作曲 : Erick Sermon/P. Smith
Check one, uh-huh
Yeah, aww yeah, uhh 
Richter Scale
It goes lights, camera, action 
I'm onOne more time to kill 'em, my rap flow is fulfilling
I scream with the 
Beastie Boys, "What time is it?"
It's two o'clock, you gettin' knocked out the box
Then kicked off the block, 
Def Squad 
Hit SquadNo we won't stop, **** it, call the cops
I be the invincible, in the school of hard knocks, 
I'm the principle
Fatman Joe you know
As you suffer the repercussions, comin' through the blaze
Bust the crime scene, 'cause some drama
Niggaz duckin' when we come through, throwin' the jab, in the one-two
Layin' MC's out to trap, when we run through, like what?
Like the marathon, flooded with the diamonds on
Get my rhymin' on, 
EPMD ****in' shinin' on
Back to Biz, new address with the fat crib
My shit in the 
Wiz, poli'-in with the big wigs
Off the meter, and everytime we reach the
Tip-top and ya don't stop, uhh!
In the field of rap, we pull rank no question
We top the 
Richter Scale
Off the meter, and everytime we reach the
Tip-top and ya don't stop, uhh!
In the field of rap, we pull rank no question
We top the 
Richter Scale
Bust the techniques, 
E.D. fantastic
Unreal Gang
Starr shit, 
Mass Appeal
Rap's top dawg, 
I'm the one you call on
To get Sic'-
Wid-It, E don't forget it
I'm six, two and a half, heavyset, chocolate brown
Hell of a jab, gift of gab
I'm the elite, keep it underground like street level
I rock a Rolex watch with a diamond bezel
Rap terror terror, 
EPMD, a new era
Off the Richter 
Scale, blowin' hotter than ever
With the Squadron, beg your pardon, got the heads noddin'
Lost your mind and said, "Shit!" when we barged in
The front door, rugged, keeps our shit raw
Make hits for the fans, plus the world tour
Believe that, peep that 
E and P's back
Wreckin' heads daily, so chill and get the bozack
Off the meter, and everytime we reach the
Tip-top and ya don't stop, uhh!
In the field of rap, we pull rank no question
We top the 
Richter Scale
Off the meter, and everytime we reach the
Tip-top and ya don't stop, uhh!
In the field of rap, we pull rank no question
We top the 
Richter Scale
Yo Royal Flush-in, all my cats be bustin'
Servin' you customers and those fake hustlers
Whassup? Step to me, 
I smack you silly
I'm the Kid, but no comparison to 
BillyI ain't scared of you mother****ers, can't you tell?
Girls lose to me when they groove to 
MaxwellI got one life to live so 
I'm livin'
Got girls to be hittin', more cars to be drivin'
We stripped too many beats to make too many niggaz to break
No moves are fake, no warnin' shots fired blastin' on crews
Like corrupt 
JakesThe Black 
Viper, scream on 
MC's and rhyme cyphers
More Dangerous 
Mind than, 
Michelle Pfeiffer
So skedaddle-daddle, you get rattled don't wanna battle-battle
Put one to your rhyme saddle, stompin' through, like wild cattle
We flow beef so dead that, let that shit cease
I'm quick with the hands, plus accurate with the two-piece
Off the meter, and everytime we reach the
Tip-top and ya don't stop, uhh!
In the field of rap, we pull rank no question
We top the 
Richter Scale
Off the meter, and everytime we reach the
Tip-top and ya don't stop, uhh!
In the field of rap, we pull rank no question
We top the 
Richter Scale