[Erick Sermon] You know my style, you know my steelo (8X)
Verse One: Erick Sermon
I bring the ruckus for you brothers I jam like Smuckers Don't udder because my style is buttah The roughneck, green-eyed, funkdafied For those girls who cry my style's worldwide (word em up) I get Just-Ice, whenever I Bust This Even P.E. Can Trust This I Hollywood swing my shit to the basement Leavin niggaz stunned like how OJ's case went (yeah) The grand imperial, with mad material Before you jump, into my flow yell GERONIM-OH My God, I rock toward the right Then I Set it Off, on the left just for spite The E Double bring the brofunkadelcreeptic hahahHAHAHA Ahahahaha My style's incognito I'm sharper than a razor blade dressed up in a black tuxedo Word to Reggie Noble, and the Shaq Forget Schwarzennegger, I'll be back You know my steelo
[Erick Sermon] You know my style, you know my steelo (4X)
Verse Two: Redman
Coming straight from the sluggish part, of Newark, some niggaz Start My styles act wild like Jurassic Park after dark Tyranosaurus Rex blows the discotheque I pose the threat, like an Arabian, blowin up your stadiums My milky styles flows Canals like Panama So get your camera, SNAP, swing back like Reggie Jax Hoooaaa, HAH, nigga look up in the sky It's a bird, fuck, I took the frame, that's my word I put the Crypt Keeper in a sleeper, eureka here's the feature
got amnesia that I'm the ultimate funk Pop the trunk, ALLRIGHTY THEN My friend, bust the maneveur How I Ace niggaz like Ventura My style's water like Evian, that's why you Wonder like Stevie and how I get wreck with Erick Sermon and Shaq-Diesel and, I'm comin down with the funk Punks, that's how we go, you know my style You know my steelo
[Erick Sermon] You know my style, you know my steelo (4X)
Verse Three: Shaquille O'Neal
Tall TWISM, afro-centric Asian, half-man half-amazin My skill be blazin, six million ways in to die Grab this mic like Pryor Burn baby burn baby burn, like Andre Rison house on fire Follow me forth, follow me back Shaq's Illegal, watch me Get Busy on this track Yo I Gets Busy, packs more Speed than K. Reeves You best believe, my loot's stacked up like a RuPaul weave Punks jump up to get plastered Respect to Wu-Tang and that OL DIRTY BASTARD A lot of hoopers, tryin to play ball TIM-BER!! They're all gonna fall 'cause The world is mine, all mine Quick to treat between the line even Ray Charles ain't that Blind Pass me a Pepsi, forget that freakish Snapple MC talkin head then I will smash him with the alley apple Erick Sermon, Redman, Shaq Three macks, you look for somethin wack you get smacked Boom-pow-ping, da-ping-pat Shaq, is back in effect, so how's that
[Erick Sermon] You know my style, you know my steelo (8X)
The Surgeon General of Chilltown, New York Has determined, that the sounds you're about to hear can be devestating, to your ear..
<i>[Erick Sermon]</i> Yeah, uh-huh, huh, Long Island Queens.. Brooklyn, Bronx, Manhattan Staten.. Y.O., uhh
Yo, E-Dub, I come from the gutter The Ving Rhames of rap, it's guns or butter I make things happen, rappin The game don't wanna act right, we kidnap it (Get on the floor!) Rob it like Napster There's gonna be slow-singin and flower bringin so call the pastor The Roger Moore of the rap game He's 007, I'm E-Double the veteran, the name (Erick!) The way I do it is Mean Joe Green Eyed Bandit, nigga check the pamphlet On my CD, you won't hear the same It's two special guests, and the rest is my name You won't hear the bling, or the champagne - nuttin You won't hear a nigga on the microphone frontin And no love songs, I'm not serenadin I'm just narratin the streets on my beats I'm a New York nigga, and Strawberry's home That's a New York nigga, and it gets no bigger Go figure; ch-ch-check out, check out, check out "My Melody" Bittin niggaz' style that's a Jayo Felony I'm a rap pioneer what you tellin me? This ain't hot in the street, so what you sellin me? That's a bootleg rap, shake dance Duke You a fluke, got proof and that's that
<i>[Chorus: Erick Sermon]</i> Brooklyn, Bronx, Queens, Manhattan (uh-huh) Chilltown, my nigga what's happenin? "Chilltown, New York" (chill.. chill.. chill..) It was all good just a week ago Suffolk, Nausau, Yonkers, Staten Chilltown, my nigga what's happenin? "Chilltown, New York" (chill.. chill.. chill..)
