Skillz - Pressure Time lyrics
[Skillz - Pressure Time lyrics]
Ohh! Uh uh, yeah
Pressure, pressure time (uh huh)
Can I get the Congregation
(yeah) to put ya hands together
(Got the pressure on ya) Uh uh huh, uh uh huh
Skillz (uh huh) EC (uh huh)
Uh, huh, yeah, uh
Yo yo yo if you was blind to the fact
Then soon you'll see
Half of these rappers couldn't run through me
I'm from a place where outta
State niggas hide they rough
You believe in spirit's
I'll put you inside ya'self
Ya hatin, I'm changin up the course again
Now ya like, "Damn
How he get up in The Source again?"
Man these so-called rappers is
Gettin real sloppy labels callin me
Just wishin they could stop me
Meanwhile I'm spittin at a chick in the lobby
Two-tone Timbs
Lookin like chicken and broccoli
Rap cats don't got what they need to stop me
Kick yo' ass and then we
Cool like Apollo and Rocky
My vacancy figures, hold my ground
Whole state-a niggas
Love the way I hold 'em down
Over your track, I'll floor ya
Have ya producer callin you like
"I got another one for ya"
So what's this? - The reason
You ain't seein me
Now who are you? - Come on now
Ya favorite emcee
Relax ya'self and let ya conscious be free
And get down to the sounds of the DIC
Yo my name, a name all crews'll know
Everytime I spit, your label lose some dough
So if y'all move three, we movin fo'
Fuck rap
I bruise mics and that's right from the do'
See it's like, I'm bout these hit's strictly
(Say what?)
These haters out here don't hit me
They gon' get wit me
You don't know a nigga breathin
That's gonna out spit me
I got news for these lil' crews out to get me
I'm like easy pass before I drop
I might slow down, but I don't have to stop
You wanna see somethin hot
Well pass the rock
You don't have to be turbo for
Yo' ass to get popped
Keep the stash in the spot
While you hittin the leaf
Fuck makin it hot, I make it like fish grease
Timbs slick with the crease, get around that
And once I bounce on the beat
It ain't bouncin back
Aiyyo I'm Skillz dawg, the steel I be breakin
I don't give a fuck about
The shit y'all makin
My crew spit nice and still get mean
Pop the clip out the mic and spit sixteen
Cats talk their head off for
Like an hour and shit
Niggas be ridin ya sack and
Wanna borrow ya dick
Whoever y'all think nice, I heard of 'em all
Name ya top three rappers
I'll murder 'em all
Probably caught me at a light
Sittin low to the ground told ya girl
"Aww he act like he don't know me now"
Any city you can visit, I tore that down
Way above yours, that's where my flow at now
If I ever need loot, I long for figures
I'm in the parkin booth
Ghostwritin songs for niggas
Chicks call me a pigeon, but they ain't wrong
Cuz at any given time
They could get shitted on
Beats get spitted on, courtesy of Shaquan
I'ma keep talkin shit till
Y'all prove me wrong
Oh you still doin songs? It's all for nothin
All you gon' ever get from
Me is the fast-forward button
"Here's what it is" "iz is the real"
"Here's what it is" "iz is the real"
Pressure, pressure time (uh huh)
Can I get the Congregation
(yeah) to put ya hands together
(Got the pressure on ya) Uh uh huh, uh uh huh
Skillz (uh huh) EC (uh huh)
Uh, huh, yeah, uh
Yo yo yo if you was blind to the fact
Then soon you'll see
Half of these rappers couldn't run through me
I'm from a place where outta
State niggas hide they rough
You believe in spirit's
I'll put you inside ya'self
Ya hatin, I'm changin up the course again
Now ya like, "Damn
How he get up in The Source again?"
Man these so-called rappers is
Gettin real sloppy labels callin me
Just wishin they could stop me
Meanwhile I'm spittin at a chick in the lobby
Two-tone Timbs
Lookin like chicken and broccoli
Rap cats don't got what they need to stop me
Kick yo' ass and then we
Cool like Apollo and Rocky
My vacancy figures, hold my ground
Whole state-a niggas
Love the way I hold 'em down
Over your track, I'll floor ya
Have ya producer callin you like
"I got another one for ya"
So what's this? - The reason
You ain't seein me
Now who are you? - Come on now
Ya favorite emcee
Relax ya'self and let ya conscious be free
And get down to the sounds of the DIC
Yo my name, a name all crews'll know
Everytime I spit, your label lose some dough
So if y'all move three, we movin fo'
Fuck rap
I bruise mics and that's right from the do'
See it's like, I'm bout these hit's strictly
(Say what?)
These haters out here don't hit me
They gon' get wit me
You don't know a nigga breathin
That's gonna out spit me
I got news for these lil' crews out to get me
I'm like easy pass before I drop
I might slow down, but I don't have to stop
You wanna see somethin hot
Well pass the rock
You don't have to be turbo for
Yo' ass to get popped
Keep the stash in the spot
While you hittin the leaf
Fuck makin it hot, I make it like fish grease
Timbs slick with the crease, get around that
And once I bounce on the beat
It ain't bouncin back
Aiyyo I'm Skillz dawg, the steel I be breakin
I don't give a fuck about
The shit y'all makin
My crew spit nice and still get mean
Pop the clip out the mic and spit sixteen
Cats talk their head off for
Like an hour and shit
Niggas be ridin ya sack and
Wanna borrow ya dick
Whoever y'all think nice, I heard of 'em all
Name ya top three rappers
I'll murder 'em all
Probably caught me at a light
Sittin low to the ground told ya girl
"Aww he act like he don't know me now"
Any city you can visit, I tore that down
Way above yours, that's where my flow at now
If I ever need loot, I long for figures
I'm in the parkin booth
Ghostwritin songs for niggas
Chicks call me a pigeon, but they ain't wrong
Cuz at any given time
They could get shitted on
Beats get spitted on, courtesy of Shaquan
I'ma keep talkin shit till
Y'all prove me wrong
Oh you still doin songs? It's all for nothin
All you gon' ever get from
Me is the fast-forward button
"Here's what it is" "iz is the real"
"Here's what it is" "iz is the real"