| The employees of the year, yeah, we’re back to work
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| I took time off, while other rappers got jerked
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| Due to the fact they wack in their track
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| Have to go back and stack 'cause they lack
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| The ingredients EPMD and scratch for that…
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| *DJ Scratch cuts and scratches*
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| Yo, I’m the hip-hopper, plus the show shocker
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| Down with MD, yes, the microphone doctor
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| One wrecks, the other destroys
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| And if you think that you’re ready to mess (Kill the noise)
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| We don’t play when it’s time to slay
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| I get a cut from my homey, yo, then I lay
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| Back and mack and all the rhymes I pack
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| And wait for a sucker to jump and then attack
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| Well, I’m known to be the master in the MC field
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| No respect in '87, '88, you kneel
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| Cause I produce and get loose, when it’s time to perform
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| Wax a sucker like Mop & Glo
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| (That's word bond)
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| Smacked a second time, but on a different assignment
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| And do a sucker new jack who needs a rappin' alignment
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| 'Cause I’m the cream of the crop when it’s time to do a show
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| Girlies on my jock for my dope intro
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| As I glance at E-Double, king microphone wrecker
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| Turn on my cordless, sayin' mic checka
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| To the ladies … and all party goers
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| Some call me P, and others slow flower
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| Brothers on my jock, for the way I hold a piece of steel
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| So what you sayin'?
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| So what you sayin'?
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| Puttin' heads to bed, straight out the box
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| MCs are jumpin' out shoes and socks
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| I’m not playin', understand what I’m sayin'
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| Catch a sucker in my way, and I’m slayin'
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| Takin' no shorts, showin' vital sign
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| You can tell by my lines that I’m gettin' mines
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| In '89, because I’m fine as wine
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| Sit back and recline, watch the sun shine
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| Take a stroll, listen to rock and roll
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| Catch a flick at the movies, dance or bowl
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| What I choose I refuse to slack while I’m back
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| I take a chance jack, so I must attack
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| With knick knack paddywack so I won’t lack
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| Oh, my style is def, and as deadly as crack
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| While I’m slayin' music’s playin', a sucker is delayin'
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| Battle in the trenches where the funky beat playin'
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| 'Cause with a partner like E Double don’t come a dime a dozen
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| Not kin or blood-related, but you can call us cousins
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| 'Cause as we climb the charts, better known as statistics
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| Brothers on my jock while I’m kickin' ballistics
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| Droppin' hits like 'I'm Housin,' 'You Gots To Chill,' and more
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| The proof is in the pudding
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| (Yo, check the Billboard)
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| People round town talkin' this and that
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| Of how we sound like the R, and our music was wack
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| Dropped the album Strictly Business and you thought we would fold
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| Thirty days later, the LP went gold
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| So what you sayin'?
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| So what you sayin'?
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| Now party people it’s time for the exquisite
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| No knock knock who that over there or who is it
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| It’s the E-R-I-C-K, yes, the Boy Wonder
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| No foulups, no bleeps, no bloops or no blunders
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| So hot, so you can say I’m blazin'
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| Or Luther Vandross says, yo I am
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| «Sooooooo amazing, and I’ve been waiting»
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| For a sucker to attack yo me the E-Double
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| 'Cause me and PMD is like the funky fresh couple
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| I fight fire with fire, that’s why most retired
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| And when we needed a piss boy, you was hired
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| 'Cause you was mesmerized, for that style that we was bringin'
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| In an all-out battle, P comes out swingin'
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| 'Cause I’m just the type of brother that’s out to get mines
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| And if the odds against me, I still drop lines
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| And get mines on time, that’s why most resign
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| Sit in my La-Z-Boy chair, relax my head and recline
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| Sip a Pepsi or Coke, with a twist of lime
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| Or crack a forty-oh
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| , and then I go for mine
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| So what you sayin'?
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| So what you sayin'? |