<i>[Erick Sermon]</i> Yeah, why didn't you make your own music? You thought Down South records'd do it - nope! You're you, and that's them Look in the mirror, that's you, and that's them - find yourself If 'Pac came back he'd be a mad muh'fucker Now all y'all proceeds should be goin to his mother {?} get your money, your career was cute But y'all hoes will soon be exposed, open the doors The Don King of the rap ring, I bring the mic Promote the hype, be in Vegas that night, let's fight! Ding, there's nuttin more to it I'm takin back the city and that key you got to it - yep I'm the first one to bounce Down South A-T-L in ninety-two, I took that route - uh-huh Real recognize real Def Squad regime, the rap supreme, that's my team, yeah
Uh-huh Sermon, Def Squad, no time With ease That's how I do this (that's what I'm talkin 'bout) Y'all holla at me (that's what I'm talkin 'bout) Yeah (that's what I'm talkin 'bout)
<i>[Erick Sermon]</i> Huh, I do it like this fo' sheez Keep it so real for the O.G.'s Black truck outside that's E's And it sits on twenty-threes (tell 'em) Yeah rhymin, does this with ease Makin beats is my expertise He can't do it again, best believe I pull a rabbit out my hat and my sleeve Now, take my picture, cheese I'm hot like Craig Mack, "One thousand degrees" My face shown on mad TV's When I come fans warm and transform like bees Hmmm, been rappin before CD's I'm so cold, everything around freeze (brr!) Go ahead, talk about me please You can stop me here, but I'm big overseas
<i>[Chorus: Erick Sermon]</i> This here's something so ill Something for the ear so chill Ill this cause this so real I rock spots from 12 until Dig it - I flow this (with ease) Dub - I shows this (with ease) Kid - I rock this (with ease) Yeah - I does this (with ease)
<i>[Erick Sermon]</i> Here's somethin that's rarely seen Me so dark, eyes so green I'm so fresh so clean Three-wheel motion, car on lean In D.C., parked outside Dream In A-T-L, parked outside Cream Stepped back and checked the scene Dirty girls up in here, but not Justine This here flow's in my genes Pockets, dough in my jeans Some jewelry, watch might gleam Love hate range, Video Raheem Call me, get my machine Unknown phone calls get screened This here ends bar 16 Yo Erick's on fire man, knahmean?
<i>[Chorus: w/ minor variations]</i>
<i>[Erick Sermon]</i> Yo, I make it easy for you so come on (Erick Sermon in the house) I do it easy for you so come on (Erick Sermon in the house) I rock it easy for you so come on (Erick Sermon in the house) I flow it easy for you so come on (Erick Sermon in the house)
[Erick Sermon] Yeah, all day yeah, uh Turn me up, uh-huh...it's serious Headphones turn me up {Recordings indistinct)
This is somethin that you need to hear It's cool and capture I feel like Blondie caught in the rapture Rappers and those who try to offend me From false accusations they had heard from Wendy (Hello Erick) I'm in the game to play For those cats on the sideline callin me gay, huntin Don't be the broads cause niggaz Mad cause I'm baggin chicks that look as bad as Jigga's (tell 'em) And make seven figures, a rap icon I'm the one kid in the biz to keep your eyes on Me, Superman, I fell from the window If I fly high, then why drive a benzo In drive a 'lac, in drive a hummer In drive is something brand-new this summer (tell 'em) The operator, I got your number Don't act like I don't flow like water, call the plumber (uh-huh) Something tryna stop the E from gettin large I feel like the Beastie Boys in Sabotage In all five boroughs, I pissed on trees I'm a dog (arroo), ask Rockwilder please There's some fake cats, they talk behind me A few A&R's sayin they won't sign me (uh-huh) Cause they see my face and think I'm done Meanwhile, I'm the black Neo, yes the one (one) While they sign they brother or friend or they man That's supposed to blow, he's a no-show And that's why the game is shutdown Every major player that's in it, been changed around (tell 'em) But I'm still standin and got something to say The boy is still here like LL and Dre I sat down with Russell and Def Jam team