[Production by EPMD, & Mr. Bozack]
[Hook]
"Hardcore.. to make the brothers act fools" {*4X*}
[Parrish Smith]
When I turn the party out, all hands is in the air
Some say it's chill, New York throw chairs
It's the punk funk sound to make a sane man flip
Girls rush the stage, f*ggots cold dip
Low, to avoid the caps and blows
By the g**ners, at the b-boy shows
Where the cops, try to control the crowd
But they can't, system's cranked, "So Wat Cha Sayin"'s pumpin loud
Blows are thrown, heads are flown like Pan-Am
Brothers lickin off like the Son of Sam and
The ba**, continues to thump
Some brothers hit the parkin lot, to go pop trunks
Hoes are slapped, j**els are snatched
Brothers are caught in the crossfire without no caps
And on my way out, I heard a s**er scream and shout
{AHHH! ni**aZ!} "n***as," yeah cold turn the party out
[Hook]
[Erick Sermon]
Rap combat is where it's at and I attack
Any crab MC, that's down with the wack
And I wreck, and if I can I snap a neck
Throw a knockout blow, and look for a tech
I'm terror, new edition to rap era
I can't be beat, I'm too sweet plus clever
I'm smart, yes, I'm a so called genius
I'm equipped with the thinkin cap they call keenness
And yo, with that, I can break fool
Especially when the posse is thick and got tools
Makes me feel good cause they got steel
No blasters or cap guns son, the real deal
K-A, microphone wrecker E-D
The O, the U, the B, the L to the E
Rockin on, word is bond, so abandon ship
My name is Erick Sermon now watch out when I flip
I'm far from a chump, I'm hardcore like Brooklyn
Mess with me, and get your manhood took-en
[Hook]
[Redman]
I got it goin on, since I'm up next to flex
You bet I drop heavy so girls grab your Kotex
I catch fits when I blitz a rhyme grit
And my lip gets to the point, to rip some mo' fly sh**
Redman ready to rock rough rhymes
Renegade rapper, rip when it's rhyme time
Punk push a pen and pencil when I'm pissed
Pack pistol posse, flow some more pro sh**
Fee-Fi-Foe-Fum, funky to floor, ay
f** ya freak words for foreplay
Quickly, quiet is kept, never quack
On the Q-Tip I quote, I throw lines like a quarterback
A monster, murder motherf**s like Manson
A madman ,who mutilize men with 9-M-M
Bullets blow bad, brother back to back I slam
Bread and bu*ter, break beats to Bam Bam
Jump off the jim before I jack my johnson
I jam like Janet, chew MC's like Swansons
Dennis stamp dummy, I'm diggin a dungeon
Can you dig that I dig deep, to destroy dumb-dumbs?
Yes, I yam what I yam when I jam, bro
My afro's in the house (YO YO YO!)
Long as I live large, life will be luxury
Ladies in Lamborghinis, love is like luck to me
Nasty n***a, competition is none
From Newark, New Jersey, knock heads like Mike Nunn
sh**, grab the steel when I'm strokin
Smoke with shotguns but the sign said no smokin
Cool it kiddo, I control from sea to sea
Cut like Chuckie, plus style is co*k-D
Superman Lover, cool from the new school
Hold your breath, while I walk holdin my j**els
[Hook] - ad lib scratches to fade