Erick Sermon - Open Fire (Feat. Redman & Keith Murray) | Текст песни

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• Erick Sermon
• Open Fire (Feat. Redman & Keith Murray)

Whoop Whoop(8x)

[Redman]
Funky dilemmas, destroy MC's by process of elimi-
Nation, ghetto lingo breaks your inner
Mind body, got me sold like Hurachis
Fuck tracks up the ass, make beats walk knock-kneed
The funk dwella in your cella, no one's wetta
Pull more Playboy bitches than Hugh Hefner
I played you wit my nasal style I'm able
To rock two turntables for old sake like Sweet Sable
Now who's on the deals, I'll make you feel the real
I kill at will wit nine shots in your window shield
Or mill, so feel the gust of wind
I must've been born with ten of my dusted friends (Ahhh)
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
(Redman's in the area
Keith Murray's in the area
Erick Sermon's in the area)

[Erick Sermon]
Is this mic on word up
I swarm like helicopters, after robbers, at banks gettin dollars
The lyrical Street Fighter call me Sagat
Blazin hot, like a bullet from somebody gettin shot
Where there's a drum there's a beat
And where there's guns there's a street
This option allows me to bake my opponents wit degrees
From here to overseas
Clowns in my mix and don't know the flava
Its the same reason why I threw away my Skypager
Magnificent, givin rappers, death certificates
With fly intricate flows by the loads
Y'all 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? (who? 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!
MC's you betta stand clear, Def Squad is a world premier

The one and only Philly Blunt king

[Keith Murray]
Word is bond the lyrical lexicon gets it on like a moron
I break your little itty bitty style down to ions
My rap style has many many mixtures
Of murderous poetry and deadly lectures and pictures
Matter fact my rap Sounds be on sickly timin
Meaning your brain can't be defined
In the words I be using when I be rhymin
Now you can shake the whole world back and forth
Bring your roughest rapper, and I bet you blood he'd 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 bring Reggie, P.P.P. and the L.O.D
I love beatin you in the head with this
Make you wanna run off and go get a psychotherapist analyst
(He's way nicer) than you false pretenders
The nicest rapper that ever came out since you could remember
Def Squad

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