[PMD] Manslaughter (repeat 4X)
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Verse One: Erick Sermon
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Code name E-D, check on the one two three
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Black male hard MC
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Rap record slave, a brother on the scene
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with a machine gun and one magazine
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Wanted, a half a million for the body alone
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Two million for the microphone
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If you see him, dial 5 dash slayer
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A hotline to the governor and mayor
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He's armed wit ammo, a weapon that's mine
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All black in rap, strap tech nine
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Silencer clipped, check the rip on the sneak tip
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The boy's about ta flip
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Manslaughter (repeat 2X)
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They call him manslaughter
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Manslaughter
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Verse Two: PMD
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Code name MD, rappin fanatic
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No short taken, black Asiatic
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Hit man, keeps my belt unbuckled
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Book a look on my grill with no signs of a chuckle
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Or laughter, cause my name ain't Casper
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The Friendly Ghost, but I smoke an MC if I have to
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Quick fast like Alakazoo, Alakazam
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And I'll be damned, cuz my rhymes slam like Bam-Bam
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Rubble, partner code name is E-Double
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It's those hazel green eyes that keep my man in trouble
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Girls ride the tip, brothers on his sac
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I had to change my name to Bruce Wayne, also known as Bat-
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Man, and grab the bozack wit this hand
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As I slay ya manslaughter
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Manslaughter
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They call him manslaughter
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Manslaughter
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Verse Three: Erick Sermon
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Mad man fully strapped and I quote
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Don't flex, last chump who did, he got smoked
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Undercover, not D-T but E-D
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And wonder why you're spinning my records on thirty-three
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I'm the original, never did crime, I'm no criminal
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No static, pack a forty-five automatic
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Black cat strapped in rap, holding my Johnson
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Walking the streets, a vigilante Charles Bronson
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As the beat kick, face his plate on the M1 done
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Style's sharper than the blade in Shogun
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First suckers disrupt the brain of a sucker MC
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That can't count one two three
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I manage to damage, I roast the whole membrane
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Insane, like a basehead doing cocaine
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I kill a farmer, plus his daughter
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Cause I'm the E-Double, and this is manslaughter
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They call us manslaughter
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They call it manslaughter
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Manslaughter
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Verse Four: PMD
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As I stare deep into the mirror, I could only resort
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To a hardcore gangsta, penile train of thought
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You're stomped out, you're beat down, you go big top shit
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Run your trunk jewels or get, pistol whipped
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Cause I'm too swift to slip or miss a stitch on my rap hit
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Sleep on a sucker and you still can't get with
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me bro, wit this flow and I don't know Judo
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Gunflow is my style, say this so that you know
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There's no time to dance or romance with a nuisance
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Play ya like a puppet to put some lead in ya pants
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Then off you go to the rap rat pack
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Be stripped of your mic, punk on your head we stamped bozack
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That's what the doctor ordered
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Take two of these, dead, manslaughter
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They call it manslaughter
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They call it manslaughter
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Manslaughter
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To the farmer and his daughter, manslaughter
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Manslaughter
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| EPMD |
