Epmd

[Refrain:] Comin straight from the Underground [x4]
[Erick Sermon:]
As I pump up a brand new funk swing,
and bring back the chill of thrill from B.B. King.
Old fashioned is the way that I be waxin a MC,
I bust a grill, and the reaction I check,
inspect, make sure the heads wrecked;
[crunch] snap a neck for some live effects.
A machine, my functioning, thats mean.
I stay together, my man, like Al Green.
Im a slayer, the E-R-I-C-K and Im back
to attack a punk chump that aint sayin jack.
Boom, Im buckwild when Im stoned,
I close only one eye like a cyclone.
So I throw on my black shades thats rhinestone,
summer to my Benz thats outlined in chrome.
Im the Grand Royal MC, Im no joke.
I hit like a Phillie Blunt when its toked.
I smoke, an MC well-done, he gets done.
Im knockin out wack MCs like Michael Nunn.
Full-power, one punch, crunch, Im throwin bolos.
Im strapped heavy, my handguns thats solo.
Im packed when its time to get down.
Cuz Erick Sermons comin straight from the Underground...
[Refrain x4]
[PMD:]
Okie dokie. My mind gets slow-pokey when I toke the
bull from a Phillie Blunt and I hope me
Old Gold is cold when I pop the cap.
Take a sip and then blitz, then crack a back with a rhyme sack.
Cuz Im too smooth, pay my dues, and cant lose.
Im Top Gun, pullin bitches like Tom Cruise.
And my main man, D-Wade, still gets paid.
And in the off-season, we vacate in the shade.
So all hail the Mary, crack the Moet,
blast the boom-box, then act like George and Jet-son.
Cuz my style, similar to Tae Kwon Do, but hey-yo,
I dont kick or throw stars, this brother flows
to the funk track, with 808 drops for prop the top
of druggin or thuggin, D.T.s or cops.
I say, no to blow and yes to cess and I suggest
you put a buck on Lotto, and if you win, you should invest
in a new grill, Bill, cuz I rock non- until
the Fat Lady sings, or Brooklyn starts to ill.
Theres a fat chance, with the brother bistro,
cuz Im the master of the quadraverb and the echo.
Theres no time to stop, so P keep on steppin
on the edge of the frame of the mind, the nine is the weapon.
That I choose to squeeze when a brother acts wild.
One slug to the head, mafioso style.
You catch a Universal beat down with sounds that pound,
watch yourself son, Im comin straight from the underground.
[Refrain x2]
[ Underground Lyrics ]