unknown

[erick sermon]
Owww!
Word em up, word em up yo
Yeah yeah, word em up like dat
Erick sermon's in effect
Def squad, that's the hype
One more time word
Yeah
Yeah, mackadocious shit
Yeah

This is my openin, e comin at ya lazy style
Versatile, crazy wild with my profile
Dominatin the microphone, on my own
Freakin it, with the ill vocal tone
Outspoken, here's a token of my appreciation
I bring drama like jason
Who can see me? you better ask superman
For his super vision, cause i'm on a fuckin mission
Test my skills, and i rearrange your fuckin grill
Will kill if i have to get ill
Get away, carry on, and step
Like the s1's, cause my crew carry big guns
To blow up, anybody in the range
And plus i'm bad as michael jackson, even though he +dangerous+
E double with the funk type shit
This is it, so get with the skit motherfucker

Who am i e.d. the green eyed bandit
Who am i e.d. the green eyed bandit
Heyyyyyy, erick sermon (word, that's my motherfuckin name boy)
Who am i e.d. the green eyed bandit
Who am i e.d. the green eyed bandit
Heyyyyyy, erick sermon

Check this out!
I still get loose in the rap vocal booth
I know i can, i can like a train caboose
Smoke up the hardcore scene when i be rappin
I make it blacken yo, and make things happen
Why? i'm like the michael jackson of rap
I'm bad, plus i moonwalk over tracks
I am still, so a-mazin
I flex, punk and get funky for the occasion
Superstitious, so i kill black cats and all that
And buck em down with the gat
E double in the house don't you know me
What's up homey loc, step and you get smoked
I have a dream like martin luther king
That one day, yo, i can do away
With the pitiful, and the critical wack mc's
Seperate the ocean, and throw em in between
Grab my nuts, hold em, becaues they're golden
With more wins than hulk hogan
It's the future, of a dope producer
On the rise, the hype is my green eyes

Who am i e.d. the green eyed bandit
Who am i e.d. the green eyed bandit
Heyyyyyy, erick sermon (word, that's my motherfuckin name boy)
Who am i e.d. the green eyed bandit
Who am i e.d. the green eyed bandit
Heyyyyyy, erick sermon

Aowww, part three!
Shhhhh, quiet, your rap style's tired
The stores can't sell it, the fans won't buy it
Hell no - even if it was sold at an auction
Boy get rid of it, like an abortion
Word is bond, you made a mistake
And struck out, while i'm home safe at the plate
Def squad, act like you know, backed by russell
And that word to me means dough
Cause look -- i've been rich and i've been poor
Now i'm back in the door hardcore
So whattup duke peace to the crew
Def squad's in the house gettin wrecktafied beaucoup
Motherfucker!

Who am i e.d. the green eyed bandit
Who am i e.d. the green eyed bandit
Heyyyyyy, erick sermon (word, that's my motherfuckin name boy)
Who am i e.d. the green eyed bandit
Who am i e.d. the green eyed bandit
Heyyyyyy, erick sermon

Like dat!

[pmd]
Word 'em up, check it out
Pmd's in the house
Nine-four, you know the flavor..
Mmm, funk mode
Word 'em up

So whattup whattup? yeah it's time to get down
You ready to chill, so turn up the sounds
Whether it's in your walkman - or your stereo i hope you hear me though
Bobbin that head, jammin to the radio
Cause they're playin your song
The weekend's here, party's on - payday hey
Big up to the dj's who spinnin the jams
Mix shows on friday - cold kickin
It's saturday's, it's hip-hop
Brothers choppin on the one and two
Non-stop.. the violence, and gun shootin
It's time to unite; no time for losin
Or takin steps backwards - that's not the way
Leave the stress at the office, it'll be there monday
But for now it's your time
Time to regroup, get a piece of mind..
.. and disconnect from the madness, called time-out
Take it from the pmd on the rap route
The golden voice, word biz
Live and direct - oop, there it is, time to..

Swing your own thing (word em up)
Swing your own thing (word)
Swing your own thing
Swing your own thing

Well guess who? step aside, it's the squad crew
Airtight, you know the evil that men do
Back for more.. in nine-four
Format's hardcore, steppin through like gigantor
Who is he? pmd
Set for funk mode, it's time to par
Oh yeah back in there, throw your hands up in the air
Wave em side to side, like you just don't care
So fellas yell hoe, and ladies scream out
Don't dwell in the past, live for now
Back on the prowl, thick eyebrows, style's wild
Grab the head, and just..

Swing your own thing (word em up)
Swing your own thing (word)
Swing your own thing
Swing your own thing

So if you're feelin good - let me hear you say real good
Whether you washin your car, cruisin through the neighborhood
Or playin basketball - dunkin on brothers
Coolin witcha sis, respectin your mother
That's the way it should be - family
Not mass hysteria, stress, or poverty
Four hundred years, we almost there
Just look at the tv, we everywhere
Sports lawyers doctors - music
Everyone has a brain - it's time to use it
So grab that head - prepare for the future
Cause that's the only way out
Sway; gotta..

Swing your own thing (word up)
Swing your own thing
Swing your own thing
Swing your own thing

Swing your own thing..
Swing your own thing..
Swing your own thing..
Swing, swing, swing, swing
Swing your own thing..

* versions on "greatest hits" differ from the original recordings

[parrish smith]
Yeah, vacation's over
As i say mic check, in eighty-nine, time to wreck
Tellin all the sucker crab mc's to step
Epmd's in effect
Snappin necks and cashin large checks, youknowhati'msayin?
And we gonna do it somethin like this

[erick sermon]
Shazam, let me tell you who i am
The e-r-i-c-k, s-e-r-m-o-n
Call me a lumberjack, or a midland warrior
Doin damage to the world worse than the hurricane gloria
I'm serious -- you can say i'm furious
You're sayin in your mind, "who is he?" because you're curious
A rare rap style, not heard by the usual
You bite you get damaged, so my brothers stay mutual

[parrish smith]
While i'm makin and takin, emcees shakin and flakin
Pre-heat my oven to three hundred degrees and start bakin
Emcees like potatoes, beats kickin like cato
Gettin philosophical like the greek man plato (who?)
Greek man plato (who?) the greek man plato
But i'm the a.k.ato flow, bro
As you all well know, i do a show
Pick up the dough and hoe, break to the limo
Money in the pocket, albee's hands on the ammo
Crack the olde gold, as we roll and stroll
Don't play bold sucker, cause you was told
Your spot in the box in eighty-eight was sold
So quit the singin come swingin cause of the beat that i'm bringin
Tryin to wax epmd, you be u.g.-in
On a heavy narcotic, such as speed or crack
Because your rhyme's mediocre but your tracks are wack
Not fiction but fact black, believe that
Then put away your demo cause the brother is back
And get the bozack.. e..

[erick sermon]
As i sing and do my thing i might sing
Jane, or the whole shabang
But if i snap, during the course of the rap
P tap me on the back, throw the crowd a slap
Just to distract, til i'm intact
Get my fisherman hat, so i can mack
Groove to the rhythm of a funky track
Like ("yo, you slap me and i'll slap you back")
I come correct with the context.. flex..
Just to distract, til i'm intact
Get my fisherman hat, so i can mack
Groove to the rhythm of a funky track
Like ("yo, you slap me and i'll slap you back")
I come correct with the context.. and then vex
And then flex and throw a hex on your whole complex
And then check for a second, yo, then sayyy
(r-e-s-p-e-c-t) respect!
For me the e double, or the emcee rap goddess
Cause me and pmd we get ours regardless
So get the bozack.. p..

