Showtime - Illa J, Atamone

Uh, yeah, it’s showtime

It’s showtime, yeah

Feel the magic and soul of the YB’s, yeah

It’s showtime

It’s showtime, it’s showtime

It’s showtime, it’s showtime, it’s showtime

It’s showtime, it’s showtime

Uh, check it…

You can’t miss YB number 2 in that yellow and blue

Your eyes be on my shoes when I drive by you

You can’t see me but I see you

Not to any degree should you fear I-L-L-A-space-J is here

I’m sensational, extra exceptional, extraterrestrialistic

I’m at the top of the key slashing through your paint

Like you broke my girl’s car window

Don’t be surprised when you see how far we go

Whoop your ass on the road, shoulda made your free throws

My fault, is the squeaking of my shoes too loud?

Well, it’s part of the sport

I gotta make noise when I cruise through crowds

Uh, and quit bitchin' 'bout the calls

That’s why you choking, choking on my balls

Ah-ha, you let me psyche you out

Kiss kiss, bang bang, now I knocked you out

It’s showtime

It’s showtime, it’s showtime

It’s showtime, it’s showtime, it’s showtime

It’s showtime, it’s showtime

Yo, uh…

Yo, my style is sangria, get done over

I take the needle and scratch your ass, spin, fast break

No look pass, skyhook, no cash in the bank

Only pounds 'cause I shoot all net

Yeah, we coming back, put down your bet

Uh, yeah, you gon' regret

And pay me respect, I can detect

Many biters, y’all ain’t players, y’all ain’t writers

Put down the pen

You can’t even get a number without your friends

And without the Benz, on the other hand

I could score at will so force me left and get left

While I lift in the air, and release

Uh, and all sound is deceased

It’s John, son, and Big Game James, yeah

It’s showtime

It’s showtime, it’s showtime

It’s showtime, it’s showtime, it’s showtime

It’s showtime, it’s showtime