Lyrics EPMD – Intrigued

Erick Sermon:
Hit the floor, tuck and roll E’s on fire
I’m your motherfucker, but not Jerry Maguire
I’m the dark skinned, packin Mac-10, who get busy

Parrish Smith:
Strapped with the gat, bustin caps across the map
Yo the crew’s back, royalties and ASCAP
I’m six two, fat went with the chrome shoe
Diamond and jewels, estates with the swimmin pools

Books:
And the sauna, piggedy-puffin on some marijuana
From Tiajuana, miggedy-mess around and youse a goner
I stash the cash don’t flash the cash what?
You figgedy-front on this kid I smash that ass

Drayz:
Chiggedy-check the one two-er, bringin it from the sewer to the land
Cross the burnin sand, biggedy-Back to Business with my miggidy-man
Got plans to blow, solidifyin all positions in the game
Like coalition, stiggedy-stop look and listen

Erick Sermon:
To the hot shit, I’m the tale of that Bronx shit
Call me Sonny, with pounds of money
Bringin raw music, call my style swoosh
Please say Mister, when you introduce me

Parrish Smith:
Yeah… uh EPMD and Das EFX, time to flex
Like Funkmaster, Back to Business in your tape deck
Steel I hold it, put it together blindfolded
Hangin upside down, bust it, then reload it

Books:
Yo, I’m comin up from Virginia, on the linear
Havin dinner y’all, with this dimepiece named Levinia
Cellu-lar ringin, it’s Books how ya livin
Fat like Thanksgiving, drop some shit like a pigeon

Drayz:
Yo, the boogie banger, biggedy-black Rover to Ranger
Danger, I’m iggidy-off the planet like Kramer
My iggidy-anger, slaughter, iggidy-out of order
Split your monkey ass in half like Moses split the wiggidy-water

You intrigued by the way, we do our thing
Do what?
Pick up the mic, hot, and make you swing
Say what?
Pick up the mic, hot, and make it swing
«Yo, cold wax and tax MC’s who tend to act ill»
x2

Erick Sermon:
Any hype, out the door, kill it
Anything the Squadron wants, uhh BILL IT
EPMD out the box we be rockin
We hold the title, like priests hold the bible

Parrish Smith:
God bless, to any MC who wanna test
Survival of the fittest, fuck it life or death
With ill manuevers, rapper slash producer
Puttin it down with E-Dub, in the sewer

Drayz:
Some riggidy-real thugs, sex hip-hop and drugs
Liggidy-left burnt rugs, drinkin beers out of gold mugs
Slugs in the barrel, on name brand apparel
Briggidy-bringin’ drama like John Travolta in Arrow

Books:
But niggidy-no need for that, Smith squeeze the gat
Ease em back, or niggas gon’ biggidy-bleed, in fact
It’s wiggidy wild shine like the head, of Golden Child
Corrupt styles, sinister smile, we takin bails to trial

You intrigued by the way, we do our thing
Do what?
Pick up the mic, hot, and make you swing
Say what?
Pick up the mic, hot, and make it swing
«Yo, cold wax and tax MC’s who tend to act ill»
x2