[parrish smith]
Yo, time to get funky and raw
Stompin out posses (like who?) like gigantor
Cause when i roll i come fully equipped
Mic in the hand, tooly, and spare clips
Like a detenator with no ticks i then trip or slip
Or maybe flip while my dj's on the mix
Never lost a battle and if i did it was fixed
You must be sick all on the dilznick, like a jim hat
Your shit ain't pumpin and your rhymes are wack
Cause you're a nickel dime sucka, who hangs with tommy tucker
Like krs-one says, you a part time sucka
Who works o.t., to be like me
The capital p, the m, i'm like d
To slay an emcee, on the s-p-o-t
Leave without a motive or a c-l-u-e
So get the bozack.. e..

[erick sermon]
The mc grand royal on the microphone
Terrorist, mafioso, a.k. e capone
I'm no joke on the stroke i broke so don't choke
No hopes folks, i quote note for note
You mind float on the rhyme on i wrote (what?)
And does the wild thing, like my boy tone loc
It's equipped with the kit that bit the whole shit
Don't catch a nitfit, because my style legit
Brand new from the crew for you no voodoo
A trick from the flicks master wu kung-fu
Equipped with the posse and the time i need
Cock diesel like rocky and apollo creed
So get the bozack.. p..

[parrish smith]
Yo, mic checkin, checkin and checkin and checkin
Scanned the crowd, then start wreckin
Either kill or be killed, in the field of hip-hop
Cause if you're slow you blow you get popped mopped and dropped
If you snooze, you lose, here come the oohs and boos
I pop a no-doz, relax my lips and cruise
Past a pooh putt'n sucka whose all about schemein
Wax the p twice, you must be dreamin
Cause as you moan and groan, from the mouth you foam
Sayin deep down inside, i shoulda left p alone
Cause it's a fact, black, that when i'm loopin the track
To lounge in the danger zone, because i'm back
In fact, jack, before i launch my attack
Premeditate my assassination and come strapped
Cause your words are uttered, your wack style is cluttered
Tried to step to the e and the p and got smug
You get the bo-zack
Yo, get the bozack
Yeah, get the bozack (knahmean?)
Yeah, get the bozack

[erick sermon]
Uh-huh, yeah

[parrish smith]
The b, the o, the z
Get the bozack

[erick sermon]
Hahhh, yeah

[epmd]
Get the bozack, get the bozack
Get the booooooeoeooooeeohzack
Get the bozack, get the bozack
Get the booooooeoeooooeeohzack

[erick sermon]
Get the bozack
The bozack punk, word up

[parrish smith]
Yo, i don't play

[pmd]
So let's get it on - like marvin gaye; hey
Is that that nigga, from "you a customer"? you're fuckin a
Is for apple, j's for jack black
B is for bozack, and n is for the nutsac
(what's j for?) the j's for juggle these, please
Pmd bust rhymes like niggaz bust seeds
With zero, that's not the channel i be watchin
Niggaz clockin, no time for stoppin so i keep rockin
Big up to the hip-hop, be-bop heads bop
Non-stop up the block systems knock
Girlies jock i'm locked in funk mode
Peace to my pops; cause it's

Back to the rapper makin hands clap
(respect hip-hop and the fans black)
Back to the rapper makin hands clap
(respect hip-hop and the fans black)

Scandalous; swiss miss still funkin shit
Uhh - slow down baby, can't handle it
The way you're movin your thang, you got it goin on
Time to pop the sean dom
Take a swig of it - yeah drink it like a forty-oh
No champagne glasses, that's out the window
Push up and get my swerve on, take me there baby
Aww shit, pmd's gone
(where you goin p?) deeper and deeper
My mind's gettin stronger, she got me in the sleeper
Almost there, relax, just like i figured
Strapped down, still on the lookout for the gold digger
Blazin figure, sexin like holly
Hoes blunts and puff the ganja like bob marley
She's hardcore, ride it like an outlaw
Workin it, pullin with the lockjaw

Back to the rapper makin hands clap
(respect hip-hop and the fans black)
Back to the rapper makin hands clap
(respect hip-hop and the fans black)

I'm in the war zone - far away from home, no microphone
Just biters and tombstones on the real holmes
It's do or die, no fly guy, don't ask why
Rap is outta control, don't bungee jump or hangglide
Time to slip (slide) so save the lie
Hit squad won't die, them niggaz multiply
On the scene blowin up, sho' nuff
Wild haircut, what? don't give a fuck
This is me, peace to epmd
Took a break in nine-three now i'm back see

Back to the rapper makin hands clap
(respect hip-hop and the fans black)
Back to the rapper makin hands clap
(respect hip-hop and the fans black)

Back to the rapper makin hands clap
(respect hip-hop and the fans black)
Back to the rapper makin hands clap
(respect hip-hop and the fans black)

Hahhhh!

[pmd]
Shhh, i hear my people callin me,
"where is he? where is he where is he?
Where's the pmd?"
I'm layin low, strapped with ammo
Set for funk mode, ask your man though
Who raps rhymes hold it steady - like a pilot in the cockpit
Parrish smith go out - nah that's bullshit
On another nigga for tryin to take mines, catch the flatline
Comin through time to breathe on the mainline
Airtight, no time to stall, you tell me..

"yo nigga respect mine, or anger the tec-9
Chk-chk-pow, move from the gate now" -> raekwon

..

"yo nigga respect mine, or anger the tec-9
Chk-chk-pow, move from the gate now" -> raekwon

[pmd]
Some say the wu fly, what's a rap star?
A nigga who get props and he's clocked like radar
Can't fake moves - people lookin at cha
Twenty-four oh seven - slip and they gat cha
Snatch that behind up - clip that ass with handcuffs
Jail cell for the niggaz who like to get rough
And most niggaz get rough, cause in beef we trust
Another man damn kid you smokin angel dust
I'm snatchin props, blastin niggaz like robocop
Catch the speed-knot, tryin to mic block mic doc
Chill hobbes - i told you i roll with the hit squad
Stomp like the gobots
But some niggaz ain't hearin me so i make it clearer see
You can't fade the nigga who flips words - like swayze
And audi 5000, still housin, i'm out an'..

"yo nigga respect mine, or anger the tec-9
Chk-chk-pow, move from the gate now" -> raekwon

..

"yo nigga respect mine, or anger the tec-9
Chk-chk-pow, move from the gate now" -> raekwon

[pmd]
So turn this mic off so i can kick the wicked shit
Type of wicked shit, that make niggaz grab clips
But hold it chill - cause a jail cell's bullshit
Must grab the head - no time to be slippin jack
The world done shifted - niggaz can't see that
But some do - and they make power moves
Playin for life - can't lose, too many dues paid
Mayday, in the game everyday tryin to find a better way
Yet the world keeps slippin
So i keep movin not tryin to lose an'
Big up to all posse plus crips and crews in
Every ghetto - keep your shit thorough
And if they ask have you seen ? "hell no"
..

"yo nigga respect mine, or anger the tec-9
Chk-chk-pow, move from the gate now" -> raekwon

..

