Songtext Underground Epmd

Underground

Refrain:
[comin straight from the underground] 4x

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 4x

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 2x