|
2:52 | ||||
from Undisputed (언디스퓨티드) by Stanley Clarke [ost] (2002) | |||||
|
3:43 | ||||
from Shaquille O'Neal - Shaq Fu-Da : Return (1994)
[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) |
|||||
|
3:28 | ||||
from Erick Sermon - Chilltown New York (2004)
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 <i>[Chorus]</i> |
|||||
|
3:13 | ||||
from Erick Sermon - Chilltown New York (2004)
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) <i>[Chorus: w/ variations]</i> <i>[Erick Sermon]</i> Combustible, Erick Sermon |
|||||
|
3:20 | ||||
from Erick Sermon - Chilltown New York (2004)
[Phone ringing, recording indistinct]
[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 |
|||||
|
1:23 | ||||
from Erick Sermon - Chilltown New York (2004) | |||||
|
3:47 | ||||
from Erick Sermon - Chilltown New York (2004)
[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 [Chorus] - repeat to fade |
|||||
|
3:30 | ||||
from Erick Sermon - Chilltown New York (2004)
<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!) |
|||||
|
3:02 | ||||
from Erick Sermon - Chilltown New York (2004)
<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 |
|||||
|
0:54 | ||||
from Erick Sermon - Chilltown New York (2004) | |||||
|
3:06 | ||||
from Erick Sermon - Chilltown New York (2004)
[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 Rest in peace to Jam Master Jay |
|||||
|
3:41 | ||||
from Erick Sermon - Chilltown New York (2004)
<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} |
|||||
|
1:35 | ||||
from Erick Sermon - Chilltown New York (2004) | |||||
|
3:40 | ||||
from Erick Sermon - Chilltown New York (2004) | |||||
|
3:42 | ||||
from Erick Sermon - Chilltown New York (2004)
<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 <i>[Chorus]</i> |
|||||
|
3:52 | ||||
from Erick Sermon - Chilltown New York (2004)
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? |
|||||
|
3:32 | ||||
from Erick Sermon - Chilltown New York (2004)
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" [Chorus] |
|||||
|
0:22 | ||||
from Erick Sermon - Chilltown New York (2004) | |||||
|
3:54 | ||||
from Erick Sermon - Chilltown New York (2004)
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' <i>[Chorus]</i> <i>[Chorus: w/ ad libs to fade]</i> |
|||||
|
3:27 | ||||
from Nobody Beats The Beats - Drops From Above (2005) | |||||
|
- | ||||
from Too $hort - Pimpin' (2006) | |||||
|
- | ||||
from Biz Markie - Weekend Warrioir (2005)
Artist: Biz Markie f/ Erick Sermon
Album: Weekend Warrior Song: Not a Freak Mad Jazz Represent B 9040 Ghentown... [Biz Markie] In what? In stereo How long, until it's time to go? Baby doll It's the Biz Mar-kie, and the Def Squad! Oh see, we gotta do this again like this, check it out [Verse One: Biz Markie] You keep on knockin but you can't come in-ah My way of rhymin, cause you're a beginner You know with my flow, I bring the ill freak funker I'm so unforgettable like Archie Bunker I be catchin wreck like my name was Randy Moss And always be flossin, my funky diamonds costin My, my my repertoire Is so bizarre you go hardy har har My jingle bell-ah always Roc-A-Fella Even if I go acapella it will still be a best seller I got super sperm, eat wheat germ Never had a cameo, never had a perm I'm not Billy Dee, or R. Kelly Or, Markie Dee or B.I.G. I'm a, LITTLE somethin like Heavy D Because "girls ah girls they love me" [Chorus: Biz Markie] I'm not a freak! But I can't help my-self I'm not a freak! But I can't help my-self I'm not a freak! But I can't help my-self I'm not a frrrrrreak! But I can't help my-self [verse Two: Erick Sermon] Yeah... yo I'm that eighty-eight, 'It's My Thing' rapper You that one year scream BLING rapper Dapper than Dapper Dan, my interior's Gucci Overdosin, call me John Belushi Never liked Lucy and I beat Little Ricky Made him +Cry a River+ like his name was Britney I rock gold chains, I never wore the platinum Unless records was jewelry and it come from rappin (WOW!!) Like the Diabolical Biz I'm followin his, style - how are you kids? This here is real, Mobb Deep underground Take me to funkytown, and drive around I hop out the Hummer, the same color as the truck Fake cats lookin Biz like "Hey whassup?" I'm a vet, and never wore a green suit The only army is Def Squad, believe troop! [Chorus] [Verse Three: Biz Markie] Ah let's do it, let's do it Work your mind, put your body in-to it I rock the microphone, most definitely I got mo' rhymes than Muhammad Ali I got mo' toys than Mr. Spock I put the party people in a state of shock Listen listen listen to the Emmezah-A Rrazah-K, always makin your day Without further adieux for you and yours Luckier than a gambler throwin 3's and 4's Just like {?} pageantry That I could turn the party out, make the ladies scream With the with the whoa quick unpredictable Like Daffy Duck, I'm diss-pic-a-ble! This is the end, and I'm lettin you know "I love it party people, but I got to go" [Chorus] |
|||||
|
- | ||||
from Erick Sermon - No Pressure (2000) | |||||
|
- | ||||
from Erick Sermon - No Pressure (2000)
(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 |
|||||
|
- | ||||
from Erick Sermon - No Pressure (2000)
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. |
|||||
|
- | ||||
from Erick Sermon - No Pressure (2000)
(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 |
|||||
|
- | ||||
from Erick Sermon - No Pressure (2000)
[Sermon doing a high-pitched voice]
Erick Sermon is coming up... I see him! I see him! [Erick Sermon] Word up |
|||||
|
- | ||||
from Erick Sermon - No Pressure (2000)
(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. |
|||||
|
- | ||||
from Erick Sermon - No Pressure (2000)
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) |
|||||
|
- | ||||
from Erick Sermon - No Pressure (2000) | |||||
|
- | ||||
from Erick Sermon - No Pressure (2000) | |||||
|
- | ||||
from Erick Sermon - No Pressure (2000)
(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 |
|||||
|
- | ||||
from Erick Sermon - No Pressure (2000)
{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 |
|||||
|
- | ||||
from Erick Sermon - No Pressure (2000)
(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 |
|||||
|
- | ||||
from Erick Sermon - No Pressure (2000) | |||||
|
- | ||||
from Erick Sermon - No Pressure (2000)
"Kick it over here baby pop!"
Chorus: Murray, Sermon, others [KM] |
|||||
|
- | ||||
from Erick Sermon - No Pressure (2000) | |||||
|
- | ||||
from Erick Sermon - No Pressure (2000)
(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.. |
|||||
|
- | ||||
from Erick Sermon - No Pressure (2000)
Peace to hoes..