I sat down with Suge and Jimmy Ivine I sat down with Sylvia, sat down with Tommy Sat down with Clive Davis and no favors I got booked at dark And this might be my last huh-rah I'ma rock now until tomorrow Some ask about EPMD's prognosis But it won't happen til P get focused I won't be compared to Nas or Jada But I'ma punish the game for it's foul behavior And y'all got it backwards Those ain't real MC's, those is actors Cast of Fear Factor (tell 'em) I agree with Missy No creativity in the game no more It's the same old bore A few people in the biz know what's happenin The fans don't know, they think I'm platinum Cause they hear the record gettin played 4,000 times on every station But at the same time hate...disc jockeys If I'm over, explain how I do it In 2001 I shut it down with "Music" (hmmm) If I'm whack, why in 2002, yes it's true, I made cats react (uh-huh) Source might not quote this here It might not be nothin but I wrote this here Like Eminem said, you want to be Erick Sermon (that's the truth) But you a generic version (let's go) Aight y'all, enough talk Welcome to Chilltown, New York
[Nas sample - repeat 2X] This ain't rappin, this is street hop Now get up off yo' (ass) like yo' seats hot
[Erick Sermon] Yeah, Redman uh, E. Sermon, Tre
[Verse One: Redman] Yeah, yo I'm Doc, Brick City, know how I rock I'm hip-hop, I live up in the rim shop I blow out my tires then I buy some mo' My car's Ying Yang'n the way it sit LOWW A little Anita, a little Vandross I got two guns to give you secondhand smoke I'm no joke, this ain't Hanna Barbera It's the Bricks, Mandela on Anteras In my rear mirror, a freak approach Knew she wasn't first class cause her bag was Coach She was like, "Redman! Buy me boots." So I, bought her Timbs, and a army suit Nobody want it with Doc, you smell me Duke? Front page, smokin L's in The Daily News why'all cats big time, but the tops are turned When you in the same realm as, Doc and Serm', yeahhh
[Chorus: repeat 2X] "This ain't rappin, this is street hop Now get up off yo' (ass) like yo' seats hot" (And if the record is hot say one two) one two (one two)
[Verse Two: Erick Sermon] Yeah, yeah, yo, uhh E-Dub in the flesh, no replacement I still bring trunk funk from the basement (who are you?) Peeeimp MC, my style's mackadocious Boy, ask her-on who the dopest E - steppin to me, better-a think twice I'm nice, the outcome be "The Passion of Christ" You get ripped, you ain't equipped to rock with the vandal (Yeah) I change your Timberlands to sandals Thug MC's, thinkin they hard When they walk around the block with 6 bodyguards Yo, I'm a big dawg (grrr) you a pup (arf!) It's like comparin a car to a truck What, you spend dough for airplay when you network That ain't fair, that ain't the way the street work This is street hop, nuttin about pride For you, I'ma keep them ambulances outside, you dig?
[Chorus] [Erick Sermon] All them rappers that can't rhyme (can't rhyme) What is you doin is a crime Sayin that garbage all the time {*chk-chk-BOOM*} Word up, yeah
[Verse Three: Tre] That's how I'm livin, still a gangsta, still a pimpin mack All around hustler, 9 to 5 flippin crack Tryin to stay up out of prison, steady spittin raps Not to mention spittin scraps, don't mix your puddy-tat with that {*meowww*} Dhark Citi, put it on your map Don't ride through without your pistol, put it on your lap And I don't look for beef but don't think that I won't attack Have you in a coffin momma like, "He don't belong in that" You shoulda thought of that before the fact Why a (nigga) roll the dice, lose all they money, then they want it back? But that's a bunch of crap... .. but f'real jyo, don't gamble witcha life, cause ain't no comin back
<i>[sample:]</i> I don't care! <i>[Sermon:]</i> Sermon.. <i>[TKweli:]</i> Ayo! <i>[Sermon:]</i> Talib Kweli, uh <i>[TKweli:]</i> Come on! <i>[Sermon:]</i> Whip <i>[TKweli:]</i> Jea! <i>[Sermon:]</i> Def Squad, uh, yeah, Brooklyn, Long Island, uh-huh, Red Hook what <i>[TKweli:]</i> Jea! <i>[Sermon:]</i> Hah, Chilltown.. <i>[TKweli:]</i> Let's go! <i>[sample:]</i> Once again, back is the incredible!
