The Pressure

[Intro: Phonte]

Uh, uh, uh

Uh, uh, let it, bounce

Uh, uh, uh

Uh, uh, let it, bounce

You know sometimes a nigga get tired of always

Talkin' about shit he ain't got, milkin' on shit (let it, bounce)

You just gotta make use of what you got here, man

We right here doin' it (let it bounce)

[Verse 1: Phonte]

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

Big plaques on the wall, everything that gleam

Lamp shades, backstage, til this nigga ask me

"'Te, would you work ten years for your dream?"

Seven years later, now I see just what he mean

'Cause this is real life and I live it kinda regular

Got a house, got a car, got a wife, 'plauding ya'll

Big Dho, manager, H.O.J's the team

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

Why this rap shit rip my heart 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 Häagen-Dazs, 'cause the rap audience

Like the way I handle bars, Like it was the Tour de France

Oh so easily, just like Sheila E

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

We ain't got no time for your bullshit schemes

Cuz once Tay begins (-gins), they say the pen

Is much bigger than a sword and I'm like a lyrical Lance-A-Lot

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

[Chorus: Rapper Big Pooh & Phonte]

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

Uh, got ya'll feelin' the pressure

Phonte feelin' the pressure, feelin the pressure

Got ya'll feelin' the pressure

Big Pooh feelin' the pressure, so feel the pressure

[Verse 2: Rapper Big Pooh]

Niggas 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

Ain't seen 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

Oh, forgot to mention Hall of Justus is the click!

[Chorus: Rapper Big Pooh & Phonte]

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

Uh, got ya'll feelin' the pressure

Phonte feelin' the pressure, feelin the pressure

Got ya'll feelin' the pressure

Big Pooh feelin' the pressure, so feel the pressure

[Outro: Rapper Big Pooh (Phonte)]

Can you feel that? Haha

That tight grip around your neck, nigga (Let it, bounce)

That's pressure nigga

Shit, that's pressure nigga

(Let it, bounce)