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2. |
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(e double)
Word em up (joe sinistr) Word em up, ha ha Got the e double, right there (e double) Jmj combined with grand.. royal.. Nineteen ninety-three, ninety-four Word em up (joe sinistr) Here we go, joe sinistr representin from the joint Verse one: erick sermon Yo yo, I pause for the cause I seen niggaz heads busted, someone pass the gauze This rhyme may affect the skull to a point And crash the membrane, so you should spark a joint *inhale* there I go and now it's showtime without Kiki shepherd, now the bitch feels neglected Check the memo, remember you listened to my demo; Yeah the one about the f**kin limo? Rewind because I'm pushed for time right now What where when how, my sound's out there like moscow I hear nuttin but the music, raw fusion No mass confusion or illusion Blink blink, blink so what you sayin? I'm not playin Hey man, yo I caught you playin So don't be conspicous, cause you can't get with this Hardcore scientifical, far from typical My rap style, is dy-no-mite It make you wanna be like the e double, and not like mike Yo, bust my acoustics, swing! Deranged, when I rock the mic I feel strange Now back to our program, f**k batman, bang bang Sound from the gat-man Let me quit it, cause I feel I have shitted And got mad niggaz widdit Joe sinistr follows So y'all get my dick, until tomorrow Chorus: joe sinistr It's the second payback, payback part ii Yeah, it's the second payback, the payback part ii Uh-huh, yeah -- it's the second payback, the payback part ii Uh-huh, yeah -- it's the second payback, payback part ii It's part ii, uhh Verse two: joe sinistr And while niggaz still arrested virgins, I rips it ill As erick sermon's, we's the ones usin the method slurrin So joe sinistr came through the armed recruit to blank crews My six will fix another one greedy Foreal, let's peel they hats back for deal slow And we'll catch clown, with they pants down real low The screwball better work a rupaul and switch fast Or we'll be in the cornfield, killin your bitch ass And timb's roam through bad bad odor but it is home Wild flex and more sex than mad cobra So take it easy ? just to mash a kraut? mine's the cheesiest And I'm sworn to keep their eyes on more than cbs I make the funk doobie turn to a process I mob just any nigga, I don't care who he I still get doughs, takin off bitches girbauds And lamp with erick, a champ merit cause I flip foes See these screws loose, I repeat, beetlejuice, beetlejuice But stop there goes the third time with the cock-a-roach And I get more flows than vic tayback So kids, here come the second big payback Chorus 1/2 Verse three: erick sermon, joe sinistr *tire squeeling sound* I return burnin rubber The black african brother, low key so call me undercover The funkster from the boonies I love muhammad ali, so f**k gerry cooney Oops, can't forget, under a roof from one nation *rrraow* crowd participation Shit, I'm so upset, I feel like snappin niggaz neck But i'ma chill and let joe get wreck My secret recipe put pepsi on diet's, uh-huh The funk dog as I come low to piss on hydrants And howl at half moons and white owls and mad tunes Live quite fowl, leavin lifestyles in bitches bathrooms I crack granite, and pack a mass transit it's so weird My style is more fear-ed than black planets And I f**k your shit, suck my dick for explicit I let clips at your name, pay rent in your brain And I gets wicked, wick-wick-wicked And keeps a full clip in case the bullets get evicted And now to twirl up the fat nigga, seek psychiatric I devour worlds and galactus I gets mean troop, grabbin christine around the block At sixteen, spittin the green pea soup And cock nines, when niggaz got slime, the only men Puffin nick nick nick's- with -elodeon It's joe no diss cause the funk mist flow Make a mess like aunt tess when she leaped off the sixth flo' So straighten it out if your knock-kneed 'fore they draw chalk around the body |
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3. |
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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. |
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4. |
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(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 |
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5. |
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[Sermon doing a high-pitched voice]
Erick Sermon is coming up... I see him! I see him! [Erick Sermon] Word up |
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6. |
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(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. |
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7. |
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sex