<i>[Erick Sermon]</i> Yup, the rhyme animal, a different sample though I change the flow so it go with the music Yes, I'm doing this for y'all amusement This here's serious, look your reaction Kid, you ain't never seen Dubs in action, no A veteran, I flow like I'm young, what Yup, he sold more records, but son sucked! Call me washed up, yeah, talk about me I sound like me, you sound like Jay-Z Duke, speak breezy, I come and touch you Kid, I ain't never scared homey, I bone crush you Watch E do his thing if this don't work come back like boomerang Testing, microphones are o-o-on <i>[car horn]</i> I'm g-g-gone
New York, stand up! (I don't care!)
<i>[Sermon's hook]</i> Yeah, I'm on the block, man (chillin!) I'm parked by the Rucker park, I'm just (chillin!) Underground love my spot, I'm just (chillin!) I'm in the big truck so (I don't care!) Hah, I'm in the crib, man (chillin!) With Whip and my nigga Talib, we just (chillin!) It's like that, you know how it is, we just (chillin!) And I get the paper so (I don't care!)
<i>[Whip Montez]</i> MC, and ma, people call me Whip I'm just (chillin) all alone, no one to be with, man I took long, but I'm finally here The most anticipated chick of the year, cheaugh I came to flip and reverse game every dude I touch get whipped lie my first name, and Although I'm prissy, don't get it confused I don't need to mess with you, I got plenty of dudes Got the caramel skin, on the parallel twin Heads keep turning like a carosel spins I know for a fact, these women are sick Cause these hos can't mess with this Dominican chick Got the flag on my arm, it proves I am the bomb All I do is speak Spanish and it works like a charm I been ready, cause I payed my dues Yo, this goes out to my Brooklyn crew
Yo (I don't care)
<i>[Whip's hook]</i> You might catch me on the train, OK, I'm just (chillin!) I ain't too big for the game, I'm just (chillin!) I got the whole Red Hook with me (chillin!) Roll through if you want, cause (I don't care!) Yo, Def Squad got the girl, and now I'm just (chillin!) I'm on the block, real tough, just (chillin!) Y'all non-rapping chicks can keep (chillin!) Talk if you want, cause (I don't care!)
<i>[Talib Kweli]</i> Ayo, E is chillin! Kwe is chillin! Whip in the house, Brooklyn in the building Blood on the dance floor, sweat on the ceiling When you get that feeling that gun concealing is a hobby Nobody stealing shows like Kweli Working on a new project while you chillin in the lobby Keep it thorough, ain't real, guns don't kill People kill people, but the Sun don't chill But still, I stand cooler than a Minnesota winter Nigga, hotter than the blocks where guns bust over dinners Plus, all the sinners got dreams they running after Working a 9 to 5 now is like you hustling backwards That's why all these young girls in love with the rappers Basketball players, and up-and-coming actors Swimming with the sharks, and flirting with disaster When the things you own start owning you, they your master
Yeah! (I don't care)
<i>[Kweli's hook]</i> I got the yak in the back of the club, I'm just (chillin!) With Whip and my nigga E Dub, we just (chillin!) Nobody give a fuck about you, we (chillin!) But I smack the shit out you, like (I don't care!) So if you really want to know how it is, I'm just (chillin!) Like audio, <i>[?]</i>tune milk<i>[?]</i> and kids, we (chillin!) Material things that we shit, I'm just (chillin!) You brag what you got, but (I don't care!)
