Business Never Personal

Chill...
Yeaaaa, hahahaha

(erick sermon)
Equip wit the rap microchip
Program, aptitude, one mo return, oh ----
My face in the magazines, showing my eyes green
(chill...) chill, fresh new dip when i'm seen
Yo, dig, it's the new fig for the e-double
I pack a mac 10 just in case of trouble
Hot like the handle on a pot, i'm steaming
Fame and more glory than morgan freeman
I'm the original, my style's deformed
So it can sound crazy ill when i perform
Yea, check 1, 2, mic supreme
Epmd, the rap american dream team
The e-double's definitely no joke
You can't see me, even wit the microphone
I'm massive dope, funky, who's deffer
Yo, when i express myself like salt 'n pepa
Erick sermon and parrish smith
The sickest, the wickest, crazy mad psycho, the slickest
Hardcore rhymin, yea, that's the ticket
Buckwhylin, ruff enuff for long island

Chill.... yeaaaaaa, hahahaha....
Ruff enuff to rock new york to long island

(pmd)
Back up, boy, move easy wit the hand motion
Don't even blink, kid, or i'ma start smoking
The glock hammer's cocked wit the speed jock
12 shots, the bust target is the brown fox
So call me smooth talk rhyme, jaywalk wit the slang talk
B-boy fanatic, straight from new york
The foundation, landmark of the rap scene
Epmd in effect, i'm clocking mad green
Like kermit the frog, sloppy like boss hog
Girls runnin wild, ?paid tho' like a klondar?
For mics are ready to flow in slow mo'
Know the rap game just like bo knows hoes
(yeaaaa, hahahaha)hard, you get scarred, messing wit the hit squad
Slide easy or catch a bullshucks charge
No time to ill, stay mental or puff a pill
Get the macadamians, and, oh, yea, kid, chill

Chill.... yeaaaa, hahahaha....
Ruff enuff to rock new york to long island....

[redman] negroes!!!!!!!!

(repeat 6x) [hit squad] the head banger, what?
[hit squad] the head banger
Parrish smith gettin wreck
[hit squad] the head banger

Verse one: parrish smith

Ka-rank the boombox as my sound knock from blocks
As i chill, and bust grills you take snapshots
Of the maniac, dressed in black, carry round a strap
Kid you play me too close (slow down and catch a cap, pow!!)
Cause i don't play games, an outlaw like jesse james
To hell with the bitches and the so-called fame (uh-huh)
Strictly biz to hard (kid yeah) as i climb charts
Bustin ass daily as i compose like mozart
Just stand, say you're mad damn, why him?
Z-oh-one tonka, five-sixty benz
I'm sick and mad deep no shorts and no sleep
I'm bugged like a tapped phone, hard like concrete
So get a grip and don't slip or catch a clip
From the infrared aimed at your head as i blast my target
The bozack, i rip up flows that
Make an mc stop and chill and say he's all that
Hardcore no r&b singer
Roll with the hit squad... down with the head banger

(repeat 4x) [hit squad] the head banger, what?
"yeahhh, head crack, head crack" -- grand puba, slow down
(repeat 3x) [hit squad] the head banger, what?
Erick sermon break it down
[hit squad] the head banger
"yeahhh, head crack, head crack"

Verse two: erick sermon

Surprise, you wonder where i've been, i've been workin
But sounds makin danger, and black birds chirpin
A real damian, omen possessed by the devil
You dig the rhythm, and i'll play the runnin rebel
Changed my style, so i can freak the funk
Yo pass the philly, hit squad spark the blunt
I got the power, to ramshack a stadium
Wubba wubba, even judy brown the palladium
Yo, i'm from the boondocks so i knows the flavor (yeah, yeah)
Sometimes i curse but now, i show behavior
Epmd, yo, is in this to win this
A brand new lp so mind your business
No jokin, i'm gettin paid fully
You wanna buy the cassette, stop by sam goody
Yo where's my hoodie? i wanna be hard and cause some ruckus
Talk with the b-boy slang and blast some suckers
Walk like an egyptian, rough crackin my steel
Plus i'm goin to court, make my own appeal
As taught as a kid or told, never talk to a stranger
Cause i could be a head banger

(repeat 4x) [hit squad] the head banger, what?
"yeahhh, head crack, head crack" -- grand puba, slow down
(repeat 3x) [hit squad] the head banger, what?
K-solo!!!
[hit squad] the head banger
"yeahhh, head crack, head crack"

