Lyrics Hold Ya Head - Showbiz, A.G.

Hold Ya Head

Once again back again with my friends
Diamond’s beats are fat just like a Benz
Andre the Giant is great, but I should also mention
Lord Finesse, he’s the Funky Technician
I’m on my way to the studio, it’s the only way that I know
How to play down low
Punching keys like Rocky Balboa
Saying rest in peace to Tshaka Figeoroa
Some got to grow up before they blow up
And did you ever know a young brother who had shit sewed up?
Rented some BM’s some Volvos, some Benz
So much jewels I had to pass shit down to my friends
But when down and out and pockets are low
See how fast friends go when there’s no cash flow
So I head for the top, times are hard
Pushing moms, no pops, I had to get my own props
I can wild out, but instead
I just keep to myself and Showbiz just hold his head
Wally World (Just hold ya head)
True Dog (Just hold ya head)
Kerry Dope (Just hold ya head)
My cousin Chris (Just hold ya head)
Hold ya head, that’s what Showbiz said
In memory of Koto Harris, the eulogy read:
Another friend was laid to rest
This world is just chaos, confusion, and a big mess
But we got to keep striving
To leave town, never stay down but keep rising
]From the ghetto, not always ghetto minded
Some is striving, the finish line they never find it
All of the sudden they life stops
]From black on black to harassed by white cops
Some went into jail to do time
They take away your time, your freedom, and your state of mind
So pay attention, these are facts, black
Take it from the Giant cause I’ve been there and back
This is advice so take it
Stay strong on your path, and you will make it
I’m not trying to tell you what to do
Just hold ya head, and everything else will follow through
To Tyrell (Just hold ya head)
To Cool K (Just hold ya head)
My brother Kel (Just hold ya head)
Big Todd (Just hold ya head)
Green light, that’s go or should I stop?
I’m not trying to get bagged by any narc cops
What are you, on dope, or is this a joke?
Is this the day you pull me over, searching for cracks and coke?
What’s the problem, you know I’m sober
If you drove a fucking Nova you wouldn’t have to pull over
You’re making me late, my papers is straight
Never hesitate to run a check and then let me skate
Take my business card, it’s in my left hand
You got the right motherfucker but the wrong goddamn plan
So pass me by, or you wonder why
Niggas pull out their Glock and point it right between your eye
But I got my shit together, I never flip with the weather
And I always think clever
I think positive and legit
I gotta give big shouts to my peeps Kendu and Infinite
Brothers stare into my face like I’m a sucker
It’s too easy to kill another young motherfucker
So I ignore it, I turn the other cheek
Yo Show, you ain’t got any time for these niggas, these boys is weak
Some punks want to spit razors shit for rocks
Packing a Glock, and I don’t shoot blanks
Young boys that thought they was ready, step to this
They made wrong moves because that ass got rocksteady
Down the line, far from kind
Whip in behind, and still packing nothing but a nine
Back on the block, or out on the streets
I recoup a Dre’s scheme real neat to make ends meet
But I can’t live trife, shot stabbed with a knife
I want kids and a wife, not 25 to life
Negative thoughts are dead
Showbiz is the man that always hold his motherfucking head
To my man Tone (Just hold ya head)
To Mad Mark (Just hold ya head)
To Carmello (Just hold ya head)
To Big Jordan (Just hold ya head)