"yo nigga respect mine, or anger the tec-9
Chk-chk-pow, move from the gate now" -> raekwon

[erick sermon]
Check it out
I pull up to your bumper, with somethin funky
Yeah, somethin stronger than brass monkey
With the flavor i be kickin, dope
Like my horoscope, a sagittarius, no joke
Word, the rappin dynamite, quick to blow like mike
Who am i? (e.d.) right, right
Can you believe it, even stevie wonder couldn't see it
I'm catchin wreck so beat it
Yo i contour my lines, to freak a funky rhyme
To fit you like a pair of calvin kleins
Mad brother with distinction, keep the girls blinkin
And have the homeboys thinkin
I'm the man of hour, of the hour
I found he-man, jacked him for his power (gimme that)
Now i carry a sword, attached by a live cord
Oh my lord!

Chorus: erick sermon (repeat 4x)

Watch me do it up like this.. {"like this.." -> slick rick}
Watch me do it up like that.. {"like.. like.."}

[erick sermon]
Yeah, e's real dope (word?) yes indeed
No one can stop me, ask apollo creed
I pack a punch cause my crew runs deep
Like the brady bunch, and we all smoke the blunts
(word em up now) i get raw, raw like a fish market
Mics i spark it, with the funky target
You must trust me, and stop tryin to bug me
With the one-two, before i rush you and crush you
I'm on a mission, like a church group called commission
Word-gifted, keep the crowd uplifted (yea yea)
E double, a nigga standin tall
Rockin the microphone "for all of y'all"
Word up, live on your station
Gettin mad crowd participation, when i'm rockin the nation
Don't forget, i'm still cock diesel
Hoes be on me like the measles

Chorus

[erick sermon]
Oh no it's the _end of the road_
Oh my god like wanye, today was a good day
Word, ooh yah, i rip the mic to shreds
Enough lyrical food to keep the ethiopians fed
Word em up {*pulls on a joint*} i inhale
From the k.d. posse, two of my homegirls
When i rock the mic and get freaky and nasty
People in the industry seldom ask me
Whassup, whassup, whassup
Wit you e, ask eddie murphy (yea yea)
Don't forget, to reach for the stars
Cause i'm past that, i'm reachin for mars, so
Peace to all those true human beings
Hehehehe, i see you in the coliseums

Chorus

"this is my motherfuckin house!!" -> run of run-d.m.c.
"this is my motherfuckin house!!" -> run of run-d.m.c.
"this is my motherfuckin house!!" -> run of run-d.m.c.
"this is my motherfuckin house!!" -> run of run-d.m.c.

Intro:
"i want to know of you, i want to know of you"
Xross breeds in the house representin' queens. i'm gonna send this out to
Um, those fake so-called keepin' it real, ha ha, check it out

Verse 1:
I gets the urge to let loose on shit, bringin' the vibe like phife dog and
Q-tip
Midnight black darkness, it's the area or place thats destincive enought to
Trace
The bass, my tune throughout the room, and if you want it, it's here to
Consume
Now let's warm things up for instance a witness, as i break it down up in
This sentence
He, who shall not follow the funk shall fall, on they face
Not able to dip di in the place, my style is vintage, doper than any wine
On the market
Mics i spark it, flying tracks is my target, (def squad) i handles my
Situation
Without lyrics form jason's, i still get's ill, beeotch
Even from the jealosy i recieve, you can't hold me back i won't retreat
I'm determined to be the nicest creation since devices
Or italian ices, no matter what the problem is, i still, ah 1-2, in your
Face like i'm biz

Hook:
Boy meets world "i want to know of you, i want to know of you."
I wanna know if you feel me though (x8)

Verse 2:
I believe in the power of the conscience mind
And if you think something then it becomes something like
If i had to battle a whole crew, if i couldn't beat them
Then my conscience would defeat them, yeah
I wouldn't put my career in jeopardy, but i will let something off if these
People keep stressing me
This is madness, i wish i was around when that midnight train to georgia
Picked up gladis
Listen close life is just what you make of it, if you wanna be happy like
Mary j.
Then hey, then get rid of negativity in your circumference
Or outside your realm in mass abundance
Knowing that the industry is fulling up with drama got some hype (fakness
From people of all types)
Even the so-called keepin' it real type stars are frauds, get the sword

Outro:
And the question is asked. who is the fake nigga? who is the fake brother
That is always fuckin' up your shit. you wanna know how a niggas fake?
Check it out. sit back and you focus your shit from a general perspective,
And if your shit ain't lookin' tight, there's a fake nigga in your
Circumference. and that's word is born. for the 9-5 area, cause def squad
Forever, reigning much terror.

I.

It's on breaker 1, 2 mike checkin'
Flexin no half steppin
When i release the funky weapon
Like ricochet ping ping ping.
I make fans fell it even when i sing.
The green eyed bandit coming funky with the tune yes
I'm blowing up like tom berringer in platoon.
I'm playing kinda ruff like zapp
Whapp and e-double smack to all the crossover raps black
Who ain't down with the format
When you should be wearing khakis and not dress slacks
That's wack
You trippin you better wake up and smell the coffee
And then back up off me
I serious i can't believe some people letting frontiers in
And then compare them equal boy you must be buggin
You lucky you don't catch a slug in the chest in
From the smith and wessons.
Change the out look
Change the cover of the book
You hip hop crook and give back what you took.
It's the funk coming at cha
So don't let the crossover catch ya.
Boy stay real.

Ii.

It's on again yeah about the fake hip hop trends
For those who can't comprehend just ask your friends
They know the real deal of rap music no frontin
You can't be talking loud and saying nothing
You must be true to the game you understand
And if not i could kill you man
For being false plus extra fake on the tape
Talking hardcore when you soft like a piece of cake.
You can't put nothing pass me that horrendous cause
I've been here since strictly business
The era of eric and rakim, biz, public enemy, run-dmc,
Houdini, the beasties, stetsa, fresh prince and jazzy jeff, ll
When he was rockin bells.
Sucker which fake emcee is rearranging the structure band
The motherf--ker. and don't let this happen again
Cause rap could be gone the wind.
So stay real.

Iii.

Yes i'm back black for those who might be confused
And lost and don't wanna pay the cost
Of me hardcore style type a human being
On the microphone when i be emceeing.
Some fake the funk and main source know it
How do i know cause mtv shows it.
Clowns that should be beat down on the spot
And catching nothing but speed knots the bumbadots
I insist we veto all fake emcees and wanna be's
That's worst than the aids disease.
So wake up spike lee joint
And don't be a knucklehead and get to the point
With the funk and pump up the volume
Make the wild tune to make the party boom
Peace to redman the rap funkadelic
The only emcee that's compared to erick because i'm real.

[chorus, ice cube]
With tha boom and ping!
Listen to the ill shit that i bring bring!
(repeats 4 times)

[erick sermon]
What's the 411?
Erick sermon, ice cube, and kam are here to get the job done
So back the fuck up! i have an attitude, dude, i'm 'bout ta get rude
I'm buckin' out shots during my interlude
Right about now i'm 'bout ta get corageous like the cat
Got the gat in the corner of my back so get the bozack
The american dream, the people choice pick
I flip more vowels than pat sajak's white bitch
I'm bad ask michael jackson's dad about e-double
The mack fram, the black superman made of steel
The mic i'm holdin' is a samson
E-d the green eyed bandit in raw fashion
I'm lettin' niggaz know my territory
My ground is rugged. i kill a million niggaz so fuck it!
Nick knack paddy whack give a dog a bone
Once again it's on with the brand new song, yeah boy!