Like Me featuring Khari Santiago,Sy Scott작곡:Erick Sermon,K. Santiago,S. Scott,T. Shaw
<i>[Sy Scott]</i> You can't rap like me Uhh, Sy Scott, Def Squad (yeah) Listen, ain't playin no games man Yeah, whattup
Give or receive, and give or take, I'm an Indian giver I take back what's given to the getter from the giver Nigga give way, give up, you never get a glimpse of the Glimmer Man, glimmer glitter when I trek your body shiver Rhythm I'm rippin whatever I can get a grip of Just to get a giggle, this literature's ishkabibble And damn, dun-duh dun-duh dun-duh, the shark is in the weater Dun-duh dun-duh dun-duh got him right where I want him Now I'ma get him, Scott crack legbones like a wishbone Snap your nosebone witcha chinbone Break your legs and snap your shinbone Put your skullbone jawbone right next to your gall stones 'til y'all all know I got the hypothalamus of a hippopotamus Squashin the retardapuss when {?} rush Too good to be true like fairy tales come true again You wish you was me but woke up and you was you again
<i>[Chorus]</i> Sy Scott, you can't rap like me You can't murder a rhyme or kill a track like me You can't, bust aim or hold a gat like me Flow hundred percent, you can't rap like me, nah
<i>[Erick Sermon]</i> This here's somethin stupid for the eardrum You wanna hear somethin slick son, here it come You can ask Dr. Phil, I'm ill I'ma kill you, then kill them, then "Kill Bill" Yeah - word to Vivica, I hemorrhage a pile Drop the temperature, 'til the coroner start zippin ya B-ball player, I shoot from the perimeter Two shot, three shot, all into ya On mics I does my thing Agua, I flow like Poland Spring Not from Maine, I'm from New York mayne I'm the Bandit, in the black Maybach in transit 300 pound nigga, hold weight, stop - hold, wait E-Dub the great there's no mitake, yeah The untakeable, unshakeable, you uncapable I'm Bruce Willis, I'm "Unbreakable" - uh-huh You can't replace the unplaceable You can't face off, with the unfaceable Even the matador can't face the bull I'm the raging bull, you wanna shoot, pull
<i>[Chorus]</i> E, you can't rap like me The boy with the slow flow you can't rap like me Bang bang, you can't shoot a gat like me My Squad is Def, and you can't rap like Khari
<i>[Khari]</i> I throw three like Bobby Jackson, at 'em I'm O.G. like Bobby Johnson, stomp 'em Hold G like Bumpy Jonson, on 'em Read flip and beat kids like Joe Jackson My flow jackin, clack clack, I'm sharp like the claws of Hugh Jack', with hands packin, make you an ex-man Time for some action, and matter of fact Go exercise or be ordained to explore pain And explain, why you puttin extras on In this excess I throw a hex through your headset Settle down 'fore I set it off on the set Let's say Santiago is the best you heard yet (yep) I know, my flow, oh my God, get so, heated that MC's stay away like I got heebie jeebies Ask G's if I G, hit the G spot on your queen Kings get they heart or crown ripped apart now
<i>[Chorus]</i> Yeah, you can't rap like me You snap back, get back, smack a wack MC Santiago, you ain't got the stats like me To get busy and tap dance on tracks like me
[Redman] Let me clear my throat! {*scratched: "hey hey hey"*} Kick it over here baby pop! {*scratched: "one two"*} Feel the beat... mmm DRRRRROP!
[Erick Sermon] Look, some of why'all had chance to witness Every year I appeared on top hit list I produced, half the rap world A third of R&B, no help just me (YO!)
Just me on the rhyme, just me on the beat Just me in the lab, just me in the street Most knew it, my accolades stacked high Appalachian, Mountain placin them
Top ten, I'm rap's elite, so street If you can't recite the realness, don't speak (YO!) My sound help cats through bids Half the industry rhymes on somethin I did
I target, one market Underground shit to start arguments about who's dope Hip-Hop kids, like crackheads they fiend for this, like he's a genius No I'm God sent
[Chorus 2X: Erick Sermon] Yes I'm one of God's children Erick, I'm blessed with a gift, yeah I "Walk This Way" Run-D.M.C. style and Jay, you see like trust I'm God sent
[Erick Sermon] Yeah, I'm on a 15 year spread Retire from the game when I'm dead For now I'm livin, I'ma keep givin this Boogie Down Production for Scott LaRock
Peace, to Biggie, Pun, Big L and 'Pac Freaky Tah, Eazy-E, and the rest that dropped {Redman: "DRRRRROP!"} For those who wonderin, it's no other
Five times on The Source, I graced the cover So save your opinion, you want to hear that old "You're a Customer" type flow, when I rhyme slow That was 15 years ago - if you want to hear that
then buy that tape, and hear that flow (YO!) Jah said somethin like you have to grow Can't stagnate the flow, cause you said so I walk this way, cause I've paid dues
I'm a giant, and you need platform shoes Talk to me
[Chorus]
[Erick Sermon] Okay last bomb, so I'ma let this go Been fresh since Doug and Ricky did "The Show" (YO!) And you act like E's not able You ain't said nuttin, put the cash on the table
I'm from the era of battle, LL, Moe Dee Who held the mic when you held the rattle But you frontin' like E's not happenin Like Run told me, "I'm the reason why you rappin'
Feel my spirit, so powerful that the dead can hear it I'm Raw, got the wrath of Kane Look in the mirror it's the man Not the one that Michael Jackson was searchin' It's me Erick Sermon
<i>[Erick Sermon]</i> {I'M NOT HIM} Nope, it's E don't trip Word to Cam'Ron, man my Set stay Dipped We rock Nike Airs, the flyest wears, yeah We got Flavor man {"Yeahhhhhhhh BOYEEE!"} {I'M NOT HIM} I'm the Music Man Who gave Marvin Gaye's wife two hundred grand Man, ask Quincy, I'm that dude So please don't get me confused because {I'M NOT HIM} Boy you in trouble Guns pack a couple, a one-man SWAT team By any means, pull a Malcolm House 'em have 'em screamin Shelton, he {"Bring the noise!"} {I'M NOT HIM} Nope, I'm the Bandit That Green Eyed cat, boy from way back Who set trends, the youngest nigga in rap with a Benz Rag-top with rims, that was me stupid!
