Erick Sermon - Chilltown New York (2004) by Erick Sermon (보컬) on maniadb.com

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>

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

[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

[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

<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!)

<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

[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

<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}

<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>

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?

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]

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>