Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Open Fire, artist - Erick Sermon. Album song Double Or Nothing, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 31.12.1994
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: The Island Def Jam
Song language: English
Open Fire |
Funky dilemmas, destroy mcs by process of elimanation |
Ghetto linger breaks your inner, mind body |
Got me sold like hurachis, funk tracks up the ass |
Make peace wit knock-knees, the funk dwella in your cella |
No ones betta, pull more playboy bitches than hugh heffner |
I phase you wit my nasal style Im able |
To rock two turntables for oh say like sweet sable |
Now whos on the deal Ill make you feel the real |
I kill at will wit nine shots in your window sill |
Or mill, to feel a gust of wind, I mustve been worn |
Wit ten of my dusted friends i, I get up in you like keith murray |
Make your whole crew shit stew beef curry in a hurry |
Make competition leave early smokin the lala |
Blazay blah come through your block and open fire |
(redmans in the area |
Keith murrays in the area |
Erick sermons in the area) |
You best believe |
Is this mic on word up I swarm like helicopters, after robbers, at fiends gettin dollars |
The lyrical street fighter call me sagat |
Blazin hot like the bullet from somebody gettin shot |
Where thers a drum theres a beat |
And where theres guns theres the streets |
This option allows me to make my opponents wit degrees |
From here to overseas, clowns in my mix and dont know the flava |
Its the same reason why I threw away my skypager |
Magnificent, givin rappers death certificates |
Wit fly intricate flows by the lows |
Yall come out the hype description of this |
One time billboard winner, six time gold record list |
No one invited me so I crashed and brung the vibe |
And broke it out like a rash, who? |
So who do I be? |
the e, the d-o-u-b the l, to the e Get your blunt leafs and fire it up Get your zigzags and fire it up whhhoooo! |
Mcs you betta stand clear, def squad is a world premier |
Aaahhhhhh! |
Word is bond I collect your con getcha gone like a moron |
I break your little itty bitty styles down to ions |
My rap style has many many mixtures of murderous poetry |
And deadly lectures and fixtures, matter fact my rap |
Sounds be on sickly timin, meaning your brain cant be defined |
In the words I be using when I be rhymin |
Now you can change your whole word back and forth |
And bring the roughest rapper and I bet you blood hed cough |
My rap style is like my lifestyle, rougher than turbulence |
Ever since I commenced to subject you to my bullshit |
I compress your chest and perform open-heart surgery |
And God forbid I outrageous people see the l.o.d. |
I love beatin you in the head with this |
Make you wanna run off and go get a psycho-therapist-analist |
Way nicer than the force intended |
The nicest rapper that ever came out since you could remember |
Def squad |