Jeff Stewart's in the motherfuckin house Peace to Cool V Peace to D Mac, T Smooth, Todd Lightland |
|||||
|
- | ||||
from Erick Sermon - Double Or Nothing (2001) | |||||
|
- | ||||
from Erick Sermon - Double Or Nothing (2001)
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 |
|||||
|
- | ||||
from Erick Sermon - Double Or Nothing (2001)
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. |
|||||
|
- | ||||
from Erick Sermon - Double Or Nothing (2001) | |||||
|
- | ||||
from Erick Sermon - Double Or Nothing (2001) | |||||
|
- | ||||
from Erick Sermon - Double Or Nothing (2001) | |||||
|
- | ||||
from Erick Sermon - Double Or Nothing (2001)
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. |
|||||
|
- | ||||
from Erick Sermon - Double Or Nothing (2001)
(feat. Aaron Hall)
[Keith Murray] Yeeeah yeah [Erick Sermon] Yeah yeah, word up, uh [Murray] Erick Sermon and Keith Murray [Sermon] Representing that.. [Murray] Kickin' it to the beat [Sermon] New York, word up [Murray] E! E! E! [Erick Sermon, Verse 1] Respect my views on this day and era Keep your eyes upon me, and not the sparrow of berettas I'm fly, than any bird of this earth For what it be, my style is butter like Worth I freak the beat like I'm lost in the twilight A zone with no phone, looking over parasites I pack the house like Woodstock when I rock A three day event of me dropping the illest shit From here to New Jerz, back to Brooklyn and Queens The Uptown to Bronx River, I still deliver The off the wall for y'all Rearranged cameo-type strange pumping through your veins What your mommy do, if you're not ready to die like Biggie I'ma keep jamming like Ziggy I got the arrows wiped down like Funkmaster Flex Sway and Tech, and Premier, and we in here [hook] It's on like that! And everybody's welcome! You are welcome [x4] [Verse 2] Now, it's on like that once again, it's getting hot Now it's time to blow up the spot For my niggaz out there on the block getting money Playas whose hustling, doing their thing But me, I've lounged without the stone Do it for my peeps, take it to the streets All day, everyday, I sets the mood Pile a bell of "Aye", with new attitudes I change not for the words, but for the better And be a trend-setter, and bring the best ever Yeah, teach me for the president So I can bring the vibes through your residence Double! The ghetto blast, the green eyed rapper slash producer And O.J. with the juice, uh! Y'all know me, it's the E-R-I-C-K So enjoy the day, and peace to Marvin Gaye [hook] [Verse 3] Let's groove back and forth like Aaliyah If you don't got the vibe, then I wouldn't want to be ya I threw it like a rap attack from New York to Hackensack Kiss myself and jump back, surprise like a Crackerjack The eye can bring the smiles without Chanice And make enemies call truce, or even peace [?]Funk Lord[?] fights back Again without the Force or blue sky Chewbacca, R2D2 and the crew The miracle worker, God praise him, praise him! All of them ready for the funk, you feel like you want like (blaaah!) Whatever you requested, and you suggested That I bring the pain like Method It's nothing nice, cause I'm down for whatever Me and my beretta, me and my beretta Goddammit, don't leave your dog stranded Who? Yeah, the Green Eyed Bandit [hook repeats until the end] |
|||||
|
- | ||||
from Erick Sermon - Double Or Nothing (2001) | |||||
|
- | ||||
from Erick Sermon - Double Or Nothing (2001)
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. |
|||||
|
- | ||||
from Erick Sermon - Double Or Nothing (2001)
Chorus: Neva understood how he did it, How we made this music groove your very
soul, soul >>> 2x ERICK SERMON - Yo, i land out in a rent text E-7, V-12, new benzina, 200 and 90 thou, wow, somethin your rap budget does not allow, why you laughin' i see nothin funny, pull back 2 mack 10's, now itz a big mack 20, that is tha basic's, Quick and I we run tha matrix, close your mouth dont say SHITT, roll through any barrow, that streched from here passed tha tribe barrow, they respect us dawg with thernal, don't get confused this nass is crews iz my rules, step incorrect you get abused, i bring tha ruck 2 any cats bringin drama, make em' feel good like 2-Pac's Dear Mama, it could be pitch black and i'll spot cha BOOM!!!! kickin yo door like big poppa CHORUS - Neva understood how he did it(Neva) How we made this music groove your very soul, soul (Xzibit), Neva understood how he did it (D-J Mutha Fuckin Quick) how he made this music groove your very soul, soul DJ QUICK - Hey, Tell me wha cha ya get, when ya nigga Xzibit and Quick u down wit tha E-Double (What) u get weed trouble, E make tha B bubble, Make tha bass so all u shake the break out 2 tha ground and dig em out tha B-Bubble, Partyin', Happy that you shook tha hole crib,and if ya gotta pound, E dubb I got dib's, cuz this iz how we do it here, itz ironic that, u didnt step 2 a room of purple hydro chronic that booty bitch iz sparklin, tryin 2 take u 2 a star, tryin 2 get you to recognize they know who you are, can't cha see tha red carpet, then lay it out, and if you got a fantasy erit, then play it out, we bigg figga rap niggaz, from tha gate, we been waitin on and hatin on since 88, now cross my dawgs, and cross my path, and I'ma wet cha, way down from tha Compton town, and I'll betcha cant. CHORUS - Neva understood (Ha)(Yeah) how he did it(Ladies and Gentlemen, Yeah,Tha bar is now open)How he made this music groove your very soul, soul(it'z all me), Neva understood how he did it, how we made this music groove your very soul, soul Xzibit - Listen, I'm tha spin docter fantom of tha opera, if this is 89 now we break you off proper cock blocka, cova few G's in my low-low, not done hoe, my nigga big came in solo, dough-low, most niggaz we know act like a Homo, and when they wit a crowd they wanna get loud, wanna act wild and act like there crminal file, and strechin tha MOB, and really got tha heart of a child, spicy ya MOB just kill all chickens, extra points just like a field goal kickin, like a Fucked up D-A, wit a cross that aint stickin, and im walkin away a free man, cuz ya'll niggaz softa than sand,cuz we fuckin a fan, and lokin out wit cha pen, I fucked yo motha so now I'm a mutha fucken man, break food on tha track like it supposed to be, and break bread wit tha real niggaz close to me, PMD CHORUS - Neva understood how he did it (DJ Quick in tha mutha fucken house) How we made this music groove your very soul, soul (This dick in ya mouth, come on, yeah, yeah) Neva understood how he did it How we made this music groove your very soul, soul( You think it aint, Westcoast brodcastin live in 1999 all tha way through out tha millinium) Neva understood how he did it, (millinium shitt) How we made this music groove your very soul, soul Neva understood how he (Yo, millinium shitt) did it how we(DJ mutha fucken Quick) made this music groove your very soul, soul (Green eye bandit bitch niggaz cant stand it come on) Neva understood how he did it, how (keep it bouncin, R.I.P Roger Troutmen) we made this music groove your very soul, soul Neva understood how he did it, how we made this music groove your very soul, soul Neva understood how he did it, how we made this music groove your very soul, soul ( Ha,ha,ha,ha,ha nigga) NEVA UNDERSTOOD HOW HE DID IT, HOW WE MADE THIS MUSIC GROOVE YOUR VERY SOUL, SOUL......... |
|||||
|
- | ||||
from Erick Sermon - Double Or Nothing (2001)
Intro:
(laughing) Yeah, coming to you like, yeah, you know another one of those, flavorishis, mackadoshis, sour cream and onion type flavor. Redman: I rule the world like Kurtis Blow with my afro blown I'm torn out the frame, drunk style stagger like Ned the Wino For black albino, I'm like suicide on vinyle The type of antidope shit you have to keep away from my nose And I'm the, bombest rhymer, check my steez My vocals are like vaginas, wet an MC's when they open My identities, blows facilities to ememies please test these abilities I'm rugged, I pack a 24 studded, karrot automatic, 45 nigga slugger So ring thee alarm, when your TV is on, I react freakin' to songs When bitches see me perform, bitches say I strickly brake vertibraes Bones back, chinky eyed like Japs I blow states off the map Just by eye contact Hook: Don't get it twisted and if you do, you best to move on move on "Rock, rock on" - Redman (x4) Erick Sermon: Yeah, I shut down things for the moment, what? Paying my does for them fake ass crews (yeah) Who be claimin' to be the shit y'all stop Gimmicks, hard core lyrics for an image I'm stompin' 'em the beast wompin' 'em Brain damage is caused, girls drop they drawers to the ground I be's the Effect like Wrecks, rhyme skills be shooting off like two black techs Somebody stop me I'm smoking like Mask Shut your mouth, he's a bad, uh, like Shaft The E-Double bring the dopest material, way out cosmic type Alcoholic whisky type funk for your sissys (word up) Huh, I take it to the streets, if you can't run up on my turf then get some cleats I let one nigga slide in 93, but this year, he's fuckin' history Hook (X4) Passion: Strick nine rules the mind on the verge of destruction Blood starts to boil like a lyrical combustion, eruption Insane no pressure no pain, niggas falling off it's strain to maintain They be killing me, trying to preach to me, teach to me I got a PHD in funkology You got your bachelors and your masters in the field of dramatics The lyrical are bringing the static from the attic, so cock your automatics I've had it up to here, you niggas are in danger You better stand clear, no hugs no love and kiss mainstream America They just ain't ready for this, cause I'm nice as shit Niggas be having fits, the Squad of Def be smacking hits after hits And what's goin' on in your mind I can feel it Tremors in the body has caused for the healin' Hook (x4) Outro: You know what I'm sayin'? Things is hot in the tunnel out in here you know what I'm sayin'? Ah, N-Y-C streets is love, it's hot in the summer, um, spring, winter and fall things are just lovely, sweet & sour sauce. Doin' this y'all feel this. I feel you. |
|||||
|
- | ||||
from Erick Sermon - Double Or Nothing (2001) | |||||
|
- | ||||
from Erick Sermon - Double Or Nothing (2001)
Intro:
Check it one two (it's a party), coming to you live it's Erick Sermon (Def Squad) Keith Murray, Redman. The new type of roll models, oregano, cinnamon, all flavors check it out y'all, my nigga Tone stay up. D-Mack word up. Verse 1: Me and my crew in the Benz for a deek, while other peeps trailing me in the black jeep Creepin', on our way to a House Party, with no Kid 'N' Play just a fly DJ I't on and poppin' and we gettin' RIGHT, everythings TIGHT Everyone has a light, I pull up in the place to be, immediatly swarmed And all of us is armed, it's cool like that type of scene, crazy blunt ashes Girls shaking asses, money makers, video rumpshakes And niggas with game fast breakin' just like the Lakers It's all good if your game is tight, and if you know the scoop don't love 'em like Snoop Yeah, the reason why, the girls out there get biz, run like a bunch of wild kids Hook: I'm doin' my thing if you feel me do your thing (Do your thang do your thang) (X4) Verse 2: Now the scene is set and now I'm hype I'm seeing what girls is coming home with me tonight I spot one on the sofa, sippin' juice, with three other girls, sportin' pin curls I said to myself "Excuse yourself E", so I went over and put my hand out like Billy Dee Excuse her from the two girls she was with, Macked her put the Flava In her Ear and split To the side to the other vibe, where it looked live, protected cause my man had the 4-5 My boy looked up, asked me if he was hooked up I said she was shook up, she threw my phone book up She gave me every phone number that she knew, a girlfriend for you, a girlfriend for you (word up) I stay real, I never perpetrate, cause now adays, falling in love never pays I'm quick to say fuck a hoe (yeah) y'all niggas know, I'm strickly for the doe Word to God, this is the way that Def Squad swing, it's not just a one day fling I represent my style for my peeps, take it to the streets, where we play for keeps Have a drink conversate, and pump up your fists and do it like this Hook (X6) |
|||||
|
- | ||||
from Erick Sermon - Double Or Nothing (2001)
Intro:
All this way, I'm doing my thang (x2) Verse 1: Guess who? The realist flavors like mystic Coming through with drama, question my karma E-Double mack supreme, um I got cha, I'm in my land crusier pumpin' Junior M.A.F.I.A. I'm freshly dipped and I'm ready for the night, I'm doin' the boom bang boogie band for my niggas No gold diggers, it might resort to triggers But a few tricks that's down for the cause, breakin' all laws, and takin' off they drawers Cristle flowin', Moet flowin', Don P flowin', y'all not knowin' Huh, it's on like that and everybody's welcome So react, bitch no diggity, Ain't No Future In my Frontin', just ask MC Breed Yo Jazzy bring the leaves Hook: I got freaks in the living room gettin' it on and they ain't leavin' till six in the morining Yeah, cause I'm the man above and if you're going down, um I got 'em (x2) Verse 2: Lookin' at my Roley it's about that time, a quarter past 9 I'm lookin' through my blind, cars start rollin' up It's my niggas and my cousin Jah-Boogie with the goodies And behind his ass some girls in a Wrangler Gettin' out doin' it, I'm watchin' them persuein' it Huh, they all come in, I give my niggas a pound Just chill while I start the sound, now the vibe is on like butter on popcorn (say what?) So we gonna do it all night long, 3 hours past by, I'm off the hook There's girls everywhere, I swear, I swear Smoke in the atmosphere, indo on the window Check out this light ?, on this here single, ha ha ha I freaks the funk for my people, y'all know the sequal, technique is mad lethal Hook (x2) Verse 3: Uh, It's all good I suppose, I'm still feakin' hoes I'm still freakin' flows, I'm Boombastic, Shaggy My pants stay bagggy, Karl Kani down, so how's that sound? Hey, I'm the best thing since AC, I'm gettin' money and the sex is free Realize recognize I be the green eyed bendit in flesh, and y'all know the rest Hook (x4) |
|||||
|
- | ||||
from Erick Sermon - Double Or Nothing (2001) | |||||
|
- | ||||
from Erick Sermon - Double Or Nothing (2001)
Whoop Whoop(8x)
(Redman) Funky dilemmas, destroy mc's by process of elimanation Ghetto linger breaks your inner, mind body Got me sold like Hurachis, funk tracks up the ass make peace wit knock-knees, the funk dwella in your cella no one's betta, pull more Playboy bitches than Hugh Heffner I phase you wit my nasal style I'm able To rock two turntables for oh say like sweet sable Now who's on the deal I'll make you feel the real I kill at will wit nine shots in your window sill Or mill, to feel a gust of wind, I must've been worn Wit ten of my dusted friends I, I get up in you like Keith Murray Make your whole crew shit stew beef curry in a hurry Make competition leave early smokin the lala Blazay Blah come through your block and open fire (Redman's in the area Keith Murray's in the area Erick Sermon's in the area) (Erick Sermon) You best believe Is this mic on word up I swarm like helicopters, after robbers, at fiends gettin dollars The lyrical Street Fighter call me Sagat Blazin hot like the bullet from somebody gettin shot Where ther's a drum there's a beat And where there's guns there's the streets This option allows me to make my opponents wit degrees From here to overseas, clowns in my mix and don't know the flava Its the same reason why I threw away my Skypager Magnificent, givin rappers death certificates Wit fly intricate flows by the lows Y'all come out the hype description of this One time Billboard winner, six time Gold record list No one invited me so I crashed and brung the vibe And broke it out like a rash, who? So who do I be? The E, the D-O-U-B the L, to the E Get your blunt leafs and fire it up Get your ZigZags and fire it up Whhhoooo! MC's you betta stand clear, Def Squad is a world premier (Keith Murray) AAAhhhhhh! Word is bond I collect your con getcha gone like a moron I break your little itty bitty styles down to ions My rap style has many many mixtures of murderous poetry And deadly lectures and fixtures, matter fact my rap Sounds be on sickly timin, meaning your brain can't be defined In the words I be using when I be rhymin Now you can change your whole word back and forth And bring the roughest rapper and I bet you blood he'd cough My rap style is like my lifestyle, rougher than turbulence Ever since I commenced to subject you to my bullshit I compress your chest and perform open-heart surgery And God forbid I outrageous people see the L.O.D. I love beatin you in the head with this Make you wanna run off and go get a psycho-therapist-analist Way nicer than the force intended The nicest rapper that ever came out since you could remember Def Squad |
|||||
|
- | ||||
from Erick Sermon - I`M Hot [single] (2005) | |||||
|
- | ||||
from Erick Sermon - I`M Hot [single] (2005)
(feat. Cha Cha)
Yeah - uh, uh Def Squad, combustion mode 610 what? Huh, yeah New York [Verse One] (Heyyy heyyy) It's "Time 4 Sum Aksion" That Redman shit the E come with, what? The rap supreme Naseem Hamed When I hit, the jam comin straight for the head ("Watch me!") This be the song at hand, understand Even though I never rocked the stage on Summer Jam I'm in the lab makin tracks 70 grand That get heard by crazy fans like Stan (hey man) Who like my shit, cause I come through Like a new German made, car for the paid VS be the five-double-oh, S in front No future in yo' frontin yo (?) pop the trunk I'm Imp the Dimp, the ladies pimp (uh-huh) The women fight, for my delight Cause I'm the Green Eyed Bandit in the place to be That, shock the house no doubt nigga please [Chorus: Cha Cha + Erick Sermon] Y'all know we come through the club (heyyy heyyy) Steppin like ba-boom-boom-boom-burp (heyyy heyyy) Uhh - in rap niggaz call me the mack Cause I pimp the track, heyyy heyyy Y'all know we come through the club (heyyy heyyy) Steppin like ba-boom-boom-boom-burp (heyyy heyyy) Uhh - make sure my fam got my back It's just like that, heyyy heyyy [Verse Two] I float like Muhammad, I'm the bomb shit Rappin grenades explode when the track is laid, uh Whatever the era is, the E'll outlast 'em Like VROOOM and ride right past 'em Amazin, my conversation blazed 'em I shot funk from here and in Japan it grazed 'em A big dog, I take up space I'm so cold, I rock 'til you're blue in the face (shh) I rock hard, call me a rock star Jimi or Jagger, I rock where the blocks are I come through when my time is leisure In the big black something with fifteen speakers Screwface me? You ain't hard neither Bump your head - just a thug with amnesia Uh - God bless ya My style is so fat, that's why I got high blood pressure [Chorus x2] [Outro] (Erick say it) Yeah put your hands up Just like "Music," feel the cut, uhh (Erick say it) Doowhutyalike Huh, rock like this all night (Erick say it) To all my homegirls Do you now - "go ahead baby" (Erick say it) To all my homeboys Get money, and keep it real, one |
|||||
|
- | ||||
from Erick Sermon - I`M Hot [single] (2005) | |||||
|
- | ||||
from Erick Sermon - I`M Hot [single] (2005) | |||||
|
0:5 | ||||
from Erick Sermon - Music (2001) | |||||
|
3:12 | ||||
from Erick Sermon - Music (2001) | |||||
|
3:13 | ||||
from Erick Sermon - Music (2001)
(feat. Cha Cha)
Yeah - uh, uh Def Squad, combustion mode 610 what? Huh, yeah New York [Verse One] (Heyyy heyyy) It's "Time 4 Sum Aksion" That Redman shit the E come with, what? The rap supreme Naseem Hamed When I hit, the jam comin straight for the head ("Watch me!") This be the song at hand, understand Even though I never rocked the stage on Summer Jam I'm in the lab makin tracks 70 grand That get heard by crazy fans like Stan (hey man) Who like my shit, cause I come through Like a new German made, car for the paid VS be the five-double-oh, S in front No future in yo' frontin yo (?) pop the trunk I'm Imp the Dimp, the ladies pimp (uh-huh) The women fight, for my delight Cause I'm the Green Eyed Bandit in the place to be That, shock the house no doubt nigga please [Chorus: Cha Cha + Erick Sermon] Y'all know we come through the club (heyyy heyyy) Steppin like ba-boom-boom-boom-burp (heyyy heyyy) Uhh - in rap niggaz call me the mack Cause I pimp the track, heyyy heyyy Y'all know we come through the club (heyyy heyyy) Steppin like ba-boom-boom-boom-burp (heyyy heyyy) Uhh - make sure my fam got my back It's just like that, heyyy heyyy [Verse Two] I float like Muhammad, I'm the bomb shit Rappin grenades explode when the track is laid, uh Whatever the era is, the E'll outlast 'em Like VROOOM and ride right past 'em Amazin, my conversation blazed 'em I shot funk from here and in Japan it grazed 'em A big dog, I take up space I'm so cold, I rock 'til you're blue in the face (shh) I rock hard, call me a rock star Jimi or Jagger, I rock where the blocks are I come through when my time is leisure In the big black something with fifteen speakers Screwface me? You ain't hard neither Bump your head - just a thug with amnesia Uh - God bless ya My style is so fat, that's why I got high blood pressure [Chorus x2] [Outro] (Erick say it) Yeah put your hands up Just like "Music," feel the cut, uhh (Erick say it) Doowhutyalike Huh, rock like this all night (Erick say it) To all my homegirls Do you now - "go ahead baby" (Erick say it) To all my homeboys Get money, and keep it real, one |
|||||
|
3:43 | ||||
from Erick Sermon - Music (2001)
Just like music..
