Epmd - House Party lyrics

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Epmd - House Party lyrics

It's like this y'all it's like that y'all It's like this y'all it's like that y'all It's like this y'all it's like that y'all [Parrish Smith] This is the year for the barbaric and the cats with sk**s Underground with the hoodie, f** keeping it real While you was pissing in your bed, we was making a mill' Got up, with Erick Sermon, dropped "you gots 2 chill" Then n***as bugged, turned hardcore b-boy, slash thug Giving fake love, with fake hugs, to fake thugs With fake mugs, running they mouth with the place bugged And caught a slug, and no one see nothing but mask and gloves [Erick Sermon] Hey yo likewise I come in strong with no disguise, ruthless It's me, transformed I'm eazy-e Past the point of rocking the joint I'm blowing the spot, wrecking the scene with my team n***as for life, so feel that I see a few clowns, so where's the steel at Me and my boys are ready, aim that and hold it steady For those who dream, believe I'm freddie Now yo, if you got more dollars in your pocket Put a peace sign in the air if you from the south bronx And let me hear you say Hell yeah hell yeah Say hell yeah hell yeah [Parrish Smith] Hey yo, I grab the mic and strike, explode and ignite Off the head, reminscing about some sh** last night No dough, in the pocket but that sh**'s alright And these f*gots, always stress me so I keep my sh** tight Who am i? the cat to put that a** on standby f** your sister, then chill with you, then tell her man hi Then start stalking, three point shot like Hershey Hawkins Taking it back to the seventy-sixers like Johnny Dawkins [Erick Sermon] Yo I come through camouflaged with the squadron entourage Lookin like ghetto superstars Epmd's the name, there's no mistaken I rob you for all you got, and keep takin The blah-blah buck off like a wild jamaican Earthquakin and dominatin the situation Yes on the scene, the duo, thorough Lettin off, causin ruckus in five boroughs Yo this shout out goes to brownsville, you know what i'm sayin? On ? avenue, newport garden squadron Epmd, you know what i'm saying? To the brentwood posse, somebody just say Make money money, make money money money Make money money, make money money money Everybody say make money money, make money money money Make money money, make money money money [Parrish Smith] Yo, who grabs the mic and spit flows while you swing low I'm high off the indo, but straight up, you gets no wins though I like to ill, pop corks and watch the mo' spill Hundred dollar bills dipping po-nine while my n***as chill [Erick Sermon] Yo yo, yo, yo, yo, yo, yo, yo, yo, p chill chill chill n***as is in here fighting b Yo lounge out man, God damn, n***as is always f**ing up sh** Just put some sh** on they can dance to then