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* versions on "Greatest Hits" differ from the original recordings |
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(Parrish Smith) |
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Yeah, vacation's over |
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As I say mic check, in eighty-nine, time to wreck |
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Tellin all the sucker crab MC's to step |
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EPMD's in effect |
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Snappin necks and cashin large checks, youknowhatI'msayin? |
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And we gonna do it somethin like this |
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(Erick Sermon) |
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Shazam, let me tell you who I am |
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The E-R-I-C-K, S-E-R-M-O-N |
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Call me a lumberjack, or a midland warrior |
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Doin damage to the world worse than the Hurricane Gloria |
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I'm serious -- you can say I'm furious |
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You're sayin in your mind, "Who is he?" because you're curious |
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A rare rap style, not heard by the usual |
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You bite you get damaged, so my brothers stay mutual |
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(Parrish Smith) |
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While I'm makin and takin, emcees shakin and flakin |
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Pre-heat my oven to three hundred degrees and start bakin |
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emcees like potatoes, beats kickin like Cato |
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Gettin philosophical like the Greek man Plato (who?) |
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Greek man Plato (who?) The Greek man Plato |
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But I'm the A.K.Ato flow, bro |
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As you all well know, I do a show |
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Pick up the dough and hoe, break to the limo |
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Money in the pocket, Albee's hands on the ammo |
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Crack the Olde Gold, as we roll and stroll |
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Don't play bold sucker, cause you was told |
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Your spot in the box in eighty-eight was sold |
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So quit the singin come swingin cause of the beat that I'm bringin |
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Tryin to wax EPMD, you be U.G.-in |
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on a heavy narcotic, such as speed or crack |
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Because your rhyme's mediocre but your tracks are wack |
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Not fiction but fact black, believe that |
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Then put away your demo cause the brother is back |
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and get the bozack.. E.. |
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(Erick Sermon) |
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As I sing and do my thing I might sing |
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Jane, or the whole shabang |
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But if I snap, during the course of the rap |
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P tap me on the back, throw the crowd a slap |
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Just to distract, til I'm intact |
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Get my Fisherman hat, so I can mack |
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Groove to the rhythm of a funky track |
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Like ("Yo, you slap me and I'll slap you back") |
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I come correct with the context.. flex.. |
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Just to distract, til I'm intact |
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Get my Fisherman hat, so I can mack |
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Groove to the rhythm of a funky track |
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Like ("Yo, you slap me and I'll slap you back") |
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I come correct with the context.. and then vex |
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and then flex and throw a hex on your whole complex |
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And then check for a second, yo, then sayyy |
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(R-E-S-P-E-C-T) Respect! |
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For me the E Double, or the emcee rap goddess |
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Cause me and PMD we get ours regardless |
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So get the bozack.. P.. |
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(Parrish Smith) |
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Yo, time to get funky and raw |
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Stompin out posses (like who?) like Gigantor |
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Cause when I roll I come fully equipped |
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Mic in the hand, tooly, and spare clips |
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Like a detenator with no ticks I then trip or slip |
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or maybe flip while my DJ's on the mix |
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Never lost a battle and if I did it was fixed |
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You must be sick all on the dilznick, like a jim hat |
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Your shit ain't pumpin and your rhymes are wack |
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Cause you're a nickel dime sucka, who hangs with Tommy Tucker |
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Like KRS-One says, you a Part Time Sucka |
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who works O.T., to be like me |
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The Capital P, the M, I'm like D |
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To slay an emcee, on the S-P-O-T |
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Leave without a motive or a C-L-U-E |
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So get the bozack.. E.. |
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(Erick Sermon) |
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The MC Grand Royal on the microphone |
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Terrorist, mafioso, a.k. E Capone |
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I'm no joke on the stroke I broke so don't choke |
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No hopes folks, I quote note for note |
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You mind float on the rhyme on I wrote (what?) |
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and does the Wild Thing, like my boy Tone Loc |
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It's equipped with the kit that bit the whole shit |
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Don't catch a nitfit, because my style legit |
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Brand new from the crew for you no voodoo |
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A trick from the flicks master Wu Kung-Fu |
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Equipped with the posse and the time I need |
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Cock diesel like Rocky and Apollo Creed |
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So get the bozack.. P.. |
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(Parrish Smith) |
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Yo, mic checkin, checkin and checkin and checkin |
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Scanned the crowd, then start wreckin |
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Either kill or be killed, in the field of hip-hop |
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Cause if you're slow you blow you get popped mopped and dropped |
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If you snooze, you lose, here come the oohs and boos |
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I pop a No-Doz, relax my lips and cruise |
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past a pooh putt'n sucka whose all about schemein |
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Wax the P twice, you must be dreamin |
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Cause as you moan and groan, from the mouth you foam |
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Sayin deep down inside, I shoulda left P alone |
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Cause it's a fact, black, that when I'm loopin the track |
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to lounge in the Danger Zone, because I'm back |
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In fact, Jack, before I launch my attack |
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Premeditate my assassination and come strapped |
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Cause your words are uttered, your wack style is cluttered |
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Tried to step to the E and the P and got smug |
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You get the bo-zack |
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Yo, get the bozack |
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Yeah, get the bozack (knahmean?) |
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Yeah, get the BOZACK |
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(Erick Sermon) |
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Uh-huh, yeah |
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(Parrish Smith) |
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The B, the O, the Z |
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Get the BOZACK |
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(Erick Sermon) |
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Hahhh, yeah |
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(EPMD) |
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get the bozack, get the bozack |
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get the booooooeoeooooeeohzack |
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get the bozack, get the bozack |
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get the booooooeoeooooeeohzack |
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(Erick Sermon) |
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Get the bozack |
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The bozack punk, word up |
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(Parrish Smith) |
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Yo, I don't play |