Uh-huh, aiyyo yo, uh-huh yeah yeah, uh uh uh There's no doubt, no doubt, no doubt, uh Worrdd up.. Ahhh babyyy.. Just like music.. To relax my mind, so I can be free And ab-sorb sound that keep me 'round Doin my thang, constantly with no worries Peace to Keith Murray.. ("just like music") To keep me flowin and keep me goin and keep me growin, and keep me the E from knowin What happens out there, is not my concern You wanna die it's not my turn ("just like music") To do somethin to me like jump in the Mercedes On the highway, doin over eighty Without music baby.. ("Oww! I'll go crazy.. just like music") Make me call my homey on the phone Like there's somethin new out, that got me in the zone Just that feelin, got me I wish music can adopt me ("just like music") (Chorus: Marvin Gaye) Turn on some music, I got my music Turn on some music, I got my music Turn on some music, I got my music Turn on some music, I got my music - just like music Put me in the mood with my woman Got me in the ear, sayin sweet nothings Make love come out the mouth, no frontin Like all of a sudden, ("just like music") Takin away your worries and cares Any problems, music'll be right there Together match yo, we a perfect pair Is that true Marvin? ("Yeahhhhh! Music") Yo, to get you to bang this Body soul-snatcher, universal language It be the light, so open up This is it, what the fuck? ("just like music") One fly tune That have black and white vibe in one room No confrontation, parlay all night It's just the sensation ("just like music") (Chorus) (Marvin Gaye) Music is the soul of the man Music makes a, happy day Music makes a, cloud flow by baby Your music is my tears in-side my eyes (just like music) Your music makes me want to sing Girl music, is a joy to bring (just like music) Music is my heart and soul, more precious than gold (Turn on some music, I got my music) Happiness for days, justice all the way (Turn on some music, I got my music) I love your music baby (I got my music) (Turn on some music, I got my music - just like music) Hey (la-da-da-da-daaaa-dah-dah-dahh) doo-doo, doo-doo-doo Turn on some music (la-da-da-da-daaaa) turn on some music Just like music (la-da-da-da-daaaa-dah-dah-dahh) doo-doo, doo-doo-doo Turn on some music (la-da-da-da-daaaa) turn on some music Just like music (la-da-da-da-daaaa-dah-dah-dahh) doo-doo, doo-doo-doo Turn on some music (la-da-da-da-daaaa) turn on some music Just like music.. {*fades out*} |
|||||
|
1:06 | ||||
from Erick Sermon - Music (2001) | |||||
|
3:39 | ||||
from Erick Sermon - Music (2001) | |||||
|
3:11 | ||||
from Erick Sermon - Music (2001) | |||||
|
3:37 | ||||
from Erick Sermon - Music (2001)
(feat. Olivia)
Banger.. Yo.. "keep bouncing".. have some fun [O] Uh, bouncy bouncy [Verse One] Uhh, flamin hot, game shot Five seconds left, all net, watch Yo, this here be a funky dope maneuver Bring it to your gut with more Jab than Judah (take that, take that) And make sure the beat slam to the canvas Get a call from Vince McMahon cause I Pinned the game with a Marvin verse Two suburbs in the hearse when the rhyme disperse Uh, E Dub been real since a fetus Came out with no laces, shell toe Adidas Fame like Regis - made myself a millionaire Got three lifelines, I'm fine, I'm OutKast +Fresh+, my tracks be +Clean+ No confusion, stop the illusion, E's That man there do it, I come with explosive force Sixth time on the cover of The Source A decade, so what can y'all tell me? Go against the grain is seldom seen When I walk through the crowd I can see heads turnin I hear voices sayin, "That's Erick Sermon" [Chorus 1: Olivia] He be the gen-i-us, E Dub He be the one that rocks the house, so crazy (so crazy baby) All my people out there show love (show love) "keep bouncing" Bounce, forrrrrrrrrr me "keep bouncing" [Chorus 2] [O] Whatcha gon' do when you get in the jam? [E] I'm gon' have some fun [O] What do you consider fun? [E] Doin it for 'Pac, Big L, Tah and Pun [Verse Two] Yo, it's too hot for the devil I raise the heat to the maximum level Stop drop and roll, the roof's on fire Next time think when my name's on the flier T-shirt and jeans, Air's the attire Two-way pager, NexTel wire I'm like this seven days a week Whatever, song is made best believe it's freak Cause I - get my freak on, uh, I get my freak on Erick Sermon is so ill, somethin to speak on Yo, you came in the game and blew it Got your rap deal revoked and can't renew it, uh You wish you was blessed like me A child God chose to overexpose, whoa I'm over - that's what I heard But now I'm on your station with songs preferred Uh, I'm top three, in thirty-five states And now I'm eating over thirty-five plates When I walk through the crowd I can see heads turnin I hear voices sayin, "That's Erick Sermon" [Chorus 1] [Chorus 2 x2] [Olivia] Uhh, Olivia Yeah, J Records .. uhh, Erick Sermon baby On the up and up, uh-ohhh! |
|||||
|
1:43 | ||||
from Erick Sermon - Music (2001) | |||||
|
4:11 | ||||
from Erick Sermon - Music (2001) | |||||
|
3:44 | ||||
from Erick Sermon - Music (2001)
(feat. LL Cool J, Scarface)
[LL Cool J] Uhh, uhh.. yeah See I know how to get down, word up It's so hot it's, LL's version of the East coast chronic Smoke 'til your lungs collapse You supposed to be the nigga, where all the drama at? So ironic, L came back Flooded the market - got your mens on the wall Holdin his blunt, too fucked up to spark it Show me a nigga who can do like I do Then gas your mans up so I can rip that nigga too Braggin you goin platinum like that shit brand new I was platinum in eighty-five, what THE FUCK wrong with you, huh? Come (?) L - what you call rocks to me is minerals Tried to throw salt on my name, shit's political The baddest man on the planet So ill when I'm spittin niggaz take it for granted Cram to understand it, I'll switch and write it lefthanded Heat my pinky ring up and leave your bitch branded Got a voice like a cannon - nigga shoot I don't think she really hot, your career is a fluke I'm the best MC to ever touch the pen Take a look at what I'm doin it will not be done again As sure I am the descendant of former slaves I'ma resurrect brothers from they mental graves Make 'em confess - LL's the most rugged God, and no man's above it, gotta love it [Chorus: LL, Erick] DO - get this bread, use ya infrared RE - fuck the industry, it's all about MI - you ain't goin - FA L said it - SO, puffin on the - LA DO - get this bread, use ya infrared RE - fuck the industry, it's all about MI - you ain't goin - FA E said - SO, puffin on the - LA (.. TI DO) [Erick Sermon] Uhh, E Dub on the microphone Droppin bombs - spots get blown So why would you assume my style wouldn't bloom When I rap, wack MC's vacate the room Cause they suck, and that's how I feel I'ma smack down the A&R who signed the deal Then wrap 'round his neck yo' reel to reel So next time he know, how the real feel Get loose and wrap hand 'round the steel Leave you in the truck, wrapped 'round ya wheel (I ain't playin) But y'all front like I ain't it And every rapper y'all like, sample my shit (Name one) I'm nice, and there's no mistakin I threw a bomb rhyme in the hands of Troy Aikman My track record is out there, gone E.T. like maybe I should phone home (hello?) I'm known for the dome bangers Drop