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Intro:

(laughing) yeah, coming to you like, yeah, you know another one of those,

Flavorishis, mackadoshis, sour cream and onion type flavor.



Redman:

I rule the world like kurtis blow with my afro blown

Im torn out the frame, drunk style stagger like ned the wino

For black albino, Im like suicide on vinyle

The type of antidope shit you have to keep away from my nose

And Im the, bombest rhymer, check my steez

My vocals are like vaginas, wet an mcs when they open

My identities, blows facilities to ememies please test these abilities

Im rugged, I pack a 24 studded, karrot automatic, 45 nigga slugger

So ring thee alarm, when your tv is on, I react freakin to songs

When bitches see me perform, bitches say I strickly brake vertibraes

Bones back, chinky eyed like japs I blow states off the map

Just by eye contact



Hook:

Dont get it twisted and if you do, you best to move on move on

"rock, rock on" - redman (x4)



Erick sermon:

Yeah, I shut down things for the moment, what?

Paying my does for them fake ass crews (yeah)

Who be claimin to be the shit yall stop

Gimmicks, hard core lyrics for an image

Im stompin em the beast wompin em

Brain damage is caused, girls drop they drawers to the ground

I bes the effect like wrecks, rhyme skills be shooting off like two black

Techs

Somebody stop me Im smoking like mask

Shut your mouth, hes a bad, uh, like shaft

The e-double bring the dopest material, way out cosmic type

Alcoholic whisky type funk for your sissys (word up)

Huh, I take it to the streets, if you cant run up on my turf then get some

Cleats

I let one nigga slide in 93, but this year, hes fuckin history



Hook (x4)



Passion:

Strick nine rules the mind on the verge of destruction

Blood starts to boil like a lyrical combustion, eruption

Insane no pressure no pain, niggas falling off its strain to maintain

They be killing me, trying to preach to me, teach to me

I got a phd in funkology

You got your bachelors and your masters in the field of dramatics

The lyrical are bringing the static from the attic, so cock your automatics

Ive had it up to here, you niggas are in danger

You better stand clear, no hugs no love and kiss mainstream america

They just aint ready for this, cause Im nice as shit

Niggas be having fits, the squad of def be smacking hits after hits

And whats goin on in your mind I can feel it

Tremors in the body has caused for the healin



Hook (x4)



Outro:

You know what Im sayin? things is hot in the tunnel out in here you know

What Im sayin? ah, n-y-c streets is love, its hot in the summer, um,

Spring, winter and fall things are just lovely, sweet & sour sauce. doin

This yall feel this. I feel you.

Intro:

(laughing) yeah, coming to you like, yeah, you know another one of those,

Flavorishis, mackadoshis, sour cream and onion type flavor.



Redman:

I rule the world like kurtis blow with my afro blown

Im torn out the frame, drunk style stagger like ned the wino

For black albino, Im like suicide on vinyle

The type of antidope shit you have to keep away from my nose

And Im the, bombest rhymer, check my steez

My vocals are like vaginas, wet an mcs when they open

My identities, blows facilities to ememies please test these abilities

Im rugged, I pack a 24 studded, karrot automatic, 45 nigga slugger

So ring thee alarm, when your tv is on, I react freakin to songs

When bitches see me perform, bitches say I strickly brake vertibraes

Bones back, chinky eyed like japs I blow states off the map

Just by eye contact



Hook:

Dont get it twisted and if you do, you best to move on move on

"rock, rock on" - redman (x4)



Erick sermon:

Yeah, I shut down things for the moment, what?

Paying my does for them fake ass crews (yeah)

Who be claimin to be the shit yall stop

Gimmicks, hard core lyrics for an image

Im stompin em the beast wompin em

Brain damage is caused, girls drop they drawers to the ground

I bes the effect like wrecks, rhyme skills be shooting off like two black

Techs

Somebody stop me Im smoking like mask

Shut your mouth, hes a bad, uh, like shaft

The e-double bring the dopest material, way out cosmic type

Alcoholic whisky type funk for your sissys (word up)

Huh, I take it to the streets, if you cant run up on my turf then get some

Cleats

I let one nigga slide in 93, but this year, hes fuckin history



Hook (x4)



Passion:

Strick nine rules the mind on the verge of destruction

Blood starts to boil like a lyrical combustion, eruption

Insane no pressure no pain, niggas falling off its strain to maintain

They be killing me, trying to preach to me, teach to me

I got a phd in funkology

You got your bachelors and your masters in the field of dramatics

The lyrical are bringing the static from the attic, so cock your automatics

Ive had it up to here, you niggas are in danger

You better stand clear, no hugs no love and kiss mainstream america

They just aint ready for this, cause Im nice as shit

Niggas be having fits, the squad of def be smacking hits after hits

And whats goin on in your mind I can feel it

Tremors in the body has caused for the healin



Hook (x4)



Outro:

You know what Im sayin? things is hot in the tunnel out in here you know

What Im sayin? ah, n-y-c streets is love, its hot in the summer, um,

Spring, winter and fall things are just lovely, sweet & sour sauce. doin

This yall feel this. I feel you.

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