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Check one
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[Erick Sermon]
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Uh-huh
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Yeah, aww yeah, uhh"Richter Scale"
|
It goes lights, camera, action I'm on
|
One more time to kill em, my rap flow is fulfilling
|
I scream with the Beastie Boys -- What time is it?
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It's two o'clock, you gettin knocked out the box
|
then kicked off the block, Def Squad Hit Squad
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no we won't stop, fuck it call the cops (uh-huh)
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I be the invincible, in the school of hard knocks
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I'm the principle, Fatman Joe y'know
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[Parrish Smith]
|
As you suffer the repercussions, comin through the blaze
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bust the crime scene, cause some drama, niggaz duckin
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When we come through, throwin the jab, in the one-two
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Layin MC's out to trap, when we run through (like what?)
|
Like the marathon, flooded with the diamonds on
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Get my rhymin on, PMD fuckin shinin on
|
Back to Biz, new address with the fat crib
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My shit in the Wiz, poli'-in with the big wigs
|
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Chorus: Erick Sermon
|
|
Off the meter, and everytime we reach the
|
tip-top and ya don't stop, uhh!
|
In the field of rap, we pull rank no question
|
We top the"Richter Scale"
|
*repeat 2X*
|
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[Erick Sermon]
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Bust the techniques, E.D. fantastic
|
Unreal GangStarr shit, Mass Appeal
|
Rap's top dawg, I'm the one you call on
|
to get Sic'-Wid-It, E don't forget it
|
I'm six, two and a half, heavyset, chocolate brown
|
Hell of a jab, gift to gab
|
I'm the elite, keep it underground like street level
|
I rock a Rolex watch, with a diamond bezel
|
|
[Parrish Smith]
|
Rap terror terror, EPMD, a new era
|
Off the richter scale, blowin hotter than ever
|
with the Squadron, beg your pardon, got the heads noddin
|
Lost your mind and said, "Shit!!" when we barged in
|
the front door door, rugged, keeps our shit raw raw
|
Make hits for the fans, plus the world tour
|
Believe that, peep that E and P's back
|
Wreckin heads daily, so chill and Get the Bozack
|
|
Chorus
|
|
[Erick Sermon]
|
Yo Royal Flush-in, all my cats be bustin
|
Servin you Customers and those fake hustlers
|
Whassup? Step to me, I smack you silly
|
I'm the Kid, but no comparison to Billy
|
I ain't scared of you motherfuckers -- can't you tell?
|
Girls lose to me when they groove to Maxwell, uhh
|
I got one life to live so I'm livin
|
Got girls to be hittin more cars to be drivin
|
|
[Parrish Smith]
|
We stripped too many beats to make too many niggaz to break
|
No moves are fake, no warnin shots fired blastin on crews like corrupt Jakes
|
The Black Viper, scream on MC's and rhyme cyphers
|
More Dangerous Mind than, Michelle Pfeiffer
|
So skedaddle-daddle, you get rattled don't wanna battle-battle
|
Put one to your rhyme saddle, stompin through, like wild cattle
|
We flow beef so dead that, let that shit cease
|
I'm quick with the hands, plus accurate with the two-piece
|
|
Chorus
|
|
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-----------------
|
Richter Scale
|
EPMD |