have some sex safe sex word 'em up okay, it's time for some action a little passion, some booty waxin' for the bozac, make sure he's strapped and if baby got back, then yo, we with that call up a few people on the phone yo we're havin' a party, at my private home some bring some chronic, plus some brew call up your girl and invite her too come active and bring purple lactives 'cause we're gonna get more busy than gymnastics and do the humpty hump all night so when you come with the boy, make sure you're right it's nine o'clock, party starts at ten so enough for now, I'll talk to you then later, huh, I'll see you when you get here and make it quick, ah yeah time for some safe sex (Chorus) safe sex safe sex safe sex we all need (safe sex) ding dong, there goes the bell I opened up the door and oh, what the hell it was a buncha niggas standin' by my door I said come in, but respect my floor that means take off your shoes and englands 'cause I'm a gentleman, some say distinguished all of y'all put your things up in the kitchen and the rest of y'all sit down and listen be free and relax in what you're wearin' let's all be happy like Bobby McFerrin and get loose and produce the funky juice and let's swing this shit like they swing a forty deuce they want some reggae, like some flex time to have sex and it's all night, so turn off the light and let's get high as a kite and have safe sex (Chorus) somebody say sex (sex) say safe sex (safe sex) I love it (I love it) I need it (I need it) but for real, when you're havin' sex no matter what type, make sure you wear the latex to all of the cons out there sexin' stop and look, boy, you're stressed out protection cause aids is real and something to beleive or not make-beleive and fake like hair weave a death wish like Charles Bronson and if you don't beleive me then ask Magic Johnson about the sex (Chorus) |
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9. |
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10. |
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(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 |
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11. |
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{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 |
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12. |
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(Erick Sermon)
Hey young world, one two, one two Check it out y'all Uhh, Shadz of Lingo in the house E Double's in the house with Def Squad on the funky fresh track with Shadz of Lingo Mic check one two, yo you got my nerves jumpin around and Humpin' Around like Bobby Brown across town I ain't with that, so don't cramp my style Step off me, I'm hyped like I had a pound of coffee Yo how could you ask what I'm doin when I'm pursuin, gettin funky with my crew and My input brings vibes unknown like E.T. Makes me phone home to my family Cling, hello mom, I'm doin it, freakin more fame than Batman played by Michael Keaton I crossed over, let me name someone that's black with fame, and pockets that are fat Heyyy, Erick Sermon, he's one Packs a gun, that's bigger than Malcolm's Out the window, I look for a punk to get stupid so I can shoot his ass like Cupid E 2 bingos, down with the Shadz of Lingo Here to bust out the funky single Ahh shit, there goes my pager I'll see you later, because yo Chorus: Erick Sermon Every now and then, I get a little crazy (4X) (Shadz of Lingo - 1) One two how can I do it? I guess I'll spit the real Yo I pack much dick, with the cover made of steel hoe Yes yes, never fessed or settled for less One clown stepped, and got a hole in the fuckin chest from the A.K., somebody scream MAYDAY Took the sucker out, cause he clowned me on a payday The funk is flowin to the maximum from the E Double, while I kick the facts to them Check a chill brother with class, rough enough to run up and snatch the spine out a niggaz ass Grip the steel when caps peeled, here to chill on the real and don't give a motherfuck how you feel Thinkin you're steppin to this, I kinda doubt it Ain't with the bullshit, so you can write a fuckin book about it The big nigga with the bud and I'm on that E kick the beat and yo you shoulda known that Chorus (Shadz of Lingo - 2) Yo it's the Lingo of the Shadz Droppin that mellow but mad mackadocious melodious metaphorical music with mo' shit that you used to, and stylin that you ain't What else I got to do but draw the pictures with paints? {*feedback*} Oh no, there's my mic squeakin A soundman's body turnin up every weekend Some think I done the killin, you know I can't remember I can't recall a full week since this past December And mics catchin fire 'fore I get the chance to touch em Yo Al. B catch the buddha lightin torches, I'ma bust em But don't rush em, leave the pyromaniac alone he heard the words to hit em on the red dot and knows I'm thinkin bout MURDER Run {run} hide {hide} you can't {can't} escape {scape} The hit {the hit's} on, I got the {got the} papes {papes} Dodge {dodge} red {red} lasers {lasers} scannin {scannin} brings {brings} fly {fly when} rhymes {rhymes} landin {landin} Let me go .. no .. yo, I'm straight {straight} Chill {chill}, yo I need AUHHHH, air, wait {wait} Cross {cross} fade {fade's} a killer {killer} style and {style and} where's the {where's the} soundman Tell me {tell me} was I whylin {whylin} cause {cause} Chorus (Erick Sermon) Hey young world Check me out, check me, check me out Hey young world New York's in the house Def Squad's in the motherfuckin, house New York's in the motherfuckin, house Rowdy Records in the motherfuckin, house Def Squad's in the motherfuckin, house E.D.'s in the motherfuckin house (Def Jam boy) Shadz of Lingo in the motherfuckin house Peace.. and we out (Russell Simmons boy) Word |
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13. |
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14. |
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"Kick it over here baby pop!"
