Hold His Own Lyrics - Cormega

(Cormega) 

Yo, yo 

What, what 

Wanna bounce? 

Come on, come on 

What, what 

Bounce, bounce 

Check it out y'all 

Yo, you see the Benz I'm in, with BBS rims 

Playing Lil' Kim's part off The Benjamins 

I ain't a player, I just wear Tims 

No need for gators, my feet can't swim 

I'm in Reno, Nevada, sippin' a pena colada 

How many niggas can see Montanna? 

This movie's killin' and budgin' 

Women love me in polo jeans and rugbys 

You can hate it or love it, imiatate it or dub it 

Compared to us, niggas ain't nuttin' 

It's funny how niggas get paid for frontin' 

Glorifying crimes, and they ain't done 'em 

My rhymes'll split 'em like pimpin', Dom P sippin' 

I'm not a baller, haven't even lived it 

Women callin', since my days in the crib crawlin' 

I plan to live enormous 

I live nike dunks, icey chunks 

A fly wifey I can trust 

Not that she gon' wanna hesit me for re-up 

I might be, Iron Mike if you try to entice me 

I say this politely, tell it to a friend 

Hard from the start, get money to the end 

What up with Cormega? Did you see him? 

Leanin' in the BM with the rim's gleamin' 

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(Chorus - Carl Thomas) 

Mega gonna hold his own 

He always knew he could do it alone 

And when he rhymes 

Everybody's gonna know 

(Cormega) 

Yo, I write rhymes for the flyest whips, finest chicks 

And any rappin' nigga that thinks he's as nice as this 

See me chillin' in clubs with women and thugs 

Whoever wanna test this, we fill 'em with slugs 

My jewlery gliestenin', rhymes usually sickenin' 

Game like Fab 5 at Michigan, you listening? 

Pimps, I bust 'em, niggas, don't trust 'em 

Snitches, don't want 'em in my shit 

We in a tunnel, buyin' mo' by the bundle 

You know when we come through, get it right 

But dead? right, techs spit nice 

I know where you read my man was jessying your wife 

I suggest you chill unless you ill enough to test the skill 

That I possess niggas, for real 

I'm the last of the mohecans, rhyme ill flow lethal 

Due to magazines, there's no equal 

No sequel to my flow evil, deletin' your people 

We through seein' time, you're see-through 

Nas off the meter, rhyme for the Beamers 

Roll wit' overacheivers, my people, my people from madenas 

Where you at dime-peices, fly features? 

Lookin' so right my man is dying to meet ya 

I know your baby dad just buying you sneakers 

But I'm a keep it real, I ain't cheap 

Check it out 

Photos 

(Chorus) 

(Cormega) 

Yo, to the haters, lovers, thug baby mommys 

Walk around me tryin' to play stuck-up 

See me in a ride and wanna say "what's up?" 

I put my foot and the gas and tell they ass "tough luck" 

I don't start beef, I finish it 

My enemies hearts diminishin' 

Before a rapper had dough, you didn't 

You a pathetic nigga, first it was Biggie and Pac 

Now you jealous of Jigga 

You like a breast implant, fake on the inside 

You nice, let's battle for dough Mr. Big-Time 

On Hot 97, or live at Envy's 

I can ass-bend you and still leave with 10 g's 

Too real for you, what you dream I live and breath 

Whoever wanna intervene, come on, get your team 

And I'm a show you who the illest 

'Cause everybody know who the realest 

Now feel it 

(Chorus)