[Verse 1: Esteem]
On the next mission, like I'm James T. Kirk
'Cause like Barrington Levy said, yo, "every posse must work"
Signed a contract with real incentives and perks
And fuck a Rush Management 'cause Rush Management jerks
Don't start with the Capital CPT
I'm from Brooklyn and Comp' ain't jack to me
Would have me think that they're in gangs and drug deals
Robbed and shot still, they ain't real
They fallacy be fallin' like a freeway
An earthquake struck in L.A. that Monday
These brothers kill me with the stories they tellin'
If y'all was some real gangsters hustlin', y'all'd keep sellin'
But you never had to buy no key bag
You makin' it so wack I can't wear my fuckin' rag
So popular, Greta, Emily, plus Hannah
Be waltzin' through Wall Street wearin' pink bandanas
For all of you new jackers, wiggas, crackers
My shit is gettin' harder than some benched outside linebacker
I bring it you, even up at Gleason's Gym
You beat your sparrin' partner? I ain't him
Lay back in the recliner
Capture ill reminders of my wicked witty one-liners
Got the knack you lack
And this ain't no K-Solo's, and I can't hold it back
[Chorus: Rakim sample]
"Hold it back" "Hold it back"
"Can't hold it back" "Hold it back"
"Hold it back" "Hold it back"
"Can't hold it back" "Hold it back"
"Hold it back" "Hold it back"
"Can't hold it back" "Hold it back"
[Verse 2: Esteem]
Beware of the comin 'of the lyrical invasion
The whole of the wack nation, I'ma fall like I'm a precipitation
The Esteem is out for no more friends, strictly enemies
Competition haven't got the balls nor the testies
Got the mind to withstand Central Booking in the Brownsville
And Bedstuy, and these Flatbush parts of Brooklyn
When I roll a spliff, the head, it must come fatty
Had to roll in our section, I never did sex party
Bright Like Donald Goines, from Brooklyn to say Des Moines
Joins in – ya flip like coins, yo suck these loins
Lose you like a Muggsy Bogues
I'm sellin' like a mock, they're you sellin' you poor stoges
My past Black knowledge
Is more sound than what you heard from many negro black colleges
Takin' a second to be candid
Don't matter if you're black or white, just look at what Michael Jackson did
That molestin' butthole bandit
Though I've got no time for butt-kissin'
Come right out dissin' you
Want pot? Come to my spot
You're comin' so much my spot's hot
You gettin' done with the gun with a red dot
Wack and there's somethin' goin' gold 'cause it's flippin'
Name is Shaq, aiyyo, therefore I can't hold it back
[Chorus: Rakim sample]
"Can't hold it back" "Hold it back"
"Hold it back" "Hold it back"
"Can't hold it back" "Hold it back"
"Hold it back" "Hold it back"
"Can't hold it back" "Hold it back"
"Hold it back" "Hold it back"
"Can't hold it back" "Hold it back"
"Hold it back" "Hold it back"
"Can't hold it back" "Hold it back"
"Hold it back" "Hold it back"
"Can't hold it back" "Hold it back"
"Hold it back" "Hold it back"
"Can't hold it back" "Hold it back"
"Hold it back" "Hold it back"
"Can't hold it back" "Hold it back"
"Hold it back" "Hold it back"
"Can't hold it back" "Hold it back"
"Hold it back" "Hold it back"
[Verse 3: Esteem]
Yo, as I slow shit down, you say ''Wait up"
You was told yo, we da fat ones, straight up
Get on any man that know that he resembles Snoopy
From the Peanuts in our dishes, that's like cheddar, that's Whoopi
House of Representativez, we all in the mix
Gots to hold down the 4-6 like it's Fort Dix
Like Ronnie Lie, I coulda hit ya with a late hits
Never deficits, Esteem is filled with great wits
French cookin' females with them big fat soft tits
The fuck you wanna do, yo?!
Yo, I ain't grow up in no hood and I ain't C.M.W.
I'll rip your studio plus my first show
And diss that bitch in the front row, at the Apollo
Michael's butt
Yo, now it matters if he's Black since they did a raid on his nuts
Real Hip-Hop's back on the map
Any other than that, gonna catch the Rick Flair smack
WAP! "Whoo!"
Jump your system, inside session
Blow up while you're steppin' now you sight my weapon
Nah, you ran, you fled, you heard what the man said
All who are back up in Farmers Morestead
Peeps try to front like they hardcore real
They ain't real just because they say they pulled out steel
They fuckin' rap style's nervous, they be doin' the mic a disservice
This mic's for Brian, plus Curtis
Yo, I get amped when I read about a slave's tomb
Can't really write, I try to come off when I hit the booms
I go "pom-pom!" I give dem pon legal!
Conquerin' rhymin', gonna bust you with the Desert Eagle
My third eye's the star, shinin' like the five senses
Vision is 20, yo, I don't need no flippin' lens
Jump your bone, tell all your frat boyfriends, girlfriend
I can't hold it back
I can't hold it back
[Outro]
Recognize East Flatbush, House of Repz up in this!
Stitch, Quicksta G, Foxx, Legit, Greg G, my man Payday
Spence! We up in this!
This is Esteem on the sign-off, what
Bring it, bring that shit, bring that shit
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