EPMD — Rap Is Still Outta Control
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Текст EPMD — Rap Is Still Outta Control
G, man, do I have the power like He-Man
To crack a wack MC’s head, open like a pea can
Damn, my name should become Sam
But I prefer, a grand royal for the jam
I’m putting heads out, the guns I use to pump lead out
Hey son, I suggest that you head out
I total, cremate, strikin mic flakes
I won’t break, I make more nerves than a earthquake
Strong, got more strength than King Kong
I’m worldwide, I’m interviewed like Kaity Tong
I’m on now, live at 12, it’s so dope
All the way to 4 o’clock, there no soaps
I’m able to rock the mic nice and stable
It’s a chance that you might see me on Cable
Vision, Showtime or HBO with the flow
Getting more play than Rambo
Aiyyo, whatta you know, party people, rap is outta control
Rap is outta control, it’s definitely, fuckin it’s outta control
Rap is outta control, rap is definitely outta control
It’s outta control, rap is outta control
Straight from the underground, where universal beatdown is a mush
Yo, I stuck crab MC, E (too late, he got crushed)
Was he a pop rap singer, R&B swinger
A faggot who jumped the gate and now you get the finger
In other words, it’s absurd to try to get wit
The brother from Brentwood, Long Island, nicknamed Swift Lip
I’m too smooth and yes, I groove to the slam track
Wit a Beck’s in my right hand, left hand on bozack
I moved on ya posse, first reaction was «Oh shit
Let’s do that brother, hell no (why) he’s too quick»
So dial 1−900−55-eat-shit
I pack a twelve shot nine mil and yes I still kick
(What) ass like a jock (height) 6’3″ and stocky
(Last name) not Balboa, so motherfuck Rocky
I’m the mainstream supreme, slamming like Hakeem
The Dream, and yes sometimes it may seem that
Rap is outta control (repeat 2X)
Sure dude, rap-rap-rap-rap-rap, for sure dude
Rap is outta control, yes, yes y’all, yes y’all
Yes y’all, yes y’all, kick it E
I stand tall, I won’t fall, I recall
Ha ha, your rhymes stall
When I bust caps, until they Kryptonite caps
I reign of steel, I swap bullets like that
I’m like, Superman, fly high way up in the sky
And if you try to shoot me down, clown, I won’t die
I cremate, I hate, let’s exterminate
Wait for a second, E, time to debate
As I take my fisherman hat off, there’s no hat
For an MC on a trail of a mad comeback