The Fan — EPMD

Erick Sermon

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

Parrish Smith

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

Chorus: Parrish Smith (repeat 2X)

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

Erick Sermon

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

Parrish Smith

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

Chorus

Erick Sermon

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

Parrish Smith

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