Shine (Acapella)

E-Dot ft. Mr. Complex - “Shine”
[Produced by Darp Malone]

[Intro: Mr. Complex and (E-Dot)]
What’s up? What? There comes a time in a man’s life when he’s gonna do wrong. You got to show and prove, make that move. Everybody’s got their come-up. This is how we just run up and get one up. What, what now? Worldwide, uh. What, what now? (For all those who didn’t believe, you nah’mean?). I’m saying: bring it, bring it, bring it

[Verse 1: E-Dot]
I used to get
Mad rotation. DJ won’t show
Poetical kin ain’t trying to hear the nigga flow
It’s the sad truth, but shit rises to the top
That is just how it go. My job: hold it down
And keep it tight like my flow and catch you, elevate
Be seen—kind of like the machine with tattoo
I don’t want ‘em, but the motherfucking fact is that I have to
Writers only get this point across and that’s just wack. Where I’m from
Place called Edmonwho? Way out
In the boonies, place where there ain’t dollar bills—we carry
Loonies and it’s the same old place, it’s the
Same shhh... nigga, same old faces
So I stay wasted, dawg. I got to show love
West and 1-8-(Ooh), it's in my blood
For real. Y’all know the deal and how that go
Edmonwho? brought you E-Dot oh oh oh oh

[Hook: Mr. Complex]
Shine. So, baby, let’s shine. My time
To shine. So, baby, let’s shine. It’s my time
To shine. So, baby, let’s shine. It’s my time
To shine. So, baby, let’s shine. My time

[Verse 2: E-Dot]
I’m from a place that’s cold as hell. Haven
For haters. First was urban, now ex
Makes papers. Women have seeds with so-called
Money-makers. Bulls with the shit, but, yo, now it’s
The lame kids’ world. Hip hop ain’t respected
Radio ain’t trying to hear my record
While anybody gets first, dawg, but y’all second
So when you go, I’ll pin this industry, die wrecking
From the place where the soundman don’t give a damn
Can’t trust a person ‘cause they rat to the man
Did a cross-country tour—three emcees in a van
Clear across this land in a van. Hundred dollars to
Our name. Hate nobody, complain because we all love
This game. ‘Member Bobby Troubles? Well, I’m sure he felt
The same. ‘Member Cashino? I miss that nigga
Frame. For real, dawg, life ain’t a game

[Hook: Mr. Complex]
Shine. So, baby, let’s shine. My time
To shine. So, baby, let’s shine. It’s my time
To shine. So, baby, let’s shine. It’s my time
To shine. So, baby, let’s shine. My time

[Verse 3: E-Dot]
I’m from a place cold as fuck. Ballers rolling
Trucks and “Ace!”—it’s part of the vocab where
B-boys catch toe tags ‘cause they’re a dying commodity
Hip hop on airwaves is an oddity. Roll on
A dirt bike current odyssey. Nevertheless, I’m
Stupid like who? I’m dope like Fresh
Spontaneously combu-bu-bust like Daves Koresh when I
Spit fire. Nigga, bring beef, I’ll bring two hundred
Pounds and a spear tied around my waste. And I’ma
Rhyme ‘til I’m pale like Mýa in the face
Classic Emcees-Dot-Com up in the place
Darp Malone production, nigga. Tapes (Tapes, tapes)

[Hook: Mr. Complex]
Shine. So, baby, let’s shine. My time
To shine. So, baby, let’s shine. It’s my time
To shine. So, baby, let’s shine. It’s my time
To shine. So, baby, let’s shine. My time
To shine. So, baby, let’s shine. It’s my time
To shine. So, baby, let’s shine. It’s my time
To shine. So, baby, let’s shine. My time
To shine. So, baby, let’s shine. It’s my time
To shine. So, baby, let’s shine. My time
To shine. So, baby, let’s shine. My time
To shine. So, baby, let’s shine. My time
To shine. So, baby, let’s shine