<i>[Chorus x2: Erick Sermon]</i> {I'M NOT HIM} I'm not him (It's E-Dub, it's not who you thought he was) (He's flyer than you thought he was) So I'm back to reclaim my name because
<i>[Erick Sermon]</i> {I'M NOT HIM} I'm a 15 year vet Type of rapper, 15 year stretch The one who made it happen rappin Got it crackin rappin, keep the paper stackin, yeah {I'M NOT HIM} I'm hip-hop elite The one who signed Redman, the one who signed Keith The one who made the beat that locked down the corner Hardcore, that's my persona, geah {I'M NOT HIM} Nope, I'm the E The other half of the group of EPMD And my track record so mean This here underground bounce so hood, fuck mainstream {I'M NOT HIM} You can't get with me I rock spots and leave a TLC "Unpretty" And now it's "Ugly," Bubba Sparxxx scene Real dirty and grimy with the Squad behind me
<i>[Chorus]</i>
<i>[Erick Sermon]</i> {I'M NOT HIM} Nope, I'm the master I'm the man's man, the rapper's favorite rapper The ultimate, none get close to it I'm Erick, I'm the one you supposed to pick {I'M NOT HIM} I keep it gutter on tracks "Regulate" like Doc Dre's brother I'm Warren in rap, I drop bombs to-day You lay like U-day and Qu-say, yeah {I'M NOT HIM} The MC Grand Royal on the microphone, and New York's my home Long Island zone, where I roam like phones in Buffalo, geah - you know! {I'M NOT HIM} Go 'head, talk about me I don't care since my label dropped me And I returned like Makaveli In a new stretch Caddy, watchin "Belly" I'm not him
<i>[Chorus]</i>
(It's E-Dub) (It's E-Dub, he's not who you thought he was) {I'M NOT HIM} (It's E-Dub) (It's E-Dub, he's not who you thought he was) {I'M NOT HIM}
<i>[Verse 1: Erick Sermon]</i> Aiyyo everybody hands up Run yo' bling bling, nigga boy stand up It's E-Dub, whassup? Yeah I'm bouncin, large amounts of cash we countin That stand tall like mountains To bring the drama, it takes a second man (that's it) One wrong move, "Bring the Pain" like Method Man It's your boy Damnit, it's the Bandit, new Hummer in transit Twenty-seven inches come standard (YO!) This my people, whether drivin the Benz, the Pinto Or the Regal, the Range Rover, the Beatle (uh) I'm in New York now but I represent the SWATS of A-Town When I touch down amid grounds Me and L-Dub and Redman, that's it mo'fuckah You heard what I said man, that's real (what the deal) It's E-Dub, pronounce it right Eyes green like Kryptonite, so good night!
