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Correct Richter Scale Lyrics
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Artists: E
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Epmd
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Correct Richter Scale
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Lyrics:
Check one [erick sermon] Uh-huh Yeah, aww yeah, uhh"richter scale" It goes lights, camera, action I'm on One more time to kill em, my rap flow is fulfilling I scream with the beastie boys -- what time is it? It's two o'clock, you gettin knocked out the box Then kicked off the block, def squad hit squad No we won't stop, fuck it call the cops (uh-huh) I be the invincible, in the school of hard knocks I'm the principle, fatman joe y'know [parrish smith] As you suffer the repercussions, comin through the blaze Bust the crime scene, cause some drama, niggaz duckin When we come through, throwin the jab, in the one-two Layin mc's out to trap, when we run through (like what? ) Like the marathon, flooded with the diamonds on Get my rhymin on, pmd fuckin shinin on Back to biz, new address with the fat crib My shit in the wiz, poli'-in with the big wigs Chorus: erick sermon Off the meter, and everytime we reach the Tip-top and ya don't stop, uhh! In the field of rap, we pull rank no question We top the"richter scale" *repeat 2x* [erick sermon] Bust the techniques, e.d. fantastic Unreal gangstarr shit, mass appeal Rap's top dawg, I'm the one you call on To get sic'-wid-it, e don't forget it I'm six, two and a half, heavyset, chocolate brown Hell of a jab, gift to gab I'm the elite, keep it underground like street level I rock a rolex watch, with a diamond bezel [parrish smith] Rap terror terror, epmd, a new era Off the richter scale, blowin hotter than ever With the squadron, beg your pardon, got the heads noddin Lost your mind and said, "shit!!" when we barged in The front door door, rugged, keeps our shit raw raw Make hits for the fans, plus the world tour Believe that, peep that e and p's back Wreckin heads daily, so chill and get the bozack Chorus [erick sermon] Yo royal flush-in, all my cats be bustin Servin you customers and those fake hustlers Whassup? step to me, I smack you silly I'm the kid, but no comparison to billy I ain't scared of you motherfuckers -- can't you tell? Girls lose to me when they groove to maxwell, uhh I got one life to live so I'm livin Got girls to be hittin more cars to be drivin [parrish smith] We stripped too many beats to make too many niggaz to break No moves are fake, no warnin shots fired blastin on crews like corrupt jakes The black viper, scream on mc's and rhyme cyphers More dangerous mind than, michelle pfeiffer So skedaddle-daddle, you get rattled don't wanna battle-battle Put one to your rhyme saddle, stompin through, like wild cattle We flow beef so dead that, let that shit cease I'm quick with the hands, plus accurate with the two-piece Chorus
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