[chorus]

[kam]
God damn, not kam!
But i'm afraid so, i lay low like a brick
Quick to make a cameo, so hand me your eardrum cuz here comes the 411
Little devils don't go to heaven, 187 on a saltine cracker
Smack a, paranoid busta so don't make me have to act a fool
What's up? now you can determine
The west coast niggaz is down with erick sermon on the g tip
We trips hard on the opposition
Three niggaz on a mission so listen to the ill shit
Cuz we'll get wrecked!
What you expect! fuck a rain nigga take a chin check!

[chorus]

[ice cube]
Well here i go again, throwin' up the w
Ice cube and i'm down wit' e-double crew
Pullin' up in my homie's black 6-4
Hittin' switches but mine's a convertible
Matched to the west side, still got the 2-2
Cuz some niggaz don't believe in a gang truce
Personal shit what is this??? epmd, goin' out of business?
God damnit! can't leave my dog stranded...the green eyed bandit
Picked up kam cause my nigga need a ride. fuck a peace treaty
But still have the 4-5...glock cocked for the clown
Yeah we down pulled up and echoed sound
Don't ya know that we can drop 10 of these, dope tracks
So fuck all our enemies!

[chorus]

Intro:ha ha ha ha. this is doctor trevis, giving a phone call to y'all
Funky fuckers

Erick sermon:
Y'alll guess what the fuck is going on now
Me and reggie noble, making funk tunes around the global
Cause times keeps on slippin', and i get the funk from the kitchen
Then commits to ass whippin', there is no time for me to bust it
So i'm a chill and let red get into a fly poetic justice

Redman:
Yo, it's all in the mind and i'm high and i kick it for the do or die
On 2 or 1 area code leavin' shit blown
Funkadelic is the one to bring the preacher out the teacher
When i feak 'em, oooh, yes y'all i got the mad method can you catch it?
And if your ear is not tuned in then ajust it

Erick sermon:
Breaker 1-9, breaker 1-9 representin' today
Hey, erick sermons on the way
Dre gave me a ride so i gangsta lean while drs will put the smoke in my
Chest
And if you understand me then escape and kick it
While the e-double gets wicked wiht your brain twisted
It's going down, it's going way down
Go get the 4 pound and boogie down

Redman:
Boogie woogie to boogie to band boogie to that
My rap get mad dap on ass cracks and f it be on my ass cap
Cause my funk rolls thicker than bisquick
If it's mixed with that same funky sticky shit i roll my splifs with
I shot the sheriff on the terris
And i kick the funk like these to have more off days than ferris
Just wrote these raps up in the studio
Brothers can't tell and sisters can't hear me no (hear me hoe)

Hook:
E got the funk, red got the funk, red got the funk, e got the funk (x2)

Erick sermon:
Someones knockin' at my door, yo johnny gill, i need the whole floor
So i can get busy remember? and if you don't call michael jackson
And don' be afraid to ask him, erick sermon got mad tunes
No matter what they say, i got more props than richard bay
The mind bogglin' with the hardcore followin'
So what's up, cause i don't give a fuck

Redman:
Whoa, i make you sing with tony braxton
I tear the shreads out of jams like stadiums when they packed in
Back up boy you messin' with the rude bwoy yes i told ya
I rock leather jacks with tims, sweatpants one leg rolled up
Hold up! this is a stick up, i spark the izm with ? like a bizcut
1 and 2 skirts get lift up, e got the funk and red got the funk
Pop the trunk, i get blocks of funk to make victims say "that's the one!"
Of coarse i'm funky like fat people having intercorse
Basically the funk is stuck in your teeth so get the dental floss
Oh oh, freak out, 20 i know
But let me knock your teeth out
When i was young i turned my tree house into a weed house
And i'm deeper than nostradomis, when i'm in chronic
And i leave your kitty cats meowin' home made bondage (meow)
Beeotch, trick, trick, beeotch

Outro:
Ha ha ha. this is dr. trevis comin' to y'all motherfuckers with some more
Raw shit. def squad represntitives. def squad forever, signin' off.

* versions on "greatest hits" differ from the original recordings

[e] yo whassup p?
[p] yo, whassup e double?
[e] how bout the crab mc's out there?
[p] no doubt
[e] tried to mess with the squadron
[p] straight up
[e] knowin they ain't got no wins
[p] nut-ting, nut-ting
[e] knahmsayin? gotta let em know this time
[p] yeah we got these cats
[e] we get down like that
[p] straight underground like that
[e] word up
[p] two thou'
[e] check it

[erick sermon]
Open sesame, and let down the main gate
Before you scream epmd, you should wait
I roll with a posse, can you try to stop me
Also yo, your brothers tried to pop me
On the sneak tip, without me knowin
So i keep goin, and my rhymes keep flowin
On and on, and i don't quit
I get pushed to the limit, and yo that's it
Step by step, i put an end to your fun
Cause i'm the chosen one, yes me my son
A young kid from the ghetto, a kiddie from the city
I don't feel sorrow, and i have no pity
To run up on you, and wax plus tax
Your gold, your money, and from your eyes your contacts
Then flex over, a hop skip and a jump
To the next town, to go punk a chump
Mc's try to diss me, and try to bust caps
I'm not havin it, and that means no haps jack
So get the bozack, and lay off the crack, cause that's wack
This is the big payback

..

[parrish smith]
As i go and flow, to a different type of tempo
(why md?) c'mon e, cause p keep it simple
Plus i'm strikin like lightnin, throwin blows like tyson
Slayin mc's on the q-t, sorta like a sniper
So if a sucker don't like me, the feelin is mutual
I tune my rhyme to a low rpm, then shift to neutral
And crack a 40 (what kind) of olde e
To slay an mc (how) on the q-t
(so what's your name boy?) c'mon e, you know it's m.d.
Now while i'm wreckin he's checkin, all the bodies that's left and
A pile behind the stage, the p is like steppin
Off from the scenes, i see lights and si-rens
Witness everywhere, but no one seen a thing
When cops ask questions, my description is vague
No answers at all, just bodies behind the stage
One witness yells out, that he was dressed in black
Stupid dookie link, with a fisherman hat
When five-ohs ask how he fleed from the spot?
"in a black sports car, i think it was an iroc
But the windows were tinted, and we couldn't get a look"
(why?) there was smoke from the rubber he cooked
The big payback

..

[erick sermon]
No rome-et-oh, or juliette romance story
Just epmd, the fame and the glory
The rappin technique, somethin like fencin
Dangerous, it keep you in suspense
And you have to be cool, and plus have stamina
Cause if you don't, i'm gonna end up stabbin ya
In your guts, from the razor cuts
And i'ma stick and pick, until your mind goes nuts
It might sound gross, or make your stomach bubble
But don't ever ever ever, mess with e double
I'm like jumpin jack flash, a spy with an eye
I do no stunts, and i'm not the fall guy
I'm just the e, the r-i-c-k, that's all
Say some check one-twos, and some yes yes y'alls
I'm the man of the hour, too sweet to be sour
(so what you sayin e?) i got "soul power!"
So dig it, as i kick it, keep your eyes open
Cause a brother like me, is always scopin
In fact, you should pack, because i cut no slack
It's like that.. this is the big payback

..