<i>[Chorus:]</i> What y'all want? Y'all want this? We give it to ya, we future thugs We up in yo' crib like, we up in yo' club like We up in yo' hood like, we future thugs
<i>[Verse 2: 11/29]</i> Where niggaz be thinkin the, Cadillac's on 23's Bitch bring with the DVD's, old school bucket seats South Memphis to College P, Decatur to N.Y.C. Top droppin that Benz 'til it, came with the leather seat Back up off my whip or I jump out and cause a tragedy St. Louis to Florida, from N.Y. to Tennessee Them boys ride 20's, them niggaz from the hay Them boys flickin Bentleys, Benz, Lex and Escalades Them boys ride clean, twist and turnin in yo' face With that chameleon paint, fresh as {? } I pull up in a fo'-fo'-two with E-Dub With a convertible top on the Chevy, we like what Def Squad in this piece, you want it we give it to ya You don't want no trouble with me, I might do ya And tear the club up with E-Dub and that nigga <i>[bang]</i> Better respect my gangsta I stay with two Rugers
<i>[Chorus]</i>
<i>[Verse 3: Redman]</i> Yo, I ain't a thug but I do thug things nigga so hold me down Forty round, caliber spitter, that's how the shorty crown Run with gordy hounds for 40 miles then ignore me now Duck +Motowns+ than Barry Gordy found, sorry clown! Super future thug, 12 shoe shoot you through the rug James Bond, watch on my arm, tellin me who to truck My God's my gun, don't need him since cerebreal cock Beat him size ammo three to five mammal we the Gods That'll shit on your turf, that'll get in your skirt I heard Alicia, so my dick give what a woman is worth I make them niggaz blow... then hide 'em inside 'em My noggin is strange when them dogs is ridin Cause I'm a, cheap fucker, street usher, eat supper with Pack of wolves that act a fool, blood on they upper lip Need a nigga, I'm that nigga to call, nigga to draw Chainsaws to the brawl, cuttin ya ligaments off
Then, there are the times in my life When I feel, trapped Feel there's, no way out No escape To be honest, I don't know where my life is goin Where I'll end up at I just don't know
I looked back and saw the cat focus, took notice Stayed away from the bogus, til his rise began Phillies stacked his grand played the brokest til he seemed hopeless, soon to be the dopest, cat comin Track stunnin, fame singin, his name ringin Money starts to pile, honeys start to wild Top notch drop top make everything he drop hot He dream, visualize, plot and scheme Got the cream legally without the beam Witcha fire eye drive slow, 8-5-0 Jet black tint still, they might know Who the cat controllin the strings of rap and R&B Trapped inside of a movie starrin me, so far
Do you know where you're goin to? Do you like the things that life is showing you? Where are you going to? Do you know?
Do you know where you're goin to? Do you like the things that life is showing you? Where are you going to? Do you know?
Shorty was brimmin, singin, hangin with cats who move bricks Heard she do backflips, for niggaz who stack chips Suck for dough, now she fuck for Bills up in Buffalo Real G's makin her back swell Only givin head to those niggaz who rapped well Owned a black cell, flip it, sippin on Whitman cool mints Rumors spread, half a G she took, six or more Two bagged up, four went raw Back of my mind countin up the big score Violators from the door, she lookin up from the floor Sore from all the pain her body couldn't ignore So far from pure, rotten to the core Either or, for sure, trapped inside the world of a whore
Do you know where you're goin to? Do you like the things that life is showing you? Where are you going to? Do you know?
Hard to cope with, all these niggaz and dope whips with cash flow, motherfuckers that gotta flash gold to bag hoes, they not nice, 600 circle the block twice In they Roleys they rock ice, to get they hit on Bitches dyin to get on, suck a dick or get shit on Don't understand they playin wit it Players get these bitches open and let they man hit it Fuck that, you can trust that, if I had a gun I'd release slugs black and bust back See how these players love that, to the point where I can't take it, I'm a playa hater, I can't fake it I wanna spill myself, to feel the thrill myself And since I can't be a player, wanna kill myself, trust
Do you know where you're goin to? Do you like the things that life is showing you? Where are you going to? Do you know?
I been on this road for a long time now At time it seems like the road is never gonna end On this road there's a lotta, hills and mountains Peaks and valleys Even a lot of potholes on this road It's never smooth, on the road of life I don't know where I'm going I just know where I wanna end up at
Do you know where you're goin to? Do you like the things that life is showing you? Where are you going to? Do you know?
Lord can you help me get there? Please let me get there
Do you know where you're goin to? Do you like the things that life is showing you? Where are you going to? Do you know?
