You Gots to Chill
[Erick Sermon] Relax your mind, let your conscience be free And get down to the sounds of EPMD Well you should keep quiet while the MC rap But if you tired, then go take a nap! Or stay awake and watch the show I take Because right now, I'm bout to shake'n'bake The E-R-I-C-K is my name, I spell Thanks to the clientele, yo I rock well I'm not an MC who talking all that junk About who can beat who, sounding like a punk I just get down and I go for mine Say 'check one-two', and run down the line [Parrish Smith] To the average MC I'm known as The Terminator Funky beat maker, new jack exterminator Destroy an employ', when your rhymes are not void Never sweating your girl (Why P?) Cause she's a skeezoid When I'm on the scene I always rock the spot I grab the steel with the crown on top In the beginning, I like to let my rhymes flow And at twelve I press cruise control Sit back and relax, let my rhymes tax Maintain MC's while the Double E macks Always calm under pressure, no need to act ill Listen when I tell you boy, you gots to chill ("Jungle boogie!") [Erick Sermon] I be the personal computer information on rap Like the B-I-Z Markie says, I'll make your toes tap I format the rhymes, step by step Make em sound def to maintain my rep Prepared to come off, in case of a diss Not worried about a thing, cause we can do this I can turn the party out just by standing still Make the ladies scream and shout while the brothers act ill Take total control, of your body and soul Pack a nine in my pants for when it's time to roll [Parrish Smith] I'm the P, double-E, M-D-E-E And one thing I hate, is a biting MC When I enter the party suckers always form a line Then they ease their way up, and try to bite my lines I did thousands of shows, dissed many faces And deal with new jacks, on a one-to-one basis But every now and then a sucker MC gets courageous And like an epidemic it becomes contagious But never the least they all R.I.P For all those unaware it means Rest In Peace Cause M.D. stands for Microphone Doctor And the capital P (capital P) capital M (capital M) Capital D-E-E's no doubt the chief rocker Don't like to get ill, but if I have to I kill So believe me boy, you got's to chill ("Jungle boogie!") [Erick Sermon] Catch every word I'm saying, no there's no delaying Don't hesitate to motivate the crowd I'm not playing Seeing is believing, you catch my drift? Don't try to a-dapt because I'm just too swift (How swift?) I'm so swift and that's an actual fact I'm like Zorro, I mark a E on your back I don't swing on no ropes or no iron cords The only weapon is my rapping sword [Parrish Smith] Intimidate MC's with the tone of my vocal drone When I'm pushing on the microphone Cause I'm the funky rhyme maker, MC undertaker The one who likes to max and relax And when it's time, issue diggum-smack I keep their hands clapping, fingers snapping, feet tapping When it's time to roll Uzi patrol was packing The PMD, the mic's my only friend And through the course of the party, I kill again and again So if you're thinking bout battling you better come prepared Come with ya shield and your armor geared You gots to chill
Written by: Roger Troutman, Erick S Sermon, Parrish Smith
Lyrics © BMG Rights Management, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
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