歌曲 | You Gots 2 Chill '97 |
歌手 | EPMD |
专辑 | Back In Business |
作词 : Sermon, Smith, Troutman | |
Verse one: erick sermon | |
As I step to the mic with the b-boy stance, | |
To the braveheart m.c.'s I wouldn't take a chance, | |
Keep quiet while the m.c. rap | |
And if you disrespect me, it's the big payback | |
The E Double E is my name, I spell, | |
Thanks to the clientel my squad rocks well, | |
I'm in your hood, comin through like mud | |
Chromed out, beamed out, in a all black truck | |
You a player, what team you wit? | |
I got major chips, I push the flyest whips | |
Got the flyest chics, my outfits be freshly dipped | |
No matter what the steez, I'm equipped | |
Verse two: pmd | |
Well my name is M.D., I'm known as the motivator, | |
Funky beat maker, new jack terminator, | |
enjoy to destroy, because your rhyme's a toy | |
Never sweatin no click - why p? - cause I'm a b-boy | |
When we on the scene, we always rock the spot, | |
The green-eyed bandit, scratching mic doc, | |
In the beginning, we had to let the world know | |
Now, EPMD is clockin all the dough, | |
Sit back and relax of course the biz phat, | |
T.V. wit the phone in the back | |
Always calm under pressure, no need to act ill | |
Listen when I tell you boy, you gots to chill | |
Verse three: erick sermon | |
I be the fly rhyme maker, female heart-breaker, the dude | |
Want to play me and my crew, that's rude, | |
I'm dope when I get down to the beat, | |
I'm raw, I keep it hardcore for the streets | |
My track's a miracle drug for thugs in this club | |
(p) yo e, I remember when they used to be scrubs, what up? | |
I'm the big bear, some of y'all are baby cubs, | |
Talkin large money when I see your bank stubs, | |
I take control of your body and soul | |
Pack heat in my pants when it's time to roll | |
Verse four: pmd | |
Well it's P-Double E-M-D-e-e, | |
Here to bless the track or flip the flow wit E | |
When we touch the microphone, no doubt, we always shine | |
Jewels and rhymes, settin traps and land mines, | |
Did thousand shows faced many places, | |
EPMD is back, and yo, throw the tape in | |
Cause when we come around, we always come wit the flavor | |
Underground hardcore funk, than what we gave you | |
Or give you, ayyio what's next on the menu, | |
Business to take 2's Stadium and venues, | |
Wit E, and I'm the microphone doctor | |
And the capital E, capital P, | |
Capital M, D, it's no doubt, the world shocker | |
Hit squad, def squad, yeah we both get ill, | |
so believe me when I tell You boy, you gots to chill | |
Verse five: erick sermon | |
Yo, I'm in the house now, | |
Dudes wit ice grills, raise they eyebrow, amazed like wow, | |
E and P return like D, last dragon | |
To show m.c. just what's happening, | |
I gets busy and that's an natural fact, | |
I'm like Zorro: I mark and E on your back, | |
worse than that, I clown those wannabe gangstas | |
Say somethin to them and run right through them | |
Verse six: pmd | |
I'm makin crazy g's, politicin on my mobile phone, | |
D E double about the microphone, | |
cause we're the funky rhyme maker, puffing ? gon shit? faders, | |
the one who rocks the fisherman hat | |
I grab the mic and make the crowd react, | |
We keep the money stackin, fingers snappin, toes tappin, | |
And when it's time to roll, uzi patrol still packin, | |
EPMD, the mic's are only friend, | |
Took a break for a while and now we back again, | |
So if you think about gamblin, you better come prepared | |
EPMD is takin all the shares, you gots to chill |
zuò cí : Sermon, Smith, Troutman | |
Verse one: erick sermon | |
As I step to the mic with the bboy stance, | |
To the braveheart m. c.' s I wouldn' t take a chance, | |
Keep quiet while the m. c. rap | |
And if you disrespect me, it' s the big payback | |
The E Double E is my name, I spell, | |
Thanks to the clientel my squad rocks well, | |
I' m in your hood, comin through like mud | |
Chromed out, beamed out, in a all black truck | |
You a player, what team you wit? | |
I got major chips, I push the flyest whips | |
Got the flyest chics, my outfits be freshly dipped | |
No matter what the steez, I' m equipped | |
Verse two: pmd | |
Well my name is M. D., I' m known as the motivator, | |
Funky beat maker, new jack terminator, | |
enjoy to destroy, because your rhyme' s a toy | |
Never sweatin no click why p? cause I' m a bboy | |
When we on the scene, we always rock the spot, | |
The greeneyed bandit, scratching mic doc, | |
In the beginning, we had to let the world know | |
Now, EPMD is clockin all the dough, | |
Sit back and relax of course the biz phat, | |
T. V. wit the phone in the back | |
Always calm under pressure, no need to act ill | |
Listen when I tell you boy, you gots to chill | |
Verse three: erick sermon | |
I be the fly rhyme maker, female heartbreaker, the dude | |
Want to play me and my crew, that' s rude, | |
I' m dope when I get down to the beat, | |
I' m raw, I keep it hardcore for the streets | |
My track' s a miracle drug for thugs in this club | |
p yo e, I remember when they used to be scrubs, what up? | |
I' m the big bear, some of y' all are baby cubs, | |
Talkin large money when I see your bank stubs, | |
I take control of your body and soul | |
Pack heat in my pants when it' s time to roll | |
Verse four: pmd | |
Well it' s PDouble EMDee, | |
Here to bless the track or flip the flow wit E | |
When we touch the microphone, no doubt, we always shine | |
Jewels and rhymes, settin traps and land mines, | |
Did thousand shows faced many places, | |
EPMD is back, and yo, throw the tape in | |
Cause when we come around, we always come wit the flavor | |
Underground hardcore funk, than what we gave you | |
Or give you, ayyio what' s next on the menu, | |
Business to take 2' s Stadium and venues, | |
Wit E, and I' m the microphone doctor | |
And the capital E, capital P, | |
Capital M, D, it' s no doubt, the world shocker | |
Hit squad, def squad, yeah we both get ill, | |
so believe me when I tell You boy, you gots to chill | |
Verse five: erick sermon | |
Yo, I' m in the house now, | |
Dudes wit ice grills, raise they eyebrow, amazed like wow, | |
E and P return like D, last dragon | |
To show m. c. just what' s happening, | |
I gets busy and that' s an natural fact, | |
I' m like Zorro: I mark and E on your back, | |
worse than that, I clown those wannabe gangstas | |
Say somethin to them and run right through them | |
Verse six: pmd | |
I' m makin crazy g' s, politicin on my mobile phone, | |
D E double about the microphone, | |
cause we' re the funky rhyme maker, puffing nbsp? gon shit? faders, | |
the one who rocks the fisherman hat | |
I grab the mic and make the crowd react, | |
We keep the money stackin, fingers snappin, toes tappin, | |
And when it' s time to roll, uzi patrol still packin, | |
EPMD, the mic' s are only friend, | |
Took a break for a while and now we back again, | |
So if you think about gamblin, you better come prepared | |
EPMD is takin all the shares, you gots to chill |