40 Acres and My Props

Song 40 Acres and My Props
Artist Show & A.G.
Album Runaway Slave

Lyrics

作曲 : A.G., AG, Showbiz
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
Shit 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)

Pinyin

zuò qǔ : A. G., AG, Showbiz
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
IZ, my partner' s
A. G. Chill with
Greg NIC
E or my brother
DRES 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 hiphop,
I won' t stop yo Repeat 4x Showbiz
The say BM
W' s a Black
Man' s Wish
I wish for an
SP1200 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
Shit 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 hiphop,
I won' t stop yo Repeat 4x