Instrumenty
Ensembles
Opera
Kompozytorzy
Wykonawcy

Teksty: EPMD. Out Of Business. House Party.

It's like this y'all, it's like that y'all
It's like this y'all, it's like that y'all
It's like this y'all, it's like that y'all

This is the year for the barbaric an' the cats with skills
Underground with the hoodie, fuck keepin' it real
While you was pissin' in your bed, we was makin' a mill'
Got up with Erick Sermon, dropped 'You Gots 2 Chill'

Then niggaz bugged, turned hardcore B boy, slash thug
Givin' fake love, with fake hugs, to fake thugs
With fake mugs, runnin' they mouth with the place bugged
An' caught a slug an' no one see nothin' but mask an' gloves

Ayyo, likewise, I come in strong with no disguise
Ruthless, it's me, transformed, I'm Eazy-E
Past the point of rockin' the joint
I'm blowin' the spot, wreckin' the scene with my team

NFL, 'Niggaz for life', so feel that
I see a few clowns, so where's the steel at?
Me an' my boys are ready, aim that an' hold it steady
For those who dream, believe, I'm Freddie

Now yo, if you got more dollars in your pocket
Put a peace sign in the air if you from the South Bronx
An' let me hear you say, "Hell yeah", hell yeah
Say, "Hell yeah", hell yeah

Ayyo, I grab the mic an' strike, explode an' ignite
Off the head, reminiscin' about some shit last night
No dough in the pocket but that shit's alright
An' these fagots always stress me, so I keep my shit tight

Who am I? The cat to put that ass on standby
Fuck your sister, then chill with you, then tell her man,"Hi"
Then start stalkin', three point shot like Hershey Hawkins
Takin' it back to the Seventy-Sixers like Johnny Dawkins

Yo, I come through camouflaged with the Squadron entourage
Lookin' like ghetto superstars
EPMD's the name, there's no mistakin'
I rob you for all you got an' keep takin'

The blah blah buck off like a wild Jamaican
Earthquakin' an' dominatin' the situation
Yes, on the scene, the duo, thorough
Lettin' off, causin' ruckus in five boroughs

Yo, this shout out goes to Brownsville
You know what I'm sayin? On [Incomprehensible] Avenue
Newport Garden Squadron
EPMD, you know what I'm sayin?

To the Brentwood Posse, somebody just say
"Make money, money, make money, money, money"
Make money, money, make money, money, money
Everybody say, "Make money, money, make money, money, money"
Make money, money, make money, money, money

Yo, who grabs the mic an' spit flows while you swing low?
I'm high off the endo, but straight up, you gets no wins though
I like to ill, pop corks an' watch the Mo' spill
Hundred dollar bills dippin' po nine while my niggaz chill

Yo, yo, yo, P chill, chill, chill
Niggaz is in here fightin' B
Yo, lounge out man, goddamn, niggaz is always fuckin' up shit
Just put some shit on they can dance to then