Richter Scale Lyrics - Back In Business - Epmd

Check one 

[Erick Sermon] 

Uh-huh 

Yeah, yeah, "richter scale" 

It goes lights, camera, action I'm on 

One more time to kill em, my rap flow is fulfilling 

I scream with the beastie boys, what time is it? 

It's two o'clock, you gettin knocked out the box 

Then kicked off the block, def squad hit squad 

No we won't stop, fuck it call the cops (uh-huh) 

I be the invincible, in the school of hard knocks 

I'm the principle, Fatman Joe ya know 

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[Parrish Smith] 

As you suffer the repercussions, coming through the blaze 

Bust the crime scene, cause some drama, niggas ducking 

When we come through, throwing the jab, in the one-two 

Laying MC's out to trap, when we run through (like what? ) 

Like the marathon, flooded with the diamonds on 

Get my rhyming on, PMD fucking shining on 

Back to biz, new address with the fat crib 

My shit in the wiz, poli'-in with the big wigs 

[Chorus Erick Sermon: x2] 

Off the meter, and every time we reach the 

Tip-top and ya don't stop 

In the field of rap, we pull rank no question 

We top the "richter scale" 

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[Erick Sermon] 

Bust the techniques, e.d. fantastic 

Unreal gangster shit, mass appeal 

Rap's top dog, I'm the one you call on 

To get sic'-with-it, e don't forget it 

I'm six, two and a half, heavyset, chocolate brown 

Hell of a jab, gift to gab 

I'm the elite, keep it underground like street level 

I rock a Rolex watch, with a diamond bezel 

[Parrish Smith] 

Rap terror terror, EPMD, a new era 

Off the Richter scale, blowing hotter than ever 

With the squadron, beg your pardon, got the heads nodding 

Lost your mind and said, "shit!!" when we barged in 

The front door door, rugged, keeps our shit raw raw 

Make hits for the fans, plus the world tour 

Believe that, peep that e and p's back 

Wrecking heads daily, so chill and get the bozack 

[Chorus] 

[Erick Sermon] 

Yo royal flush-in, all my cats be busting 

Serving you customers and those fake hustlers 

Whats up? step to me, I smack you silly 

I'm the kid, but no comparison to billy 

I ain't scared of you motherfuckers, can't you tell? 

Girls lose to me when they groove to Maxwell, 

I got one life to live so I'm living 

Got girls to be hitting more cars to be driving 

[Parrish Smith] 

We stripped too many beats to make too many niggas to break 

No moves are fake, no warning shots fired blasting on crews like corrupt jakes 

The black viper, scream on MC's and rhyme ciphers 

More dangerous mind than, Michelle Pfeiffer 

So skedaddle-daddle, you get rattled don't wanna battle-battle 

Put one to your rhyme saddle, stompin through, like wild cattle 

We flow beef so dead that, let that shit cease 

I'm quick with the hands, plus accurate with the two-piece 

[Chorus]