Оригинален текст
Redman
All the way to motherfkin Georgia
To Tennessee
To motherfkin Texas
To North motherfkin Carolina
Yeah, South fkin Carolina
Yeah, deep down, gritty Alabama
Funk for your funkin ass, nigg*
Ha ha, barefoot walkin motherfkers
Erick Sermon
Yo, guess who's bout to stomp tonight?
Three seniors, rockin the mic, catchin misdemeanors
So charge us with what-what-ever you feel
Balls of Steel, clappin those with rap deals
fk hot, I'm lukewarm and still perform like a champ
battle bout, airing your as* out
So who's dropping s**t on what day? My click's the greatest
Chill, or feel the effect of hi-atus
s**t shuts down when the Squad's around
It gets _Thinner_, it's hexed like white man from town
Three the hard way can't be touched
My style's too faraway, to capture, even with help from NASA
I'm what they call, a living legend, sha-POW
That's what they call, a Mac-11, sha-POW
There's two on the way down, BLAOW BLAOW
Here's two more, BLAOW BLAOW nigg*!
Keith Murray
Is y'all down to ride? (Man listen)
Would you kill for your life? (Man listen)
Can you get busy all night? (Man listen)
(Hah hah..) (Man listen)
Redman
Yo-yo-yo yo, yo yo!
I got the Down South Funk when I clown out punk-ass
police wanna call dogs and sound off pumps
I short your Blaupunkts if you thump my tape
Yo dial funk if you're mo' stiff than Riker's Isle bunks
Get out your seat, E, spit out the beat
The tracks plow underground concrete out the streets
From baldies to fades, when I rock MC's wave
more flags than Puerto Rican Day parade
and give up, I got the rare footage, of fiends walkin
barefooted off my rhyme don't dare cook it
You might fall in to intervene
And New Jacks and they girl become Pookie and that, PROM QUEEN
That bodybag won't fit you tonight
You wanna blow up? Drop the mic, stick to the pipe
Hand to hand my crew'll cripple your click in a fight
Take my tapes way Down South and triple the price
Step up on the scene like whazzup? Hey sugah
Before you c*ck-tease Doc, how that cash put up?
And only way I stop til your click say when
They had enough, cause I could bump to six A.M.
Keith Murray
Is y'all down to ride? (Man listen)
Would you kill for your life? (Man listen)
Can you get busy all night? (Man listen)
(Yo, yo-yo) (Man listen)
My life is a rap, each song is a flashback
of antagonizing anxiety attacks
The beat hits the ground and the earth cracks
be like, "OH NO NOT THEM!" Yeah we back
With rhythmatic articulation, God-forsaken
sick manifestations, PUMP PUMP in your face then
the lyrical force that I put in a rhyme
will hit you with more power than a molecule enzyme
No matter who what when where how I'll lay you down
with a sick illed out fictitious style
Yo, we all represent the hood -- the only difference
between us is that we make the s**t look good!
Programmable annual slammable
You _Lyte as a Rock_ and _I Cram to Understand You_
So for on a mission kissin as* and dissin
We get even like an ambixdeterous, man listen
Is y'all down to ride? (Man listen)
Would you kill for your life? (Man listen)
Can you get busy all night? (Man listen)
(Man listen)
Is y'all down to ride? (Man listen)
Would you kill for your life? (Man listen)
Can you get busy all night? (Man listen)
(Man listen)