Verse three: k-solo

I'm the original rap criminal (yeahhhhh)
My shots, spell spray (hoo-ahhhh) duck leaves my trigger finger digital
My gun'll make, many men, things you did when i get mad
And pissed cause i can make him my target
Braggin em taggin em draggin em mad hollow-point rhymes in my mic
Choose smith or assault over magnum (huh)
So back up off me, here's a clip
For uzis and guns, and then you faggots gonna off me
I'm sure you know the deal that my nine can box
I knock punks out quick like evander holyfield
More rhymes than music's, my solution
Subscribers of my style here's a contribution
Let's say you want a shovel layer parkin mc's like cars
And drivin mc's away
Tanks gon be full, to rappers wanna tempt me
I break the steering shift and leave em empty
Cause they can't go, so i'ma call a hoe tow truck
To come tow truck your weak side show
Back on the scene is the incredible one man team
When i get mad i turn green
The fugitive's gone peace, i'm outta here later
And here's a finger, to all you non movin spectators

(repeat 4x) [hit squad] the head banger, what?
"yeahhh, head crack, head crack" -- grand puba, slow down
(repeat 3x) [hit squad] the head banger, what?
Redman get down!
[hit squad] the head banger
"yeahhh, head crack, head crack"

Verse four: redman

Surprise niggaz! the original p-funk funks you up
I take a hit from a spliff then i get biz with the new cut
Because i can jam like teddy if you let me
A goodfella but still rugged like joe pesci
My style is mad funka-to-the-delic with the irrelevant
Shit that i kick backflips any four bitch (yeah)
Deduct and i dip then i switch
To an incredible nigga with a *nickle* nine on the hip
I always got played by a honeydip
But now i'm on the money tip so now i call the honeydip honey bitch
And swing hardcore because that's where i come from (yeah)
I rock ya like chubb, and burn scrubs like a dum-dum
Remember redman, last album i was hardcore
Now i'm back to tear the frame out your asscrack
Cause i get wreck, with the tec, with the blunt or moet
And what you see is what you get and what you're gettin is your
Ass kicked, nigga, hit you with the funkdafied figure
Like a plus funk, funk times stuffed in your back trunk punk
Yes the redman that's what they call me
Wicked with the style you think i have cerebral palsy
Like aaieeahaaa, cause i freak the styles crazy
Lullaby your stupid ass, rockabye baby
The funkadelic devil hit your ass with a level from the new school
And still holdin my jewels!

(repeat 4x) [hit squad] the head banger, what?
"yeahhh, head crack, head crack" -- grand puba, slow down
(repeat 4x) [hit squad] the head banger, what?
[hit squad] the head banger
"yeahhh, head crack, head crack"

(repeat 4x) [hit squad] the head banger, what?
"yeahhh, head crack, head crack" -- grand puba, slow down
(repeat 4x) [hit squad] the head banger, what?
[hit squad] the head banger
"yeahhh, head crack, head crack"

(repeat 4x) [hit squad] the head banger
"yeahhh, head crack, head crack" -- grand puba, slow down
(repeat 4x) [hit squad] the head banger
[hit squad] the head banger
"yeahhh, head crack, head crack"

Typed by: ohhla.com

(chorus)
Coming straight from the boon dox(3x)

(pmd)
Coming straight from the boon dox, when my tune stomps like sasquatch
You better slow down cuz i'm top notch
Wit the be-bop, can't you see hopps
Yo, i'm swinging wild, g, chill or catch a speed knock
For crying out loud, my style is buckwhyled
Straight from strong isle, peace to the ooh child
A true troop, rugged, stomp in tims boots
No static, ---- uncle sam, i got mad loot
So back up off me, break north you see
I wreck a party in half and then i'm swayze
Rap maniac, brainiac on a fly track
?i've got to zap all those? who's grabbing my bozack
But it's mine, einstein, just like the nine
Rockin my jock, loaded for primetime
I'm on a roll and the mic doc just can't stop
Bust it, coming straight from the boon dox

Chorus

(erick sermon)
1, 2, 1, 2, mic check and i'm packed wit the fire weapon
No half steppin, my nine, a black tech and
Uzi, i'm psycho crazy
Don't ever try to do me, baby
Yea, i'm still wrecking house, so what's up and a
I stuck a nigga in his gut
I'm ?rougest? competition, never outlasting
(what happen e-d)yo, i waxed ugly bastards
I took a stick of dynamite and blew 'em up, right
Then boom, i knock em out like mike
I throw a clean fight, can't leave it messy
My blow is super like joe pesci
Before i break out, let's make a toast
And after i'm finish my drink then e's ghost
So mr. bartender, give me a scotch on the rock
(where you coming, e) i'm saying peace from the boon dox

Chorus

(p: pmd, e: erick sermon, b: both)

(p)now what (e) i know what
(p)boy, your mouth shut
(e)so get these (what) nuts because the squad's butt
(p)popping ying-yang, no skills wit the hand swing
(e)another hit from the sqaud (b) it's a small thing
(p)?from the joys of funk, bunk? and make you jump
(e)and pump your hands in the air
(b)soul like a speed bump
(b)down wit def jam
(e)?those scabs rule records, man?
(p)thanks to lyor cohen (e) and russell simmons
(p)yea, but for now child (woo, woo) bow wow
(b)crazy phillie, that's the goal now, boon dox

