Not the projects of course

I asked for a mule,

I got an iron horse

**** goes on as the song plays

Can a devil fool a

Muslim? Nah, not nowadays [A.G.]

On your mark, get set, pass the 40, let's jet

A fat rhyme is what you want, a fat rhyme is what you'll get

It's thorough, from begining to end

The beat is fat, what can

I say? Show you did it again

I got the hat on my head,

Pepe's on my behind

Fans on my back, and money on my mind

I don't sweat the stress, take the bitter with the sweet

Did I let you know

I have the

Tims on my feet?

You know my stats when

I came around

Saying "Damn he's living fat" when

I haven't even gained a pound

Friends til the end, never will

I diss ya

My people's

R.I.P., you know

I'm gonna miss ya 40 acres and my props, the name of the song

A.G. is saying peace and

I'm gone Gimme my props yo, more than a cop yo

Til I master hip-hop,

I won't stop yo (Repeat 4x)