any song of mine right now in the club and it's DANGER Scarface, E, LL Cool (jigga jigga) J, never heard it spit this way, hey [Chorus: LL, Scarface] DO - get this bread, use ya infrared RE - fuck the industry, it's all about MI - you ain't goin - FA L said it - SO, puffin on the - LA (that's right) DO - get this bread, use ya infrared RE - fuck the industry, it's all about MI - you ain't goin - FA Cause 'Face said - SO, puffin on the - LA (.. TI DO) [Scarface] You a trash-ass nigga, slash garbage-ass rhymer You switched from the raw to a chart climber And now your shit is blowin out the stores And uh, next month you fin' to go out on the tour but Count - (two, three, and, four) Your records ain't sellin no more And damn - you done spent your money galore Buyin all the stupid shit that your money can't afford (uh-oh) Tryin to keep up with the trendy Got your bitch minked out in all Fendi Bought your homeboy a brand new Bentley And the well that wouldn't run dry is now empty It's simply, cause you wasn't focused on the next day And your next tape you can't give it away, but hey I send these to these niggaz tryin to keep up with the Joneses Everything you see me I owns it I've been quietly sellin tapes for thirteen years So let's get, that, clear You might have sold a few more tapes, but Realistically, are you that great? (nah) Can't get respect but I done paid dues Stood on the block slangin cooked up rocks, I'm the same dude I've been the same nigga since I came through Do-re-mi too, damn fool! |
|||||
|
3:48 | ||||
from Erick Sermon - Music (2001) | |||||
|
3:37 | ||||
from Erick Sermon - Music (2001)
(feat. Cadillac Tah, Keith Murray)
That's hot (crazy) [Cadillac Tah] Yeahh, gangsta! What the fuck nigga? Cadillac Tah, uhh E-Dub - this fuckin beat is gangsta nigga Word, uhh, c'mon, uhh Whattup Murray? Welcome home nigga Yeah, let's lay it down nigga, gangsta style Yeah, uhh, c'mon, yeah [Erick Sermon] Yo, aiyyo I be the bandit, make dough expand it Army bag full that blow mass transit Cats can't stand it, oh God damn it Invade earth like a UFO landed Rolex or standard, you got cheese Grant-ed You still can't hang with the Green Eyed Bandit Your chains tampered, caught red-handed They asked you to run ya jewels and you ran it Smile you on candid, fake thugs canned it Got shot and +Scream+ed, like Michael and Janet Tape SoundScanned it, b-boys slammed it Gots to play my tune cause radio demand it This here's the real, hardcore steel Boogie Down Production, KRS-One feel That there's the deal, Ron grab the steel Set b-boy stance and grab my deallz [Chorus: Erick Sermon] Yo yo watch 'em rings (up dem thangs) Or your cheese (up dem thangs) Your credit cards (up dem thangs) Yeah right now (up dem thangs) Your car keys (up dem thangs) The accesories (up dem thangs) Cristal bottles (up dem thangs) Yeah right now (up dem thangs) [Cadillac Tah] Yeah, playboy we bang if that chain hang With diamond clusters - POV CITY HUSTLERS! Y'all niggaz is busters, Mr. Murder A.K.A. Cadillac and rat-a-tat BLAM! Niggaz be shot for blue rocks, you not Willin to die so UP, DEM, THANGS Or the bullets'll fly TOUCH, YO, FRAME Believe me it's nuttin mayn, spittin lead from heat dogg This my bread and meat, picture me starvin Got a degree in robbin, kickin in doors and runnin In stores boy I'm heartless give you the whole cartridge You look like a smart dude, relentless So resistance ain't a smart move, BLUKA BLUKA! Let 'em have it for the karats silly rabbit get nailed When the hammer swingin Chop your hand off and sawed off your diamond ring An' my nigga Murray touch down on it, time to push it [Chorus: Keith Murray] Oh y'all niggaz flashin dough? (up dem thangs) Oh y'all all got chains? (up dem thangs) Oh y'all got diamond rings? (up dem thangs) Yo y'all niggaz know my name (up dem thangs) Oh y'all niggaz got benji's (up dem thangs) Oh y'all niggaz playin games? (up dem thangs) Oh y'all think shit is sweet? (up dem thangs) Man we take it to the streets (up dem thangs) [Keith Murray] Listen young boy this here ain't no game You comin around us you gon' up them thangs Rings chains and watch, and your ears give me the rocks We stickin motherfuckers for they shoes and socks You got Benji's? Up 'em - chains? Tuck 'em Nah, I don't love 'em - get 'em, yeah fuck 'em We supposed to be brothers - oh you tryin to kick some knowledge nigga? Save that garbage and come up out your pockets Before money wasn't a thang, it grew on trees Now my gat is in your mouth you yellin, "No Keith please!" I get another and another, a sister and a brother Who love 'em they momma love 'em cause I damn sure don't love 'em Run up on 'em like - yo, who got the weed? UP DEM THANGS nigga gimme dat cheese! If you don't want it to rain, and feel this pain I strongly encourage y'all to up dem thangs (up dem thangs) (up dem thangs) (up dem thangs) (up dem thangs) (up dem thangs) (up dem thangs) (up dem thangs) (up dem thangs) |
|||||
|
3:05 | ||||
from Erick Sermon - Music (2001)
Yo yo yo yo, yo
Turn my mic up some.. turn my mic up some.. Turn my mic, check check, check, turn my mic up some Almighty, uhh.. [Verse One] Lord forgive me now This be the best way I know how, to get this out I can't sing so I have to bounce Even though, that's not what my style's about I hate this world, sometimes it gets me When family and friends are not friendly I just don't get it - so I sit home In the bassment lights low on the mic and spit it They plot, to get my scratch Not knowin the time to get where I'm at now In my face, like I owe 'em somethin Handout from me, and never did nuttin (word up) They're mad at me, like I changed It's hard on me Lord, it's wreckin my brain Is it me? I know it can't be So I ask you, please help me, now [Chorus: R. Kelly] [sampled] Sometimes I laugh, tryin to keep from cryin If I was plain out of luck, then tell me who could I trust See I work so hard, just to get ahead If it wasn't for God, I'd probably be dead [Verse Two] Uhh, I laugh when ain't nuttin funny Meanwhile cats wanna count my money Plan on me, to get jumped or somethin Plot-ting like E's punk or somethin Feels so strange, how I maintain To last in the game, throughout my fame I'm focused man, the E stay the same Hate when folks call me out my name Damn Lord, heal my body Cause I'm mad enough to kill somebody Even hard to trust my lady Did she lock me down to have my baby? I know she love me - damn it's nuttin The world's so corrupt, it got me buggin Uhh, I wanna move away like (?) Y'all feel me - yo, R. Kelly [Chorus] [Verse Three] Huh, yo, huh The game changed, damn I should quit Can't get respect, without havin a hit Someone somewhere talkin shit Got fake cats in my clique But I deal with the cards that's dealt Try to make music that's heartfelt Still doin eighty on the Belt' In the Escalade, with Dolce shades I've been paid, now what's left? I guess, should I stress life or death (huh?) Sometimes I wanna end it all Live at peace, with 'Pac and Smalls Can't do that, got fam at the crib My moms, my pops, my girl and my kids (uh-huh) .. open my eyes So I ask you, please help me, now [Chorus] |
|||||
|
1:50 | ||||
from Erick Sermon - Music (2001) | |||||
|
3:36 | ||||
from Erick Sermon - Music (2001)
Just like music..