[parrish smith]
If rappin was a tribe i'd be the chief commanche
Hat fat link, chunky rings, nuttin fancy
So saddle up mc's, and off we go
It's not a rodeo, but i carry a lasso
Cause i'm back from vacation, cause sucker kept slippin
Rappin off-beat, plus they tune wasn't hittin
Don't wanna claim a style on the m-i-c
But i can go state to state, cold rippin shows with e
Cause whether maxin or relaxin, waxin or taxin
Never step to a show without packin
My partners, mr. smith and mr. wessun
So nothin moves funny, at the rappin session
I'm strictly biz and knuckles, no time for laugh or chuckles
I drop clear lyrics, while your bass sound muffled
(you sniff blow?) hell no, and still flow and say dough
More or less do a show.. nahhh
The only high i get, is when my fans yell hoe
So get the bo-zack, cause we're back to hack
Here to let you know that it's the big payback

Tom j is in the house (repeat 2x)
Rap is outta control (repeat 6x)

Verse one: erick sermon

G, man, do i have the power like he-man
To crack a wack mc's head, open like a pea can
Damn, my name should become sam
But i prefer, a grand royal for the jam
I'm putting heads out, the guns i use to pump lead out
Hey son, i suggest that you head out
I total, cremate, strikin mic flakes
I won't break, i make more nerds than a earthquake
Strong, got more strength than king kong
I'm worldwide, i'm interviewed like kaity chung
I'm on now, live at 12, it's so dope
All the way to 4 o'clock, there no soaps
I'm able to rock the mic nice and stable
It's a chance that you might see me on cable
Vision, showtime or hbo with the flow
Getting more play than rambo
Aiyyo, whatta you know, party people, rap is outta control
Rap is outta control, it's definitely, fuckin outta control
Rap is outta control, rap is definitely is outta control
It's outta control, rap is outta control

Verse two: pmd

Straight from the underground, where universal beatdown is a mush
Yo, i stuck crab mc, e (too late, he got crushed)
Was he a pop rap singer, r&b swinger
Faggot who jumped the gate and now you get the finger
In other words, it's absurd to try to get wit
The brother from brentwood, long island, nicknamed swift lip
I'm too smooth and yes, i groove to the slam track
Wit a beck's in my right hand, left hand on bozack
I moved on ya posse, first reaction was "oh shit
Let's do that brother, hell no (why) he's too quick"
So dial 1-900-55-eat-shit
I pack a twelve shot nine mil and yes i still kick
(what) ass like a jock (height) 6'3" and stocky
(rap name) not balboa, so motherfuck rocky
I'm the mainstream supreme, slamming like aikeem
The dream, and yes sometimes it may seem that

Rap is outta control (repeat 2x)
Sure dude, rap-rap-rap-rap-rap, for sure dude
Rap is outta control, yes, yes y'all, yes y'all
Yes y'all, yes y'all, kick it e

Verse three: erick sermon, pmd

I stand tall, i won't fall, i recall
Ha ha, your rhymes stall
When i bust caps, until they kryptonite caps
I reign of steel, i swap bullets like that
I'm like, superman, fly high up in the sky
And if you try to shoot me down, clown, i won't die
I cremate

I hate, let's exterminate
Wait for a second, e, time to debate
As i take my fisherman hat off, there's no hat
For an mc on a trail of a mad comeback

"kick it over here baby pop!"

Chorus: murray, sermon, others

[km] swing it over here!
[all] yo swing it over here!
[km] swing it over here!
[all] c'mon swing it over here!
[km] y'all swing it over here!
[all] yo swing it over here!
[km] come swing it over here!
[red] yo, swing it over there!

Verse one: keith murray

My rap style is swift like boom bips
So come get a whip, and a bump, it's rough
Crews couldn't hold it in handcuffs
The ordeal is that i'm raw ill on the mic
Switchin my styles up like a transvestite (word)
I think of competition as ?? and
Keith murray is the vocabulary champ
?come in against deep notable to breach lines?
I'll make you make the same mistake twice three or four times
And nobody got a style like this
You could say, i got my thinking cap on backwards
I'll demolish the retarded smartest rap artists
Regardless, tryin to scream the hardest
I fuck your head up like amphetamines with l.o.d.
Then bend you out of shape like a master yogi
I put my head through your chest, just to see
Who's next in line, just to get wrecked
I makes contact, bust the interlude
I take my skills to another level like qualudes
And you couldn't hear me out; cause the type of shit
I converse about'll drag your brain in the slaughterhouse

Chorus: change to [all] throughout

Verse two: erick sermon

Cling cling, somebody tell me something
Why i got more props than don king without bouncing boxing rings?
*ding ding* i be the flyest guy you ever sawr on the microphone
Rip the shit to pieces, so leave me alone
Check me out, the way i freak the mode
The active half flippin shit so split 'fore i explode - boom!
So umm, pay attention, before i put you and your crew on suspension
For being closed minded to my invention
Yo, i rock on reel when i record oh my lord
The world full of jackers so i keep my shit stored
When i rock the microphone i rock it right
And keep it hardcore and more blacker than wesley snipes
To my crew there's no match
You want more funk then here's another batch, yo i

Chorus: [all] throughout

"the redman that's what they call me" --> epmd's 'headbanger' (repeat 3x)
[ed] oh no, here comes the funkadelic redman

Verse three: redman

Aoowwwwwhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh my goodness! could this be
The funk that i was stretching out my lungs
Funkadelic sums up *nasal inhale* i clear the mucus
Stick tissue up my nose to stop the snot from makin spots
To be or not i still give niggaz polka dots for plots
Now richard dawson had a survey sayin that i was awesome
Throw on your walkmans while i pour the funk sauce in your coffins
Wake up! while the blunt's laced up just to pick the pace up
My style's freaky, nasty like ?seka? pussy papers
When i raped her, you don't know check the four-uno-uno you know
That funk mixture that gets your body, holy like scriptures
Now right about now i'm settin off a bomb to blow the empire
To ashes -- cause my shit's more raw than niggaz stashes
Massive funk, swingin bangin bent up while i fucked ya
I'm rough enough ta, fuck up another white man's trucker
Redman's evil like the board of ouiji, niggaz could smoke
A whole pound of weed and couldn't see me off the tv!

[erick sermon]
Aooowwwwwwwwwwwww!
Part one, the mastermind begins upon a quest
Gettin stupid -- shootin rhymes like arrows shot by cupid
Ahh, you so crazy, is what somebody told me
You can't hold me, so why you actin bold g?
Come correct when you steppin dude, don't get rude
Or i might blast you durin my interlude
But for real though, i'm doper than chronic
A million dollar man, but i'm not bionic
Erick sermon, a name you know so don't front kid
E.d., rock the mic and roll the blunt, ya dig?
Goal is to get naughty by nature
And blow up like when girls blow up my skypager
Make loot by the stacks - so when i come back
Through my neighborhood, they see i'm doin good
I got my hat to the back, my hands down below
So act like you know

Chorus: erick sermon (repeat 2x)

Imma gitz mine, you go and get yours (3x)
Imma gitz mine, you got it!

