Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Pressure Time, artist - Skillz.
Date of issue: 04.04.2002
Song language: English
Pressure Time |
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 spirits, 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 D.I.C |
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 hits 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» |