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Artist: Little Brother
Album:  The Minstrel Show *
Song:   Hold On (Telling Me) 
Typed by:

* - iTunes and Japanese Bonus Track

[Intro: Jermaine Jackson sample]
"Sittin on the edge of my mind all the time..."

[Rapper Big Pooh]
Uh, uh, uh, uh, uh...
Look ma, I wrote this with no hands
Naw I'm playin, check it, I wrote this with no pens
A little flow to get the doors open
with your neck noddin back like you drunk off Shopin
A lotta niggaz quietly hopin
I wouldn't return with the scope on 'em scoping
Well look niggaz, I'm here, start chokin
It's goin to be a lot of things said that's provoking
Lil' dudes to get amped
Well you can get crushed like an ant, turned out like a lamp
And take this muh'fuckin lick with a stamp
Do yourself a favor - don't fuck with the champs!
Cause in any division
Whether that's long or short or in any decision
I'ma be the last standing, hand raised lookin at the ref
You on the mat ten count, demanding
for a rematch, but I cut out the beef
and guarantee you that it won't be a relapse
Perhaps in the crowd, you can post up
Take a good look, nigga, get a close up
We froze up scrub niggaz that rose up
Your run is over, hang the fuckin microphone up
I'm through wit it, you can say I did it
I copped a squat on you lames then took a shid-dit (whoo!)

[Chorus 2X: Rapper Big Pooh] (Phonte)
People tellin me, they tellin me hold on and
I'm on the right track and nothing can go wrong but
Each day it's gettin harder to hold on
(Man I ain't hatin, I been waitin for so long)

The realest to do it, the illest maneuvers the plan
To finish you losers that's killing the music, the man
That's known in every section, they say the deadliest weapon
is Tay chillin with a mic in the palm of his hand
He savin rap from its hideous state
He never, gets rattled in the city of snakes
Where niggaz say he don't rhyme as much, I got the +Midas+ touch
You +Meineke+ niggaz should give it a break/brake
Cause I can relate to late nights rollin in a dented Taurus
With my man bein exposed to the city's horrors
Goin to the open mic nights where the audience, they did ignore us
But a lot of ill shit it had taught us
Like how to adapt to different people, different auras
And bring messages that our forefathers brought us
So even though I'm rappin now and got thangs
I don't rock chains, our ancestors did it for us
I'm on some brand new and improved, Phonte, 9th and Pooh on the move
I mean who woulda knew, what our +Nighttime Maneuvers+ would do?
A whole state of emcees inspired by the words we scribe
But sometimes I get quiet and niggaz think I'm depressed but
I'm just analyzing, I mean I'm just strategizing
I mean I'm fantasizing about all this money and stress
Because the taste of success is so tantalizing
And sometimes I feel like a dope fiend without it
Wakin up in cold sweats havin dreams about it
Tryna tell my whole team about it,
"Y'all niggaz gotta walk it, my nigga, don't talk it, just be about it"
And this is what I'm faced with all the time
Not tryna be Rembrandt, just wanna draw the line
between illusion and reality, and I'ma take what's mine
But I keep hearin voices inside that be tellin me, tellin me...

"Uh, you ain't gon' make it, man" - What?!
This my motherfuckin life, nigga
Uh, c'mon


[Outro: Phonte]
Check it, and yeah we gettin it on, we gotta gettin it on
Yeah, we gettin it on, check it out now
You know we gettin it on, we steady gettin it on
Big Dho is gettin it on, we keep it on now
Big Pooh is gettin it on, 9th Wonder gettin it on
Khrysis gettin it on, we do it on now
We gettin it on, you know we gettin it on
You know we... aw damn~! I hit the mic
Shit... aight