Uh-huh, aiyyo yo, uh-huh yeah yeah, uh uh uh There's no doubt, no doubt, no doubt, uh Worrdd up.. Ahhh babyyy.. Just like music.. To relax my mind, so I can be free And ab-sorb sound that keep me 'round Doin my thang, constantly with no worries Peace to Keith Murray.. ("just like music") To keep me flowin and keep me goin and keep me growin, and keep me the E from knowin What happens out there, is not my concern You wanna die it's not my turn ("just like music") To do somethin to me like jump in the Mercedes On the highway, doin over eighty Without music baby.. ("Oww! I'll go crazy.. just like music") Make me call my homey on the phone Like there's somethin new out, that got me in the zone Just that feelin, got me I wish music can adopt me ("just like music") (Chorus: Marvin Gaye) Turn on some music, I got my music Turn on some music, I got my music Turn on some music, I got my music Turn on some music, I got my music - just like music Put me in the mood with my woman Got me in the ear, sayin sweet nothings Make love come out the mouth, no frontin Like all of a sudden, ("just like music") Takin away your worries and cares Any problems, music'll be right there Together match yo, we a perfect pair Is that true Marvin? ("Yeahhhhh! Music") Yo, to get you to bang this Body soul-snatcher, universal language It be the light, so open up This is it, what the fuck? ("just like music") One fly tune That have black and white vibe in one room No confrontation, parlay all night It's just the sensation ("just like music") (Chorus) (Marvin Gaye) Music is the soul of the man Music makes a, happy day Music makes a, cloud flow by baby Your music is my tears in-side my eyes (just like music) Your music makes me want to sing Girl music, is a joy to bring (just like music) Music is my heart and soul, more precious than gold (Turn on some music, I got my music) Happiness for days, justice all the way (Turn on some music, I got my music) I love your music baby (I got my music) (Turn on some music, I got my music - just like music) Hey (la-da-da-da-daaaa-dah-dah-dahh) doo-doo, doo-doo-doo Turn on some music (la-da-da-da-daaaa) turn on some music Just like music (la-da-da-da-daaaa-dah-dah-dahh) doo-doo, doo-doo-doo Turn on some music (la-da-da-da-daaaa) turn on some music Just like music (la-da-da-da-daaaa-dah-dah-dahh) doo-doo, doo-doo-doo Turn on some music (la-da-da-da-daaaa) turn on some music Just like music.. {*fades out*} |
|||||
|
- | ||||
from Tony Touch - The Piece Maker 2 (2004) | |||||
|
- | ||||
from Erick Sermon - React (2002) | |||||
|
- | ||||
from Erick Sermon - React (2002)
(Verse One)
Yo! Here I is on radar A sixteen verse burst, the last two are 8 bar Cause by that time, I been did damage The type 9/11, so duke call the reverand Sermon; the rappin Mandingo A mega producer, more drugs than Ringo "A Star is Born," Erick Streisand, the E I'm nice man A rock star while youse a mic stand So everybody gather round by the speaker To hear things clear, the blood comin out the ear I'm a daywalker, the rap be the serum My Squad still Def and you still can't hear 'em If you was a shadow, you couldn't get near 'em Even if there's "Thirteen Ghosts," you couldn't fear 'em Look outside, there's 24's on my Cadd' (huh?) I'm a +Big Boi+, droppin "Bombs Over Baghdad" (Interlude) Here I is, Sermon - yeah - I'll mark an E on your back Yeah.. "That's my man throwin down!" (Verse Two) Uh-huh, uh-huh, yeah It's like street hop, the beat knock I'm what time it is on my clock on my block I'm rockin, I got the Earth in a cradle Youse a baby and not quite able (hell no) "The Ring" appears when you're facin me Death comes time after, some say it's the rapture I'm closed captioned, boy I'm Phil material (Yeah Francis Ford Coppola, E-Dub's the opener) See you at your burial, "Wack MC" on your gravestone Atlanta, I get busy in the Braves home I'm on your head, Ted Danson +Cheer'n+ You forgot Squad is Def, and we hard of hearin (WHAT?!) The star vet got a StarTac phone Extraterrestrial, to see who phone home Got more dough than me? Man stop it Green shit, I got +Shrek+ in my front pocket! (Outro) Here I is, Sermon - yeah - I'll mark an E on your back Th-th-th-this is a warning (aiyyo) "Attention all personal!" Yeah! Come on |
|||||
|
- | ||||
from Erick Sermon - React (2002)
Def Squad, J. Bleezy!
Ha, com-bust-ya-ble, huh.. (AOWWWWW!) (Verse One) It's Erick, I'm back again, full fledged American flag in here so y'all pledge A few of y'all sold some albums, yeah congrats The game in trouble, I must rescue rap Yo, I'm a hero! Sometimes I feel the same way like the folks involved with Ground Zero And somebody owe me boy, I'm dead serious This year my Squad better blow to oblivious Yo, did you lose weight? Yeah, I got stamina Profile me like this and hold the camera I'm alone, so what y'all want do? Take over your faciliy like I'm +John Q+ I rock mics, I Chris Rock, I Kid Rock I rock the house, like I'm RUN!! Rap conniseur, I rock Sean John velour B-boy stance and that's hardcore E-Dub, real name, no gimmicks Your style is over, finito, finished! You a parasite, type lyrical germ You a sucker MC in layman terms, and (Chorus 2X: Def Squad) We don't care nuttin bout you! Yeah, we don't care, we come up in the spot sayin oh yeah Oh yeah, throw your hands in the air Oh yeah, cause (Verse Two) Yeah, I got a track record, I spit fouls E don't stop, keep it grinding (GRIND-ING!) puts it down fo' sho' My figgedy flow is sick siggedy yo Watch me biggedy blow, and y'all niggedy know It's Def Squeezy, thirteen years in rap And now it's easy, I do things to please me YO - I come through so crazy I'm a "Stun'na," like M. Fresh and Baby Got more toys than Kay*Bee, me and my yung'uns "Slow Down," before you receive a summons and get hit for speeding; I break a switch off a tree You catch a beating for y'all misleading (yeah!) Shame on you, when you step to, huh The Green Eyed Bandit, smile you on candid Rob J. Timberlake, I got Janet I'm "In Control" now - OHH WOW! Yeah cause that's how it is, and that's how I'm livin I bring turmoil like Mike and Robin Givens And watch me go off a-go off A yes yes y'all, and show off and show off, and yes (Chorus) (Verse Three) Sermon, the word I preach to ya Control the airwaves so it can reach to ya The underground of rap ring, I'm David Tua The one round knockout, your eyeballs pop out High school dropout, I'm not gon' cop out I did the rhymin thing and now a truck I hop out "Fiesta," I'm down with R. Kelly shit I'm "Supa Dupa Fly," Missy Elliott I stay focused, keep the same cycle Do me, proceed to rock the world like Michael Without Chris Tucker, with no Marlon Brando Just give enough for J-Lo to handle So scream at me, holla, smoke signals Morse code, try a 2-way, or telephone And I give it to ya, all day in street Two turntables a mic and breakbeat, cause (Chorus) (Redman) You got about five seconds to get to the dance floor! {*barking*} You got about, two more seconds to get to the dance floor.. |
|||||
|
- | ||||
from Erick Sermon - React (2002)
(Erick Sermon)
Yo, I'm E-Dub the invincible bandit, rock house on principle Y'know? I'm the man and Def Squad's the fam Some say I'm that "Boy" like Killa Cam The on-the-grind pilot's, flyin again Usin my name you a passenger, so keep silent E's what you're listenin to! Def Squad The crew of 2002! Brand new year The Funk Lord is here, the rap George Clinton The Barry Bonds of hip-hop, I stay hittin Ah ahh, yup my name ring bells like M.O. No gimmicks, I been this way since my demo Never liked the limo, I ride trucks and vans I'd ride in horseback, if I had to see my fans Yeah - I come through, in a mackadocious whip A brand new Benz with a mackadocious kit (Chorus 2X: Redman) I heard the party's goin on in there Well let me shake my stankin ass in there I heard the party's goin on in there Well let me shake my stankin ass in there (Erick Sermon) Uhh, uhh, I never lose momentum I keep it jumpin 'til the cops come and get them Best believe I breeze through like wind, comin through a window Me and the Squad of Def, a few kinfolks Twelve P.M. just left the car place Now I'm, back on the block and pumpin the Scarface Yeah, I'm E-Dub, I'm doper than you Spit rhymes, throw 'em at you, new truck show it at you Stay dipped right down to my feet - yeah My underground tore 'em down by the street It's me, the MC, the E - D. O. U. B. L. E., age be thirty-three, uhh I "Get Down" boy, like Craig Mack Stampede like a elephant, I'm heaven sent The E-R-I-C-K, S-E-R-M-O-N There's a party goin on, tell a friend (Chorus) (Erick Sermon) It was me, Keith, Red and Khari Actin crazy, pumpin some Jay-Z J to the Izzo, oh no, my flow is unbelievable, in the game I'm a pro so For those cats wanna set me up and wet me up, I'm on the block, check me up The MC Grand Royal on the microphone know what's good There's a party goin on, buckle (?) (Chorus) |
|||||
|
- | ||||
from Erick Sermon - React (2002)
Just Blaze, yeah