(pmd)
It's a fact, i'm mad hard like a jail yard
I'm sick, slow, call me a retard
Can't hear nothing but the music, i'm slippin
Dark as hell and water drippin
Parrish smith, mentally sick
Serial rap killer like dave berkowitz
Yes, the son of sam and i'll be godamn
So take the force and get the balls and watch me slam, man
The exquisite rap wizard from the boon dox
My tune knock watts, been known to cause brain lock
Wit no riff raff, smooth like shaft
Breaking bones in the rap zone, chill or get smoked mad fast
Can't stop us from buggin because we're trippin
Can't hear nothing but the music, i'm slippin

(chorus)
Can't hear nothing but the music, i'm slippin(4x)

(erick sermon)
Breaker 1, 9, breaker, 1, 9, mayday
Call for backup, it's erick sermon's payday
No illusion, just mass confusion
Dull raps, i dutch them, from the funk production
I, the afromerican, black citizen
To make you scream loud as hell like sam kinison
No one can stop me
Dun na na na na na, like rocky
The combination, the jab, the uppercut
Mad footwork from the rapper expert
Bust a move, i'm worth about a million cash bucks
Say what, damn right, shut the hell up
I fought mc's word up and watch em grown up
Play em like dunkin, then pass out doughnuts
Then i freak the funky style and i use it
Md and hear nothing but the music

Chorus

(pmd)
What's this, another funky hit from the hit squad, kid
I get mad props like sonny crockett
You know it's the smooth rap flow that clocks the p doe
Can't stop now (why) cuz i'm diesel
Epmd back in effect on your rap set
Fourth cassette, more deadly than a bomb threat
Can't stop us from buggin because we're trippin
Can't hear nothing but the music, i'm slippin

(erick sermon)
Slate take two, action, the main attraction
(who's bad) i'm bad like michael jackson
Got more tricks than any kung fu flick
Understand, i'm ruff and tuff like jackie chan
My technique, the drunken mic, grasp it right
I'm teaching (p-s-y-c-h-e) psyche
I'm slammin, the dopest nigga from the underground
Out the basement, now world renown
Rocking systems, cuss and jock a victim
If we catch flack from a punk and then we diss him
Then i freak a funky style and i use it
Kid, and hear nothing but the music

Chorus

Owww!

Get on down (repeat 3x)

Verse one: erick sermon

Well, it's the e wit the juice, i'm down to get loose
Strapped in black wit the nine by the boots
Hardcore funk that make ya wanna pump a chump
My posse's thick, so i will never get jumped
The slayer, a beast from the east, i'm psycho
If i had a glove, i would be bad as michael
Some say, yo, i sound rugged
Pack wit the ultimate rap wit the power like snap
A.k.a. the mic wrecker
A rap star wit the boomin style, black as tar
Smokin, the e's no jokin, so don't trip or flip
And make a hit, so bust it
Some ain't feel the way i do when i get wreck
No half steppin, i kick back like a weapon
On the microphone, i delight
And groovy, a california quake couldn't move me

Get on down (repeat 4x)
It's going down (2x)

Verse two: pmd

No lights, no camera, but lots of action
No moonwalkin backwards, kid, like michael jackson
Strictly funk flows and steel toed timb boots to troop
State to state, stage to stage, as i clock loot
Black asiatic, rapper fanatic, automatic
Black nine mil is what i pack so kill the static
Epmd quench the sound of thumps underground
Ya stupid boy, no props here, you catch a beatdown
The squad still in effect, no record skippin
Ya stupid boy, keep the track, still bullshittin
Down wit the rap pack, still grabbin my bozack
Here's a ticket kid to ride the jim like amtrak
Got mad skills, hi-tech, been known to snap necks
From eighty-seven to ninety-two, fourth cassette
But now i'm swayze, ghost, the rap host
Who rip shows, from coast to coast

Get on down (repeat 4x)
It's going down (2x)

Verse three: erick sermon, pmd

Yea, back to the picture, the scene
It's me erick sermon, my m-16
Just in case, ya know, a fight broke out
I can just chill, pull out the smoke out
One, no grill, no charcoal, no fluid
Act like bo jackson, nike, and just do it
If there's a problem, the hit squad rolls mad deep
So i can rest my head and get some sleep

While the e-double, takes a nap, no time to slack
It's my turn to guard the fort, ready for combat
Guns and violence, that we don't promote
Just takin what's ours kid, chill or smell the gunsmoke
As i pull out, squeezin like mr. charmin
Destroyin posses of demo tapes like agent orange
So chill kid and act like you know
Peace from the md a.k.a. slow flow

It's going down (4x)
Get on down...