Erick Sermon - Danger lyrics

Intro: It's gonna be that, it's gonna be that sh** Hook: Lounge homeboy you in the danger zone (x8) Verse 1: Keith Murray is this mic psychosis I break your best rapper off thousands of pieces I'm on some other sh**, splittin' wigs with my penmanship Kickin' flows harder then the music So feel in your head and chest then pa** it to the next They give it 5 mic checks and all due respect So please fill it up and check the antifreeze Cause this n***a Keith drop mad degrees I launch tomahawk missiles when I talk With promiscuous intelligence like Mr. Roarke From New York into the world over I walk MC's like Jesus walked on water As my airy frequency reigns through the galaxy I easily gets busy in phase 3 I'm the nicest MC on this side of the peninsula Stalkin' the perimeter like a ninja Hook Verse 2: The Def Squad MC's is sh**ters On your neuro transmitters None quitters, none forgetters Runnin' deep like rivers (word 'em up) what is My delivers, which is, givin' crews the shivers I'm like a mad scientist with this son I concoct some sh** that'll bust the sun I got the stunky funky illest funk flow For the glamorous scandalous world of radio So how you want it, head crack, trips or ceelo? I gets root deep like cavity creeps Rockin' motherf**ers directly to sleep A tybarrious rebel without a pause For the cause and no clause, style is the son of noise Peace to the hardcore, the outlaw raw Bug, young blood thugs, smoke a ounce a day to 64 ounce jugs In the realms of the danger Hook Verse 3: Bust the contrast and how I forecast Supersonic hyper phonic goin' on that a** paragraph With the million dollar bionic metaphorical lyrical math Generating off the chronic By cooling in the dark path and the drug wrath of the ath And the ill sh** that I craft It's labeled as sick logic to the critics on the didicks But they don't know the half of the half The apparatus status of my madness is I conjure up a new style puffin' ganja, over the hook Causin' more trauma with my mouth then the stealth bomber k**ing every style in the book Like it's goin' outta style tomorrow My style is coming from down south and cross yonder I drop the dope sh** for ma**es of non-believers Like spiral pa**es to bu*ter finger wide receivers As my photo type sound gays leis and hoes my style probe To the farthest reaches of the globe Payin' dues got me co*kin' tools, you f**in' fools I'm rippin' crew and no exception to the the god damn rules This is danger Hook