D Flow - Got the Flava lyrics

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D Flow - Got the Flava lyrics

[Hook] Show & A.G. got the flavas (the flavas) Rolling with the dwellas and the neighbors (the neighbors) (Repeat x2) [D. Flow] Hey yo no question I'm the best in this rap business No doubt I'm strapped, get back or get clapped ridiculous son I'm flippin this one (don't be dumb) You better run or end up like my last victim sh** that's real I already been through Scared from the threats I sent you (it's all in the mental) Jackin n***as like I'm in the Central Cuttin through that a** like a Ginsu as I commense to Get big with my nigs, A.G. & Showbiz Now your idol was doin vital damage to your ribs Word straight up and down, crab MCs get crushed I'll leave your style cramped, my crew can't be touched So when you hear the bomb you know it's D. Flow son No one can f** around, yeah that's right (no one) [Wali World] Hey yo the honies on the dilz cause I play ball good (it's all good) I'm still representin the hood Big shouts to Uncle Pete, you're my number one neighbor No doubt I'm puffin later with my n***a Gary Aida Peace to Roc Raida and all the goodfellas People gettin jealous, well it's the brothers (the brothers) On some other sh** can't forget Shabazz Representin not to mention that I'm gettin cash Get with that or get with this because I'm kickin this With the styles I'm runnin through n***as like Emmitt Smith [Party Arty] Touchdown, I buck down MCs that step up 10 G's if you wanna MC wrecked up The Ghetto Dwella's in your hood, hoodie down Stomps from the Bronx, the boogie man from the Boogie Down Momma never told me there would be days like this That I'd be rippin tracks, gettin paid with my nigs On tour, roar with that hardcore stuff n***as call bluffs (I give em no chance) I make it more rough (And even slow dance) on n***as faces, rugged, f** it Them n***as got to love it cause we made this I'm gettin papers with my peeps As Party Arty keeps Bacardi so MCs meet the shotty [A.G.] Check the method but don't sweat the technique Even made the baddest dime b**hes get weak when the vets speak (Hopin) That your head meets my bed sheets (Now you're open) Like the Red Sea cause I'm potent Don't fit? Don't force it, Flow got that 4-fifth Who do with that voodoo, my doll it's that cordless All this and that and then some Get paid to put raps on tracks, I guess that's my income The beat chills so they be comin back for refills (My man shows his street sk**s) From here to the Peeksk**s k** the rumors, givin MCs brain tumors Time to step off the set, gotta jet like Puma [Hook] [Method Man] What the blood clot, son lick a shot, show your love in the area Forget me not, ma** hysteria My style revolves around blunts, the Methical The one and only piece original, never phony One love to my muthaf**er A.G A true giant in the industry, hold your shoes up