Lyrics:

(Skillz)
Oh! Uh-uh, yeah
Pressure, pressure time (uh-huh)
Can I get the Congregation (yeah) to put ya hands together
(Got the pressure on ya) Uh... uh-huh, uh... uh-huh
Skillz (uh-huh) E.C. (uh-huh)
Uh-huh, yeah, uh

Yo yo yo
If you was blind to the fact, then soon you'll see
Half of these rappers couldn't run through me
I'm from a place where outta state niggaz hide they rough
You believe in spirits, I'll put you inside ya'self
Ya hatin', I'm changin up the course again
Now ya like, 'Damn, how he get up in The Source again?'
Man these so-called rappers is gettin' real sloppy
Labels callin me, just wishin they could stop me
Meanwhile I'm spittin' at a chick in the lobby
Two-tone Timbs, lookin' like chicken and broccoli
Rap cats don't got what they need to stop me
Kick yo' ass and then we cool like Apollo and Rocky
My vacancy figures, hold my ground
Whole state-a niggaz, love the way I hold 'em down
Over your track, I'll floor ya
Have ya producer callin you like, 'I got another one for ya'

So what's this? - The reason you ain't seein me
Now who are you? - Come on now, ya favorite emcee
Relax ya'self and let ya conscious be free,
And get down to the sounds of the D.I.C.

Yo my name, a name all crews'll know
Everytime I spit, your label lose some dough
So if y'all move three, we movin fo'
Fuck rap, I bruise mics and that's right from the do'
See it's like, I'm bout these hits strictly (Say what?)
These haters out here don't hit me, they gon' get wit me
You don't know a nigga breathin that's gonna out spit me
I got news for these lil' crews out to get me
I'm like easy pass before I drop
I might slow down, but I don't have to stop
You wanna see somethin' hot, well pass the rock
You don't have to be turbo for yo' ass to get popped
Keep the stash in the spot while you hittin the leaf
Fuck makin' it hot, I make it like fish grease
Timbs slick with the crease, get around that
And once I bounce on the beat, it ain't bouncin' back

Aiyyo I'm Skillz dawg, the steel I be breakin
I don't give a fuck about the shit y'all makin'
My crew spit nice and still get mean
Pop the clip out the mic and spit sixteen
Cats talk their head off for like an hour and shit
Niggaz be ridin' ya sack and wanna borrow ya dick
Whoever y'all think nice, I heard of 'em all
Name ya top three rappers, I'll murder 'em all
Probably caught me at a light sittin' low to the ground
Told ya girl, 'Aww he act like he don't know me now'
Any city you can visit, I tore that down
Way above yours, that's where my flow at now
If I ever need loot, I long for figures
I'm in the parkin booth, ghostwritin songs for niggaz
Chicks call me a pigeon, but they ain't wrong
'Cause at any given time, they could get shitted on
Beats get spitted on, courtesy of Shaquan
I'ma keep talkin' shit till y'all prove me wrong
Oh you still doin' songs? It's all for nothin'
All you gon' ever get from me is the fast-forward button

(Scratched samples)
'Here's what it is..'
'..Iz is the real'
'Here's what it is..'
'..Iz is the real'

(Music to fade)