[erick sermon]
Part two, show the way i flip the funk lyric
And get ghost - with the magical form of spirit
I do my thing, i don't dare front or flake
I commence to earthquake, dominate, and cremate
Abuse and use a funky form of dialect
When i mic check, i freak the ill concept like
Skip to my loo my darling, i hear someone calling
Hey, erick sermon, yes yes y'alling
I got funk by the ounce to make you bounce
To the bus stop, and flash back to the wop
Now i got the +vibeology+, in a funky way
Somethin paula abdul would say
My style development, should be arrested
Arrested development, _everyday people_
From my heritage kickin, e's on a mission
It's a black thing kid, and not the blonde ambition
Mackaframa, fly mack-dose
Got props from north south, east and the west coast
Like michael jackson boy, just _leave me alone_
Cause once again it's on

Chorus

[erick sermon]
(worrrd) one two, as i speak upon the funk
Why is that when the ?, the people told the junk
Man, we can't have anything
Why can't we all just get along like my man rodney king
I'm a young man, doin what i have to
Who asked you? i'm doin what i gotta do
I'm guaranteed to have my own show, like arsenio
If i maintain to be a desperado
Stayin wicked when i kick it through your speaker
You might think i'm a alien, but that's a corny ?
Because my ways are, "strange -- and i like it"
And got power like a psychic
I'm +cool like dat+ when i react with the rap
But if you ain't down with it then get the bozack

Chorus

Intro:
This goes out to my peoples in queens. representing, brooklyn, uptown.
Yeah, yeah boogie down bronx, staten island, all the way to new jersy. tri
State area. long island

Verse 1:
Ha ha, welcome radio land and others, my underground brothers is mad deep
Like gutters
I bring it no matter what the situation, underwater, through fire
Across barded wire, what? i'm quick to change faces without r. kelly
When you step on me you best be ready. i heats it up like house kitchen
When i'm bitchin' with this redition, chill or you might catch an ass
Whippin'
There's something wrong ha, i can't go on, and commence
Tear the frame out an mc's ass with the quickness, no forgiveness
This is the way e does buisness, one touch and i'll weaken the average came
To be rap star
By far by far, my entourage is sugar hill like wesly snipes
Def squad is the main attraction for y'all everynight

Hook:
"i came through the door" - rakim
And i set it off (x4)

Verse 2:
Dun da da, the e double brings it full steam
Eyes are green, yeah, taken sucker niggas for they cream
I rock the mic, alright, with intentions to please and decapitate all
Gimmick mc's
Yeah, i come action packed like a flick, and dismantle those duck mc's that
Can't handle
My sound goes through my musical speakers, beeotch, and flash a symbol like
The grym reaper
To signify, gamma ray i display on wax is ridiculous, way out likt the crew
On star trek
Yeah, i keep my style black like panthers, with women more fat than
Samathas
Damn, this don't make no f in' sense, for me to be on top bigger than
Monuments
A star ghost super nova turns into a black hole
That got put into your soul

Hook (x4)

Verse 3:
For those that envy me and say i ain't about nothing and everthing you see
My names on something
Flawless, outlandish, unique complete, off the wall technique i develop
Without speech (woah)
On bended knee i could damage an mc, thourgholy
Yeah, yeah take him for his currency, remarkable, the black superman in the
Sky
Flying through the air with green eyes

Hook (x4)

Keith murray talking outro:
Yeah, yeah yeah, watch your back black. don't even step up, word is born.
L.o.d. is in here too you know what i'm sayin'? def squad for life, ppp
Taking it everywhere, midwest, mideast, southwest, southwest, north, south,
East, west, northwest, northwest, south, north, south, everywhere i sets it
Off. you know what i'm saying? paintin the boards, rippin' the mic, rippin'
Niggas anything you like word up set it of e d. keith murray in this piece.

{beastie boys sample:
"here's a little story i gots to tell" repeats in background}

[erick sermon]
Hype, one two like that y'all
Check it out one two y'all
It's the beat, that make it one and two y'all
It's the beat, that makes me wanna ?
Peace to my niggaz
Peace to my mens
Like that, one two y'all, check it out

Sunday's here, the end of the week
And the club's packed and shit, i feel like freakin
Pick up the phone, call my niggaz, "yo whattup dude?
Need me a bitch man, to put me in the fuckin mood
Check this here - i'll pick you up around twelve o'clock
Right around the parking lot, i'll find a spot
It's on, man i'll see you soon
In about twelve hours, yeah past noon"

It's the hype yo
It's the hype

Word, pulled up brake, ehh, by the front door
Parlay, and i stepped out hardcore
I tipped the boy park the car in the front
Not the back, in case i have to run and get my strap
I walked inside, somebody sing, "errrick serrrmon"
That's me, got me in free
Looked around the club, man no half-steppin
Walked straight up, to the v.i.p. section
Sat by the wall, so i can see what's happenin
My boys spread out, got their girls, and rappin
Oh no, i see a girl comin towards me
Posse deep, so i paused for the cause g
She approached me, hi, told me her name
I told her my name, then kicked the game
Sat beside me, like little miss tuffet (hello)
Talkin bullshit, knowin i want to fuck it
Basically, i figured she was widdit
So i pulled out my ink pen and exchanged the phone digits
Gimme a call when you get to your crib
So i can get directions, right to where you live
She smiled, and left, the girl was wide open
I'm no jokin, when the e blows the smoke in
Check the rolex, asked for my check
The waitress came over in a pair of black spandex (whoo!)
Gave me a look like, "aren't you erick sermon?"
"yes, and who is it concernin?" me, that's the hype

It's the hype

I asked her, "what time you get off?" "oh, in 15 minutes"
So i stormed the bitch like a blizzard
"umm, can i take you home?" "sure meet me in the parking lot
I'll flash my high beams, so you can find my spot"
She came out - man, she was all that
Cool like that, and stacked like that
She jumped in with a wide open grin
Before i went to her crib, i dropped off my best friend
Got to his house, and gave him dap
He knew what time it was, so he passed me a jim hat
Got to her house, then parked the jeep
I asked her who was home she said her sister but she sleep
Walked upstairs, right into the room
With one skylight lookin straight at the moon (yep yep)
She wasted no time, man she was on it
Grabbed for the bozack, and her hands was packed
Took off our clothes, went to work, man trust me
I heard someone knockin, somebody tried to bust me
It was her sister, man i must be buggin (ahh shit!)
It's the same girl, i met from the night clubbers
"that's your sister? oh i didn't know -- i'll go"
And they both screamed, "hell no!"
They smiled, with a devilish grin
And the other sister jumped in

That's the hype
It's the hype yo
That's the hype
Word em up, one two it's the hype, check it out yo yo
It's the hype yo
It's the hype, yo it's the hype, word em up it's the hype
Yo ?, take em out

[shadz of lingo]
Yeah, this is colorado from shadz of lingo
Kickin it with the funklord himself, e double
Hittin' switches, and we bout to get stupid
So you know, yo e, check it

[erick sermon]
Ah yeah one two, hey young world, hey young world {"it's on!"}
Mic check, here i go again, check me out
Bust the flavor {"heyyyyyyyyy"} you know my clout
Rough and rugged -- funk's the contact i hit you with
To make your head split, trip and do a backflip
I swing it hardcore like an orangutang
I bring it wicked, and freak the funk slang
Like god damn, yea dude gnarly, fuckin a
I don't play-doh, my nickname ain't clay
It's the e double, mackaframa, bust the grammar
My style is sickening, like roseanne-ah
Plus, i'm funky like _atomic dog_
Boy you can't see me, i'm thicker than fog, so
Save that drama, here's a floppy disk don't risk it
Boo-yaa, that's my biscuit!
On the mic, i cover every angle
A square, tri-part to a rectangle
I mean dat wit a passion, so be it
When i rock the mic it's worth seein
So cop a squad and parlay bitch
With the e-r-i-c-k, while i'm hittin' switches

Chorus: erick sermon (repeat 2x)

Off and on, off and on, it's on (4x)
Hittin' switches!

