Lyrics Little Brother

Little Brother

The Pressure

Unh, unh, unh, unh, let it, bounce

Unh, unh, unh, unh, let it, bounce

You know sometimes a nigga get tired of always

Talkin' about shit he ain't got, milkin on shit

Sometims you gotta make use of what you got here, man

We right here, doin it, let it bounce

Use to wish on a star that I'd have big plaques

Big awards right here on the wall, everything that gleam

Lamp shades, back stage, for this nigga askin'

Tay, would you work ten years for your dream

Seven years later, now I see just what he mean

Cuz this is real life and I'm livin' kinda regular

Got a house, got a car, got a wife, Big Dho, manager, HOJ's the team

You can say I'm satisfied, though I often analyze

Why this rap shit rip my hear at the seams

This ain't time to fantasize, I'm not a whippersnapper

I'm trying to get these crackers for all of they cream

Like Dairy Queen or Hдagen-Dazs

Cuz the rap audience like the way I handle bars

Like it before they thoughts, Oh so easily, just like Sheila E

When she was singing Hollyrock, Oh, check out the scene

We ain't got time for your bullshit schemes

Cuz once Tay begins, they say depends

Much bigger than a sword and I'm a lyrical Lance-A-Lot

I ain't gotta dance a lot, check the way I lean

Yes, yes, now! You now rockin' wit' the muh'fuckin' best now

Think of fuckin' wit the team, I suggest not

Real shit, you can feel it in your chest, now

Got y'all feelin' the pressure

(Got ya'll feelin' the pressure

Phonte feelin' the pressure, feelin the pressue

Got ya'll feelin' the pressure

Big Pooh feelin' the pressure so feel the pressure)

Niggaz block, women jock on your cock, round the clock

Get it, get it, don't stop, catch you on the rise

Made a lil' dough in this rap game slow

See my video, so they swear I'm movin' pies

Old whip, new kicks, few flicks, same chick

New picks, same bitch, no I'm not a star

Let my hair grow, put my mic game down

This the third time round, I'm shootin for a par

We came this far, and no one assisted

Co-signed, or enlisted, like we ain't gifted

We be gettin' lifted of the beats and drank liquor

We call women hoes, that's if the name fits

Put me in the box, I ain't wrappin' up shit

Made music my career, some of y'all just spit

Homie, just sit back, pay attention

Forgot to mention Hall of Justus is the click

Can you feel that?

That tight grip around your neck, nigga

That's pressure nigga

That's pressure nigga

(Let it, bounce)

Yeah, nigga, Mick I think that's enough

Yeah, that's your new name, "Nigga Mick"

(Hehe, nigger) NIGGER YOU'RE MY NIGGER!