Chorus: Murray, Sermon, others [KM] |
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15. |
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16. |
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(erick sermon)
Oh.. yeahhuhh! Def squad Chorus: erick sermon It's all in the mind.. (pump pump, lickin shots!) *7x* (pump pump, lickin shots) (erick sermon) Aiyyo it's the master rap maniac, comin fat like dat That's my habitat, with the funk track From the boondocks, when I rocks my styles out the docks Who who? I hear someone knockin at my door It must be soup, a black human bein I think it's about time for y'all to see him (soup) Sometimes I get blindsided with the flow, I never know They yell hoe, assumin the motions of a cool flow Notions of a cool, it's the s, ohhhhhh Never come test, noooooooo, cause even the best'll have to Go out with the rest, nestea and a bag of sess for me Ackninckulous, I kill the weeds in my chest (erick sermon) Back on the rebound, it's the magnificents funkdullah Old schooler, more sole/soul than dr. scholl-ah Freakin wicked so it sticks in your dome On the chrome microphone so I take it home Don't neglect, just respect, the mic check Don't forget, I still snap necks and come correct I leave the microphone burnin (burnin) Green eyed bandit, my ? full name is erick sermon (soup) Erick sermon, sermon with the preaching I'm f**kin up people's heads without speaking, without speaking Clearly, loudly, niggaz crowd around the speaker To hear me freak the, note like tamika But sweeter, sixty phoneta, sneaker if you Peep the, jams and you reap the fields With the roots and uh, my name is soup, and uh I flow like orange juice or tropicana, and uh Chorus (erick sermon) Breaker breaker, shh, I hear some static Stop and get my automatic, the rusty one from the attic And shoot, or be killed, and if I ill I might cause A bloodspill so I have to chill and get Totally disgusting on the microphone Whyyyyyyyyy, because it's onnnnn (it's on, it's on) It's on (it's on, it's on, it's on, it's on!!) (soup) The industry is a trick, and everyone is on the dick A cheap trick, just like ? like ? I peep it, everyone, wants me to sound like A ? , I'm dyin, before I get up from behind It's crushin up the rush of the rhyme in my mind Drink and trust - blind, think and trust - my, nine Because, nine lives nine triggers Fine rhymes equal the nine figures Yeah the cold cash, I hold a bold stash Yeah pockets next to my nineteen year old ass Yeah, God bless the child with his own God bless the roots and outsiders who zone Motherf**kers caps, get bucked in the dome Lick a shot, in his mad packed crazy chrome Chorus (+ soup shouting over) (soup) Like that, but it's all words Words can kill more pens, than guns, and friends And foes, God knows, I chose the pros That rose, still froze-n, chose-n, you S-o-u and the p, e, r-i-c-k Erick sermon, kickin a rhyme this way Yeah! it's all in, your mind It's all in, my mind It's all in, my mind.. |
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17. |
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Peace to hoes..
Jeff Stewart's in the motherfuckin house Peace to Cool V Peace to D Mac, T Smooth, Todd Lightland |