[erick sermon]
Ah shit, it's part two, it's on with the funk so
Ring the alarm, ding! while i drop the bomb
On the country, e's gettin funky word to mother
I smother, any emcee or so-called brother
Why? i gets busy, who the hell is he?
The roughneck from new york city
You wanna mess around with the ill bastard
Then get your ass kicked, messin with the click
Def squad, now on location, with the funky sensation
You wanna step you must be freebasin
Punk, why you playin, you bored?
You can't afford, to get choked by the mic cord
I keep you drunk like whiskey, solve the mystery
Ummmm, without agatha christie (there we go)
You think you know _what's going on_
Without marvin gaye around, c'mon let's get down
I spark your brain with all funk material
And gettin wicked, and let wilson pickett
Before i break, let me announce - get the bozack
Now we all can bounce, as i'm hittin' switches

Chorus

[erick sermon]
(switch) back in effect mode, droppin loads
Watch me explode with the devil in me like crossroads
And ding-a-ling-a-ling with the guitar, freak the funk speech
Make the contact strong as bleach
Rock the mic make the vibes right, and plus dy-no-mite
So i can fly high like mike and "just do it"
And get freaky-deaky on the real, grab the steel
In case there's caps to peel
In the mix, when i flex the context, beware
Like when you're havin safe sex
I continue to get brand new, one two
My mic held tight, so i can recite the hype
And get busy, my name is erick sermon
Back for the adventure, without pee-wee herman
For those who don't know, don't act suspicious
While i'm hittin' switches

Chorus

Intro:

I'll just sway...
This's the way it goes down
Def squad
Nine-pound
Check this here

Verse one:

The e gets wicked, no need for the biscuit
The green-eyed funkdafied brother coming wicked
I sets the party off just like tanqueray
The funk lord, nobody else could swing this way
I put the loc to the motion, drop the funk coast to coast and
I buck like shot, cuz i know i got cha opin
Check the soup, i dogg the mic like snoop
I get swift like h-town, when i knock da boots (daaat's right)
I'm dynamite with this mic
I show like doug e. and i rock the mic lovely
The afrodesiac, bringin the do-wah-diddy
To your city, on the zapp side with the vibe
I'm stone cold like bobby and ralph t
I come with the game of death, without bruce lee
The irregular speakin, for those mc's who be tweakin
Catch me at the beacon just freakin

Chorus:

Brothers can't see me
Cuz my style's the bom-digi-bom-uh-dang-a-dang-digi / repeat 2x
...
Brothers can't see me

Verse two:

It goes one for the trouble, two for the show
Aiyyo, i'm gettin airplay like the most beautiful
I'm the mack, i made goldy turn chrome
When i induce my styles upon the microphone (yeah)
I goes down for y'all in broad daylight
Weeded, rockin the mic like ta-dow and psych
Today is a green day, so it's blazin
To specify it, i get big-up from jamaicans
Hey, the e-r-i-c-k gets down for the public
More doper than janet jackson's stomach
Ask anybody, who's the dopest producer?
I think of cruise, i'm never too much like i'm luther
My style is the craziest
No crew is fadin us
You got beef with my squad you better dare that
The shit i kick make rappers say, "i shoulda snared that"

Chorus

Verse three:

Complete this puzzle, what squad beat up like russell simmons
And more flyer than robin givens
Cosmic slop, from the darkside
Basically, i can't wait, songs from the redman tape
(and make much sense when he's kickin fool) cause i constantly keep shitting
And y'all constantly keep listening
Yeah, who can it be now, watch out
Flying through the air with wings e double doing my thing

Chorus

Intro:
You abou to come through right. (yeah don't stress it.) you about to come
Through. (i got this check this out man.) you ain't gonna front on me (i
Ain't gonna front on niggas man.) make sure man i'm tellin' you right now.
(check this out. what i'm about to do right now.) you gonna kick it word
Up. ha

Erick sermon:
Personal ggats i gots about 11, without weapons i swing more bats than k7
Plus, i'm soup like campbell without heaven
Some rappers pack great big guns like frank drebbin
In this century i uphold the crown, for bringin' flavor in ya ear
Plus i'm gettin' down, i manuver techniques for species of all kinds
The third, yours and mine, introduction is in full effect
I come with the mothership and some other shit
Yeah all the way live like a concert
The most respected brother, puttin' in some work

Hook:
Yeah if you got a crew you better tell em.
E kicks rhymes from the cerebellum. don't slip or you won't be around next
Year
"well heres a little something that needs to be heard." - slick rick

Rosalyn:
Check the poetry in motion, from this bom bazi smokin'
Bitch that get you open, it's mess if you tangle with my tresses
Cause i posses gifts that's wickeder than hexas
That explode on the scene be all means, i be flushing mc's like queens
And none of y'all can see me, got more boom bom than manzini
Your style is strickly primi, and i stomp with the big dogs
Off the wall with a crew that rough enough to rush limbaugh
We stay, strapped, part of packed pistol posse
I represent through mind soul and body
In any form i'm doin' work over beat breaks
Now even cheap skates is peepin' my tape release date
Word born, i'm comin' in like a swarm
Then i'm gone before you can ring the alarm

Hook

Keith murray:
A-yo catch this word bubonic plaque, in your head back chest arms and legs
When i'm coming through grab your cranium for ultimatum
Punk i faze them subterranium, my subliminals mix with criminal chemicals
Got more milk than sylabals then alphabet cereal
Place your bet and your whole entourage will get wet
That's a promise cause the squad don't make threats
I'm a, graceful poet with some distic ballistics, above and beyond all that
Other bullshit
Linguistics will bless a anticeptive, nerve wreckin', conceptive or
Consistant contestant
My deviant delieverance be leavin' mc's in the state of malmet depressive
(word up)
Damaging your medulla, cerebrum and cerebellum, you got a crew you better
Tell em

* versions on "greatest hits" differ from the original recordings

[p] uhh, yeah, knahmean?
Just kick back in the studio with my man e-double, ?
[e] yeah yeah
[p] just thinkin back to yo how large we'd be, knahmean?
Yeah, to them cats out there hustlin them demos
Keep the faith, keep hustlin, knahmean e?
[e] yeah yeah, yeah yeah
[p] i'ma lace em like this, check it

Verse one: parrish smith

I was coolin in my car one day you see
Clockin a double nickel on the l-i e
When it dawned on us that it was, ten o'clock
Turned on the tunes to hear the dj rock
The hands got to clappin, the fingers start to snappin
E now was coolin, brooklyn spirits we was snappin
Comin in and out of fantasies on how large we can get
Coolin in rocks and benzes with the ground effect kits
I wanted black, e was on the two-tone
Stupid boomin system with the hand-free phone
The dream gets better and i would like to go on
But i was brought back to reality by a toot of a horn
Smoke everywhere, oh just what we needed
A meeting at twelve, and the car overheated
Feelin real low, low enough to die
Holdin up traffic, on the fdr drive
We had to play ourselves, in the fresh dipped gear
E double had to push while md steered
There went our dreams, to cool with golden limos
And alls we kept sayin was please listen to my demo (listen to my demo)