Check me out now Yo, yo, yo, yo, check me out now Yo, yo, yo, Let me hear ya say Uh huh, uh huh, uh huh Put your hands in the air everybody, c'mon Where them dogs at Hey yo, I'm immaculate, come through masculine Wide-body frame, E-Dub's the name, whoa In the field of rap, I'm supurb, I'm fly I should be in the sky with birds I ride 20 inch rims when I lean, yo (Hey yo, them tens, nigga) I know, I keep 'em clean though Come through stormin' the block like El Nino Scoop up an Arabic chick before she close She goes, those my people Yeah, them broads from Puerto Rico, them Keith's folks Yeah, watch how the "E" locs 64 Black rags, black interior, shift on the floor Burn out, I do it for the kids They're hoppin' the turn style, the "E" goin' wild Yo, like them white chicks on a DVD Yeah, I'm worldwide, MTV and BET, nigga [1] - Whateva' she said, then I'm that If this here rocks to y'all, then react Whateva' she said, then I'm that If this here rocks to y'all, then react Yo, do I gotta go ape or go nutty I leave your eye like a 9-9 Benz-buggy, puffy Brick niggas get real ugly Trust me, keep your four if you feel lucky Mug me, I ain't got nothin' but four figures And weed and hash chopped in the coffee blender My shots like squeegy men on your window Usual suspect, I'm the crippled member Get away when I sat down in the office Heat in my lap keep me walkin' awkward While y'all talk it, the doc reinforce it The mic, it's hard to keep my paws off it Yo' bitch is my bitch when it's over No Cristal, I pulled up with King Cobra Out in the Nova, don't bother My Nino Brown bust, it'll shut down the corridor Hey yo Red, he's over (Word?) with his shit right now Watch this, told ya Chi-chi-chi-chi-chi-chi-chi-chi-chi-chillin', I'm +Milk+ I'm that kid +Gizmo+, we "Top Billin'" Yo, when the roof is on fire, believe it, it's me Sparks when I rock the mic like Segal & Free When the pen hit the pad, the evil in me come out Total recall for people to breathe I got dogs in the backyard shittin' their lawns We got chickens ain't leaving 'till six in the morning Round and round we go, circle the area Leave the party, go straight to the Marriott Dozy-doe with cowboys where they saddle at Rodeo with 20 fours on the Cadillac What your name is, yo, R.E.D. Crack cost money, but the "E" is free, yeah |
|||||
|
- | ||||
from Erick Sermon - React (2002) | |||||
|
- | ||||
from Erick Sermon - React (2002)
Yeah, Mega, uh-huh
Yeah, wh-wha, wha-wha-what? Woo, uh-huh Y'all stinkin ass bitches out there Squad, uh-huh, 610, Megahertz, what Yo yo sup, be chicks over here Shhh, everybody let's go, yo, yeah "Brother things done got too far gone. We got to let the girls know what they got to do for us!" (Erick Sermon) Yo, I like 'em nine-ten-tewelve, you know what that spell Done fingernails and their toes as well I dig a big boned chick, but that's just me I like my baby phat, like (?)Amora Lee E-D I'ma sage, I hit 'em with the arrow The girls think I'm Cupid, I'm like, "It's me stupid" Yeah, I want a girl to prefer an independent To do somethin different with her, cash I'll spend it Chicks that got, they proud cause they made it They can't find a man cause dudes intimidated Intimidate me? Show me the money and the crib and the car, that's yo' new Jaguar? A workin woman, attracts to E Don't mind doin for dem, they don't need me so females take heed to what I'm sayin Tonight's the night, and me and my niggaz ain't playin (Chorus: Erick Sermon) Yeah, to all the girls I might take home (huh) To all the girls I might take home (huh) To all the girls I might take home (huh) Excuse me, may I have your attention? Can I.. (yes you can) Can I.. (yes you can) Can I.. (yes you can) Can I.. (yes you can) (Erick Sermon) Yo, yo, I need a girl too, but not you I'm not bein rude, I'm a differen type dude I'm not gonna trick on you, I'm not Houdini I seen you somewhere before you seen me But, but I wasn't hot though (no) No power no mojo, played me like an old Volvo Yo' kind been there (uh-huh) You got highway miles on you girl, so why would I spend there You want champagne to sip then you buy it See how it feels sometimes, homegirl try it Don't stop there, for real Do it again next time when you out, pay for the meal Uhh, already been there, uh, so I'm tellin you It's a "Scary Movie," Tori Spelling move Ain't nuttin changed, same song as "Golddigger" Same rules apply for the same-ass nigga, what? (Chorus) (Erick Sermon) Yeah, aiyyo here's a few rules, don't approach me in any fashion chick, without the proper tools Yeah tools meaning school, a job, things A place that's yours, so you can slam doors Cause without that, talkin to me, no need You're grown and I already got kids to feed So unless you my baby momma I don't want the Dave Hollister drama cause that's bad karma, trick (Chorus) |
|||||
|
- | ||||
from Erick Sermon - React (2002)
* all of the musical vocals in parenthesis are Al Green samples
"People in the house" - Slick Rick (Welll...) (E-Dub) Sermon - "aiight" (Aww yeahhh...) "As we proceed.." (E-Dub) Holla at ya boy - "People in the house" (E-Dub) Scream at me - "aiight" (Verse One) (Love is) - Yeah, music that you feel good Neighborhood hood, gully Roll through cause it's cool to boost the spirit For the folks young and old and infants can hear it (Love is) - Knowin the rap game is not the same And still I came Whoever killed 'Pac and Smalls, they're lame Erick Sermon, learn my name (Love is) - When I come through your spot With no security guards, just me and the Squad, uhh I got love, a cat got checked by a fan Holdin me down, I got street respect (Love is) - When true fans who don't believe in rumors Real consumers, who love what I'm doin That's why I.. "PROCEED!" Superman, the E don't bleed (Chorus) (Love is) - Yeah, never hatin Everybody's out there is (people) Yeah, why you wanna take my car, so we can be (Walkin together) (Love is) - Def Squad, Keith Murray Redman, that's my (people) Conversate with the next man, so we can be (Talkin together) (Erick Sermon) (Love is) - When the planes hit And the world got together like baseballs and mitts New York's Finest, so I represent my home Hold weight on this microphone (Love is) - When I pray for my enemies If drama cats get smoked like chimneys I'm not dyin for a fake thug who need a hug Not E-Dub - "I'm focused man" {Jay-Z} (Love is) - When your man got your back And, hold you down when no one's around, and Bless that, and get that money And then pass it around so nobody's hungry (Love is) - I do what I do When I can do it like no other to help my brother And, I hope racism as a whole don't walk through life, with a blindfold (Chorus) (Love is) - Showin love to those who paved the way, that's my (people) Politic with Al Green, and now we're (Singin together) (Love is) - Yeah doin it for black and white That's my (people) Get tight altogether, so we can be (Livin together) (Erick Sermon) (Love is) - Yeah, to be able to live With a, beautiful chick and a couple of kids Uhh, with foreign cars, a house on land I'm blessed no doubt y'all - "Check this out" (Love is) - When your man can't pay the bills And you loaned him a couple of bills, uh Now that's real, I come from the heart told ya Erick Sermon, the underground soldier (Love is) - Yeah, Stevie Wonder and Marvin Gaye And that's what I rock every day And take what they say, and then relay When I R-A-P for y'all to play (Love is) - Yeah, God Almighty The Alpha Omega, there's no one greater Then comes your moms, your fam is second And love is, the name of this record (Chorus) (Love is) - Yeah, rockin the house for hip-hop underground (people) Yeah it's only one God, whatever you call him we still (Prayin together) (Love is) - Yeah, for all my true dawgs out there Y'all my (people) I'm in the house, cold lampin, and we're (Livin together) (Singin together.. what it is) (Love is.. love is..) |
|||||
|
- | ||||
from Erick Sermon - React (2002) | |||||
|
- | ||||
from Erick Sermon - React (2002) | |||||
|
- | ||||
from Erick Sermon - React (2002) | |||||
|
- | ||||
from Erick Sermon - React (2002)
(feat. MC Lyte, Rah Digga)
Get this party started [Erick] Def Squad, yeah, Flipmode Raw Footage, uh, yeah While I write y'all, jump in take a ride with me New hummer, no Lisa's, a few dom pieces The L-Y-T-E, I cram to understand and The R-A-H D and me E-D, ah Hey Mr. DJ, give a jigga-jigga back spin If you do like this then bring it back in I'll break ya neck like ya Bus-A-Bus I'm on the floor with a chick that's voluptuous Tell y'all keep the music pumpin' We got the party jumpin' Bartender bring me something Water boy, keep it coming Yeah, out the sprinkler like a Nelly video All blaze one, this is rap phase one I burn anybody, third degree And ? cats like ? from A-M to P-M I'm a M-C and producer Seduced like the Kama Sutra Beyond the stuff that ya used ta [Female Voice (Erick)] Tell me if you don't feel me (so what you sayin') Tell me if you don't feel me, tell me if you don't feel me (yeah) Tell me if you don't feel me (so what you sayin') Tell me if you don't feel me, tell me if you don't feel me (gimme the light) [MC Lyte] The nerve of y'all I spit shit so thick like a swerve on a curb all and murder y'all Ain't shit to me (aha), rap stacked in plaques I'm history, these wack chicks can't F with me We get a rude awakening, B-K bomb, I got 'em shakin' Def Squad, no fakin' It's Erick Sermon and me Niggaz fix ya face fore I fucks it up permanently Hit that, quit that, then burn it a B You work hard for the cash, I make it work for me On my worst day, see I hammer that ass Line for line, let's see whose stamina lasts I'm slammin' ya fast like Def Jam poetry You know it's me, the most ? Bitches grab your notes, send your checks to me Best to be there cause I beat down my enemies, man [Female Voice (Erick)] Tell me if you don't feel me (so what you sayin') Tell me if you don't feel me, tell me if you don't feel me (yeah) Tell me if you don't feel me (so what you sayin') Tell me if you don't feel me, tell me if you don't feel me (Rah Digga, Flipmode) [Rah Digga] Rah D-I, G-G-A y'all I'm from the Bricks where we don't play y'all I fly through ten people like I was skin measles Triple X ready to wreck like Vin Diesel Can't ? the battle, run around when we finished Show the tapes to my dogs like we was all menace Look how long I sit, still big as it get People still runnin' up with that Digga-Digga shit Look at these bitches, now they wanna flip it Tryna rock hard but they better off strippin' Who think they could rip any state group of chicks I come creepin' with a mask like a St. Lunatic I'm a diva by day but when the clock strike twelve It's back to wife beaters, jeans and white shells Pen and five L's, crowd waitin' for ya Comin' out the room, champ like I'm De La Hauyer, dirty [Female Voice (Erick)] Tell me if you don't feel me (so what you sayin') Tell me if you don't feel me, tell me if you don't feel me (aha, yeah) Tell me if you don't feel me (so what you sayin') Tell me if you don't feel me, tell me if you don't feel me [Erick] Yeah, what |
