Scratch Bring It Back (part 2 - Mic Doc) Lyrics - Epmd

Chorus: Busta Rhymes 

Rewind... 

Heal up, real up, bring it back, come rewind... 

[Erick Sermon] 

Now about to wreck shop is the man wit the plan 

Godamn, yo, watch me slam 

Taking the bassline, freaking my lines 

Squeezing my Reebox's pumps and Kriss Kross then jump 

Way behind the track so I sound smooth and rugged 

Pumped it for the Hit Squad, yo, they cold dugged it 

You know my style, man, yo, check the stats 

Down wit the Mic Doc, my DJ is Scratch 

Straight from Brooklyn, Albany projects 

He gets respect when he's rocking wit the set 

He goes crazy, maybe goes into a rampage 

Yo, but don't be afraid 

Can produce hard tracks like this 

But don't shut him down, put him on the funk list 

Live in color, a smooth brother 

If I had to pick a DJ, I couldn't, word to mother 

So George, hit me wit the funk scratch 

Then after that black, come back and rewind that 

George, hit me wit the funk scratch 

Then after that, yo, come back then rewind that 

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Chorus 

[Parrish Smith] 

I'm def, it's my turn 

Freakin a new style, flippin this new style over the track 

I'm all that, down, rippin 

All over the place, yea, check em 

(Yo, yo, yo, yo, MD, yo, hold up money grip 

yo get off that bullshucks 

Rip the hardcore style for the b-boy niggas, 

yknowimsayin, hit me wit that funk) 

Record mode, set the EQ for Dolby 

Step back, check yaself, punk, you don't know me 

I flow, G, (say what) multi mil see 

Brother on fade to black, YO!, and BET 

For my grill in the Source wit the record force 

A1 choice, the golden voice taking no loss 

The name is Mic Doc, don't forget it hop 

The kid from up the block, the tape's kicking ya boom box 

From the boon dox, the powerhouse on the rap route 

So make way, time to roll out 

Can you wind it and mine, primetime 

He got me illin, so hit me wit a (rewind) 

Now bring it back, bust that wisecrack 

Damn, it's been 5 years, kid, you're still on my bozack 

Shockin P, clockin P, when I'm rockin see 

You're not Parrish Smith, so why you mockin me 

You're just a wannabe, you wanna be me 

Sell for millions, until then, get the nuts, G 

No time to battle rap, F that 

I'm pushing maximum level, so smell the smoke from my mic, black 

I'm outta here, peace to the hardcore 

Bring in the hook while Scratch is cuttin like a chainsaw 

Photos 

"My style... deadly psychopath, schizophrenic" 

"Don't forget I'm... crazy swift" 

"How can a brother be so nice" -- 2X 

"Master on the beatdown" 

"Huh forget it I'm constipated"