The Pressure Little Brother

[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