Hit it hard Yeah, yeah, when I stick it she be like (uh) Yeah, pimpin, I run up right inside 'em, yeah
[Verse One: Sy Scott] Yo, it goes hey you, guess what, guess who gets what I snatch baguettes, you get what you get, guess what Guess what, you get it and forget it like guess what Guess what get done to special guests that can't guess what He goin on when Sy be goin off In the cross my Squad run tracks like motocross I write words I read and then re-word 'em Same word, rework 'em without re-wordin 'em Word perfect for workin with 'em Workmen do homework, men at work in the network workin system Yeah, I overwork, work the middle Work and turn your homework workbook against you In the range of a roundabout ratio I merry-go-round around around the radio Around around and away we go Everytime Sy bust down then it's up up away you go
[Chorus: Keith Murray] Now what do you niggaz think about this A jam for the streets that you can't resist So hustle to this, bang to this Get your money to this, yeah listen to this Now what do you bitches think about this A jam for the clubs that you can't resist So shake to this, freak to this Drink up to this, yeah listen to this
[Verse Two: Erick Sermon] Uhh, huh E-Dub, I'm known like the Rucker Fucker, comin through like a redneck trucker Nother, man down, call 9-1-1 I stash that so they can't find my gun I'm in the woods like hikers, bikers, campers Antlers, bears snakes and long-leg tarantulas Uh, E-Dub I got balls If I get chased pon' de river like Sean Paul, believe it I'm on the fish neck, like jet-skis I killed Romeo, along with Jet Li And messin with the E be incomparable Get romped like Romper Room, a one man platoon Oh I say, I'm Andrew Dice Clay Filthy mouth and also fuck why'all You want to get physical we touch why'all Haters we appreciate the love so - thank you very much why'all
[Chorus] [Verse Three: Keith Murray] Last but not least, Keith wreck shop comfortably When I flow, I fuck up your street credibility Def Squad get busy often When it comes to chicks we got more tricks than a dolphin You see the new E-Dub spin when I pull up Ecko sweatsuit with the hood up This shit is so hot you could cook an egg on it So I sunny-side up, buttered toast my opponents I take the drama to the middle of the street Or any nigga that's feelin himself like Tweet Kid you sonned out, let me speak to your father Matter of fact, hold these here, and don't even bother We come through with the nines poppin Niggaz get so quiet, you can hear rats pissin on cotton So you see there's nothin furthermore to say Aiyyo Busta, "Pass the Courvoiser"
Yo, this what hip-hop is comin to? You can say whatever on the mic and when? Let me see if you can hear me now when I'm doin this
Uh-huh, uh-huh, yeah, E. Sermon and ("Kurtis Blow!") Can you hear me now? Good Can you hear me now? Good ("Turn it up!") Don't take this serious ("One, two, three four hit it!")
<i>[Erick Sermon]</i> Yo check one two, mic's on I'm well known like the Osbournes Me - I love Kelly See us both in the bed man, touchin bellies This here "Pimp Juice," I got from Nelly I got "Punk'd," show it on the telly, damn My eyes green like Yoda, get cream like soda Two thousand ("FOUR") means a brand new motor Phoenix, capitol of Arizona But that means nuttin, I'm just sayin somethin Spare the moment them niggaz is suspect I took a line from Keith Murray off his first cassette I never took my dog to the vet And I download songs off the net But you would rather hear some rapper brag Meanwhile, bombs bein dropped over Baghdad
<i>[Chorus: x2]</i> Can you hear me now? Good Can you hear me now? Good ("Turn it up!") Can you hear me now? Good - Can you hear me now? Good Can you hear me now? Good
<i>[Erick Sermon]</i> Check it, yo it's Erick I'm down by law ("TWO") plus ("TWO") equals ("FOUR") I got no time to razzle and dazzle I'm in the crib with dad playin Scrabble I'm usin words like rat, cat Cheating cause I wrote down Brat And Brat's a rapper and you can't use names Oh yeah, the Lakers lost last night's game I caught me a flick I saw X-Men 2 "Where My Dawgs At?" I'm a X fan too I'm black like Kunta, my girl got the badoonka Let me introduce ya ("Hi I'm Big Sexy") And this ain't got shit to do with nuttin I'm on the microphone frontin But this here wins, so I'ma say whatever to get spins I got a Benz with rims, uh
<i>[Chorus]</i>
<i>[Erick Sermon]</i> Uh, so mean, never seen the green, knahmean? This jump off need two trampolines Rock hard jeans sag low, new Timberlands I works it like Missy and Timbaland Cuban link chain hang E emblem Chick 'round me multiplyin like Gremlins Word to my momma, I bring drama Like Osama, I'ma problem, period comma I come through with the Bizkit, Limp'n The Underground Kingz in the building, pimpin Oh no, they must be feelin me Pinch me now, this don't feel real to me Oh yeah, it's my son's communion Next month is my fan's reunion Write this down in your pad I'm thirty-("FOUR") and a half, and yeah I'm a Sagg'