Please listen to my demo (3x)
Please-please-please-ple-please listen to my demo

Verse two: erick sermon

In the year eighty-seven when we first took off
Then i jumped on p-6-8 and broke north
Walked the big city streets of manhattan
Buildings, the whole nine yards, so enchantin
Thinkin if we got a chance, we could rock it
Funky fresh demo tape in my pocket
We was walkin, and got dissed twice today
Then we stopped at 1974 broadway
We walked in with grins on our chins
And p had juice with mr. virgil simms
He played the tape and we started to laugh
Played ?if it was sock? innocent from backstabs
People start to smile inside we buckwhylin
Sayin this all started back from freestylin
They liked it, and they was very kind
But me and p was like, "yo g, where do we sign?"
Went in the backroom, things was luvy duvy
Met ron resnick, and his partner juggy
It felt good, as i remembered
We signed the dotted line, now we fresh record members
Had dreams, of fancy cars and limos
And i wanted was somebody, to listen to my demo

Please listen to my demo
Please-please-please-ple-please listen to my demo
Please listen to my demo
Please-please-please-ple-please listen to my demo
Please listen to my demo
Please-please-please-ple-please listen to my demo
Listen to my demo
Listen to my demo
Demo, d-d-d-d-demo, demo, d-d-demo
Demo, demo, hah, millenium ducats, peace

[sermon doing a high-pitched voice]
Erick sermon is coming up... i see him! i see him!

[erick sermon]
Word up

"you're quite hostile..."
"i got a right to be hostile!"

[jeff stewart]
Ladies and gentlemen, are you ready
Help me bring to the stage the grandmaster
The undisputed heavyweight of hip-hop
The funklord, you know him as the green eyed bandit
Ladies and gentlemen... the mc grand royal
Erick sermon!

[erick sermon]
It's the e double (who?) the funklord, god damn
Yo i'm swingin more shit than tarzan (word em up)
I freak the ill tactics cause i'ma ghetto bastard
Some say my rap style is drastic
Whoahh, i tear the frame out the microphone
Daddy's home, the owner of the chrome (yeah yeah)
Yo, my concepts is wicked; even the wicked witch
Couldn't get with the switch, the ugly bitch (word em up)
Time to reach my peak this week, and rock a ill technique
So y'all can freak out like sheep
The undercover from brentwood, yes i'm doing awesome
You wanna see me call steve austin (hehehehehe)
For your protection, go sit in the r&b section
For this session
Cause i'm real deal boy you better believe it word
Straight from the boondocks, a.k.a., the suburbs
Peace to the underground, where i create my sound
That's more doper than "spellbound" (word)
My time's up, so what the fuck slouch? (yeah)
I'ma be back, for now i'm out (word up!)

"you're quite hostile..."
[jeff stewart]
And now "i gotta right to be hostile!"
Introducing, the man with the flyest transparent style on the planet
"you're quite hostile..."
"i gotta right to be hostile!"
Straight from l.o.d., kirkland ave
"you're quite hostile..."
The one and only philly blunt king
"i gotta right to be hostile!"
"you're quite hostile..."
"i gotta right to be hostile!"

[keith murray]
Keith murray's, comin from the north south east and left
Rhymin to death, makin a world when i take a deep breath
With a body boom bash, my paragraph a trey-deuce
Human behavior in a psychopath
Ooooh, i might lose my cool, and break fool
And pull out my get busy tools
I write like a mad journalist
To funk, that's deeper than a bottomless spliff (that's my word)
The most beautifullest thing in this world
Is my notion, for murderous poetry in motion
And the illiotic shit i come across
Form a leash you're trapped in with explosive force
I push your head through the cracks of sanity
And leave your brain doin a bid in purgatory
It's ninety-six degrees in the shade
Before i catch blood on my blade
I take my frustration to the stage
And gets open dope and stupid bumblin rumblin tracks
When i rap my jams be packed like a laundromat
My context'll wreck your whole concept
Cause my delivery is so complex
And i'm inter-galactic on plastic
With the superdistinguish that i kick
I'm high strung at the top of my lung
With my tongue makin hardcore niggaz wanna get dumb
My dialogue comes straight from the slums
Damnage to your medula, cerebrum and cerebellum
If ya got a crew ya better tell em

[jeff stewart]
("hostile" sample set repeats in background)
Ladies and gentlemen, what you've just witnessed
Is the incredible skills of erick sermon.. and keith murray
Coming to an album near you soon
This has been another erick sermon production
This is jeff stewart signing off, and until next time saying...
God damn!!!

(let's take it to the stage, sucka)

Erick sermon:
It's the e, and i'm smokin'. wild like tone loc, i'm roastin, bakin' mcs,
The e i'm not jokin' so back up, punk, slack up.
Watch your weak posse, before they get smacked up.
One by one, two by two, three by three, yo p...
[parrish: what's up, e.d.?]
Pass the uzi, to blow up, any wack mc that show up,
There goes one, blast 'im now.
[e, hold up.]
*don't make me wait-wait* because it might be too late, the punk might escape,
And buck whyle, and in fact, bite my style, and i'm-a catch a bullshit charge,
Plus trial.
It's my thing to swing, your first mistake to bring a duck mc that can't hang.
Don't forget, i'm crazy swift. my name is erick sermon
[yeah, and i'm parrish smith]
I could act foolish, start blastin'. ha ha ha ha, now who's laughin'?
I'm-a let ya slide, but ya owe me, next time you see me...
[...holler like ya know me!]
I'm mad...

Refrain:
(here's a little story, i've gots to tell) {scratching} (i'm mad!) 4x

Parrish:
My life story i tell straight from the heart.
When suckers tried to crash my shit straight from start.
A young black kid destined for success, no old gold, no cocaine, or buddha cess.
Straight up hard work. no sleep and no shorts.
Brainstormin' with the skills that pop duke taught.
To keep swingin', yeah, and not to quit.
Now i ride the benz, you ride the dick, with your punk friends,
Straight up pussy from punk city, my attitude's fucked up and real shitty.
From the backstabbers, yeah my so-called friends,
Who swim in my pool. when it's time, flex the benz,
Around town, windows down at the south town, cool j tape or k-solo "spellbound"
With fly girlies dippin, brothers grippin' and sippin'
Old gold, red bull, hands on my dick and
I'm just lampin' with my ek shades, truck-jewels, obviously the man's paid.
But of course not, brother can't get his props
Like for instance, when i cruise up the block
In my 560 lampin' on my metro phone, chrome kit beamin' all off your dome.
But like a sucka, yeah, you looked the other way
That's how i knew you're on my dick kid, but it's okay.
It's normal, relax, your whole head's busted.
Caught in the rap skit, ya couldn't be trusted.
Cuz my sounds pound from here to okinowi...{kiss} peace and i'm ouuuutie!

Refrain

Erick:
Stay tuned to this last episode, when i rock the house and the mic explodes.
This is not the buckwild style that i be usin', in fact black,
It causes {mass confusion}
It's a fallout, when sucker mcs and crowds call out my name,
Oh what a shame i got {fame!}
Parrish:
I'm not a new jack, my rhymes are not wack, and in fact,
I'm like clint eastwood, 'stead of bullets, rhymes i pack
In my flow gun, so son, ya better run,
Cuz when it comes to hostage and prisoners, we take none.
We move wax like kilos ...{scratch}
And when my jam hits the streets, the sounds explode.
Watch the right hook, duck the death blow jack,
I wonder where the e and the p's at...
[can they do it again?] you bet your ass, black.
[see you in '91] until things get the bozack... [i'm mad...]

Refrain