| Yeah, uh-huh
|
| Uh-huh
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| Ah y’all know what, that is, yo, uh-huh (E-Dub)
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| Uh-huh, uh-huh, y’know what that is, word up
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| (Wax and tax em) The Squadron, PMD, Erick Sermon
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| (Millenium Ducats) Yo, yo. |
| uh-huh
|
| Def Jam
|
| Excuse me! |
| I’m tryin to earn a mere buck or two
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| Yo my name’s E-Dub, so who the fuck are you?
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| I’m lockin it down now, and that’s that
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| I’m the bigga nigga, supreme vigor figure with cap
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| Hold your gat, I can’t control the sound
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| If the beat grabs you up, then hold yourself down
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| Captivates, give it raw to the kick and snare
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| Like UHH-HUH. |
| YEAH YEAH.
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| I love it when my jewels dangles
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| Could see stars, like the Bangles
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| When you approach me, adress me as Mr. like Bojangles
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| Death Decepticon, bad intentions when we reppin on
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| Microphones, step in the set and start flexin on
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| Your big man, don’t lose focus and watch the quicksand
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| Kill the drama, my nigga lean on cats, like a kickstand
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| Fuck it, Erick and Parrish Millenium Ducats
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| Fully flossed out, two G’s, Fisherman bucket
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| Chorus: EPMD (repeat 2X)
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| Who? |
| EPMD got checks to cash
|
| What what? |
| Drop bombs for the clubs to blast
|
| When? |
| Right now, so my crew could flash
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| Where? |
| Right here, get the money and stash
|
| Aiyyo what’s that song, that got the average dude
|
| Playin the fool, hittin the bong with Cheech and Chong
|
| What? |
| Me and Mic Doc rock the spot like we’re up
|
| With more technique, than Bruce Lee with num-chuks (wha-TAH)
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| Pure player, my rap flow’s athletic
|
| Workout seven albums — rap calisthetics
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| EPMD now. |
| here to getcha
|
| With a blow, you coulda sworn Roy Jones hit ya
|
| Cats can’t hold me, Erick and Parrish, we hold the trophy
|
| Scorn your team all day so I suggest you change your goalie
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| Cause I’m hype again, with E Double, on the mic again
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| Crack a 40, spark a L, then pop a? |
| Perkadan?
|
| Straight off tiggy, ridin shotgun with my niggy
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| No diggy, E and P tight like Lenny and Squiggy
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| Sundullah, no one cooler than the rap ruler
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| And to the cats out there frontin, yo, you can’t fool us
|
| Aiyyo, stop, drop, and roll, we on fire
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| And we won’t stop rockin til we retire
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| Who said we _Out of Biz_? |
| That there was a liar
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| I’m Sammy Sosa, and P’s Mark McGwire
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| Home run hitters, with black tar beneath the eye
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| If you wanna hate me, do it now, try
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| I’m lethal, take it back to EPMD third album
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| And do it _For My People_
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| I jump out the plane and hanglide
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| Hit the ice and slip-slide
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| Niggas don’t get it, EPMD status, correct me if I’m
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| Mistaken, currently record breakin and still bakin
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| Like Kevin to Footloose only difference we keep the sytsem quakin
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| Dusk to dawn, word is bond
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| You fuck with EPMD, Erick and Parrish, the shit is on
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| Cause we roll with a street team that donate posters
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| Quick to roast ya
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| Run up with the gat cocked back, clap, and smoke ya |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Right Now , by - EPMD. Song from the album Out Of Business, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп