The Fan

Yeah yeah uh huh word up

Yo yo yo.. YO

Aiyyo this here's procedure rock MC's durin my leisure

time I spend to do em in

The sound pumps hard and runs right through ya

When it hits it reacts like a airbag to ya

Some flip to it small kids might skip to it

and jail cats get rep to it

You get by on record but you wack on stage

So I'm blowin you up throwin hand grenades

That's why we roll with the big boys

with big toys, bringin crazy noise and ruckus

shuttin down crews and motherfuckers

in low beta, not to be fucked with like the swamp gator

potato, on the barrel of the snub nosed when I blaze ya

As I, dust bust, crush and rush

Catch you flossin nigga, turn your ice physi' into slush

So yo, what's the deally for really

We rock nine untilly, grindin like Billy

So niggaz chill and spark the Phillie

Yo, I know you was a fan of mine

I know you was a fan of mine

I know you was a fan of mine

Here's my card and on the back of it's my fan club digits

Uh, aiyyo takin our spot, that's outrageous

P and I stomp those who get courageous

And microphones get rocked on stages

Any book or mag, we on a few pages

Not commercial, not frontin, and no movie

I swear, cause we take it there

Billboard's top ten, that's tradition

Comin through blastin with mad ammunition

Five-alarmer, microphone bomber, woman charmer

Night in armor, penthouse view, with the sauna

God damnit, pass me the rock, and watch me slam it

Jam it cram it, until you stupid niggaz understand it

It's been a long time, MC crabbin bitch niggaz runnin

Wack MC's we straight stunnin

when we roll up, unexpected, undetected

Resurrected, EPMD second wind, fuel-injected

Word yeah, tell em P, yo

I never seen y'all before, when I came through

with my dogs headbangin with the - Hit Squad crew

Hardcore, we got biz from the get go

Any beef with us, we ain't lettin shit go

E-Dub, no one replacin me

If there's a spot, then find a vacancy

Boy, I own my style, while y'all got leases

I get the whole pie, while y'all get pieces

That's why we own, bitin our shit, we don't condone

News flash, Erick and Parrish, we got it sewn

And like I'm Damon we Dash for the cash, mash for the fash'

Bashin the rash, double up P, straight on smidash

So stop playin, serious like _So What Cha Sayin'?_

In Apollo sold out with Redman, fuckin headbangin

to the street corners, the back alleys, to the Cali valleys

EPMD in effect, chillin as the scans tally