|||||
|
- | ||||
from Erick Sermon - React (2002) | |||||
|
- | ||||
from Erick Sermon - React (2002)
[Sy Scott]
Yo, I'm a tic-tac-toe tactical wit it tactician Tit for tat, three bombs on me, we all ticking Schizophrenic, up in the kitchen With a black fifth up against my head, just, click, click, clickin' it We check the barrel and start respinnin' it We I start, medics, start sowing and restitching them My constituents and scorpions poisonous stingers filled with opium Stay grippin em, I've got a venomous heart, filled with vigilance That will shatter ten continents and ten palatinates Envision the vengefulness, visualize the vindictiveness I rhyme with Sid Vicious viciousness You be kiddin, soft like kittens My grills are pit bulls they will kill when I say sick'em Restrain me, restrict me I'm arresting resistance, can't be apprehended nigga [Chorus] You got a problem with E If you got a problem, come a holla at me And if you want it, we can get it started Plus I got the whole squad siding with me [Icarus] Let the catty spray and wet up the matinee Smack niggaz with both hands like patty-cake Violate and I will retaliate I don't battle fake niggaz, I'm heavyweight nigga GMG, fam, we gladly hotta Behold the sorcerer's stone like Harry Potter And I'm like harry potta, we scary riders Can't get near the dadda, I swear to God I'll come find where you hidin' Have my high, finding beamers and ninas Leave the area shot up, you hearing me patna I'm a f**king five star general, to drive cars into you Ic' dodge interviews, one flip of the mack, take all ten of you This message intended to, who's ever offended duke Yeah you my nigga, but you could still get it too So don't test me, I don't wanna do this shit to you [Chorus] [Red Cafe] Live from the NY state And I got one question, guess what's in my waste Ya'll got me pisted off slick talk To get that Jacob watch, I'll cut your wrist off I'm in the limo too long to turn And this motherf**kin' dutch taking long to burn I'm impatient, this is a song you learn Make money, take money, and I'm hear to confirm my occupation The new boss of course, the new Porsche I pull up just to murder you niggaz and move off You too soft, Red Cafe from New York I tell a bitch quick, I'm hot can't cool off I twist lesbos, and and guzzling out exos My firearms stick to my waste like Velcro It's R.C. nothing phony about me, with E double the O.G. you know me [Chorus] [Erick Sermon] Yeah I know, you never expect me to anchor I bring it to them so called pranksters and them gangsters I run DMCs, from rappers that's petter piper I am the big apple, ain't nobody ripper man I'm not M.J. I'm a lover and a fighter That's why I'm in D.C. now, looking for the sniper I came in the game with hoodies and timberlands Hard since Cypress Hill been wanting to kill a man I did time, a thirteen year bid I'm gutter E, I'm hanging on the side of crib I'm a fan, but I hate what you're doing Whenever you performing shows it's me booing Ya as soft as your bid-die, you punk now, and you gonna be a punk at sixty Dog, ya need more team to get me I'm a G, and my Unit come through like Fifty [Chorus] - repeat 2X |
|||||
|
- | ||||
from Erick Sermon - React (2002) | |||||
|
- | ||||
from Erick Sermon - React (2002) | |||||
|
- | ||||
from Erick Sermon - React (2002) | |||||
|
4:12 | ||||
from R.L. - Elements (2002)
(J.D.)
R.L., E-Dub (huh huh Def Squad) So So Def (Erick Sermon) Yo peep the game two industry kids One of us 'contagious' like Mr. Biggs Two never fib True; rest at crib Live, with a model chick and one kid You ain't trill you pimp still With no game, buying them chicks with small fame yeah I'm here boy to bust your bubble R.L., J.D. and me? I'm E double (R.L.) Everybody, they ask me Who they girl? as she walks past them She's mine though, and she knows that I'll never let her go So she grabs my hand, let's all the fellas know that I'm her man She pulls me close and dances slow Then whispers in my ear let's go (Chante Moore) We can do whatever it is that you wanna do As long as I can spend my whole night with you (R.L) Jump in, my whip, and go back to my crib for some touching [Chorus] It's a nice body (I got me a model) She can't look like a shorty (I got me a model) She knows how to party (I got me a model) I gotta tell somebody (I got me a model) She ain't level headed (I got me a model) Thinkin' bow legged (I got me a model) So why ain't Mama trickin' (I got me a model) Fellas get to listen (I got me a model) [R.L.] Check She's bangin', tonight I'm speaking of this girl of mine She got me, no lie I think I found the love of my life So sexy, so fly Ease the way to my six parked outside She wants me, it's time Then she looks me in my eyes and says (Let's go) (Chante Moore) We can do whatever it is that you wanna do As long as I can spend my whole nights with you (R.L) Jump in, my whip, and go back to my crib for some touching (Chorus) (Bridge) She's a chick who you speak to I let her freak too Put your hands up high let me know I speak true I'm a tell you, what you gon' do Don't you dare let her loose Listen when she tell you (Erick Sermon) Ayo it's me again Erick Sermon Say ah that's my friend When I walk by haters cringe I shine like rims When I rock they get's Ugly like Bubba Sparxxx and Tim Plus when I come through, got my chick with me Brown skin 5' 10" a buck 50 That's what I'm talkin' bout And Michael Johnson jumpin out the gate Chill she says (Chante Moore) We can do whatever it is that you wanna do As long as I can spend my whole night with you (R.L) Jump in, my whip, and go back to my crib for some touching (Chorus) (J.D. Talking in background till fade) |
|||||
|
3:38 | ||||
from Honey (허니) [ost] (2004)
Just Blaze, yeah
Check me out now Yo, yo, yo, yo, check me out now Yo, yo, yo, Let me hear ya say Uh huh, uh huh, uh huh Put your hands in the air everybody, c'mon Where them dogs at Hey yo, I'm immaculate, come through masculine Wide-body frame, E-Dub's the name, whoa In the field of rap, I'm supurb, I'm fly I should be in the sky with birds I ride 20 inch rims when I lean, yo (Hey yo, them tens, nigga) I know, I keep 'em clean though Come through stormin' the block like El Nino Scoop up an Arabic chick before she close She goes, those my people Yeah, them broads from Puerto Rico, them Keith's folks Yeah, watch how the "E" locs 64 Black rags, black interior, shift on the floor Burn out, I do it for the kids They're hoppin' the turn style, the "E" goin' wild Yo, like them white chicks on a DVD Yeah, I'm worldwide, MTV and BET, nigga [1] - Whateva' she said, then I'm that If this here rocks to y'all, then react Whateva' she said, then I'm that If this here rocks to y'all, then react Yo, do I gotta go ape or go nutty I leave your eye like a 9-9 Benz-buggy, puffy Brick niggas get real ugly Trust me, keep your four if you feel lucky Mug me, I ain't got nothin' but four figures And weed and hash chopped in the coffee blender My shots like squeegy men on your window Usual suspect, I'm the crippled member Get away when I sat down in the office Heat in my lap keep me walkin' awkward While y'all talk it, the doc reinforce it The mic, it's hard to keep my paws off it Yo' bitch is my bitch when it's over No Cristal, I pulled up with King Cobra Out in the Nova, don't bother My Nino Brown bust, it'll shut down the corridor Hey yo Red, he's over (Word?) with his shit right now Watch this, told ya Chi-chi-chi-chi-chi-chi-chi-chi-chi-chillin', I'm +Milk+ I'm that kid +Gizmo+, we "Top Billin'" Yo, when the roof is on fire, believe it, it's me Sparks when I rock the mic like Segal & Free When the pen hit the pad, the evil in me come out Total recall for people to breathe I got dogs in the backyard shittin' their lawns We got chickens ain't leaving 'till six in the morning Round and round we go, circle the area Leave the party, go straight to the Marriott Dozy-doe with cowboys where they saddle at Rodeo with 20 fours on the Cadillac What your name is, yo, R.E.D. Crack cost money, but the "E" is free, yeah |
|||||
|
3:39 | ||||
from Method Man, Redman - Blackout! 2 (2009) | |||||
|
4:39 | ||||
from Alfonzo Hunter - Alfonzo Hunter (2009) | |||||
|
3:50 | ||||
from Alfonzo Hunter - Alfonzo Hunter (2009) | |||||
|
- | ||||
from Reset! - Future Madness (2014) |