Текст EPMD – You Gots To Chill ’97

You gots to chill

Checka one-two, checka one-two
Turn me up, a lil’ more
Check it, check it, check it

Blackout

As I step to the mic with the b-boy stance
To the braveheart MC’s, I wouldn’t take a chance
Keep quiet while the MC rap
And if you disrespect me, it’s the big payback
The E double E is my name, I spell
Thanks to the clientele, my Squad rocks well
I’m in your hood, comin through like what?
Chromed out, beamed out, in a all black truck
You a player, what team you with?
I got major chips, I push the flyest whips
Got the flyest chicks, my outfits be freshly dipped
No matter what the steez, I’m equipped

Well my name is M-D, I’m known as the motivator
Funky beat maker, new jack terminator
Enjoy to destroy, because your rhymes are toy
Never sweatin no click (Why P?) Cause I’m a b-boy
When we on the scene, we always rock the spot
The Green-Eyed Bandit, Scratch and Mic Doc
In the beginnin, we had to let the world know
Now, EPMD is clockin all the dough
Sit back and relax, of course the biz phat
TV with the phone in the back
Always calm under pressure, no need to act ill
Listen when I tell you boy, you gots to chill

I be the fly rhyme maker, female heart-breaker, the dude

Well it’s P, Double-E, M-D-E-E
Here to bless the track and flip the flow with E
When we touch the microphone, no doubt, we always shine
Jewels and rhymes, settin traps and land mines
Did thousand of shows, laced many places
EPMD’s back and yo, throw the tape in
Cause when we come around, we always come with the flavor
Underground hardcore funk, than what we gave you
Or give you, aiyyo what’s next on the menu
This is the take two, stadiums and venues
With E, and I’m the microphone doctor
And the capital E, capital P, capital M, D
Is no doubt, the world shocker
Hit Squad, Def Squad, yeah we both get ill
So believe me when I tell you boy…
You gots to chill

Yo, I’m in the house now
Dudes with ice grills raise they eyebrow, amazed like wow!
E and P return like D
«Last Dragon» to show MC’s just what’s happenin
I get biz and that’s an natural fact
I’m like Zorro, I mark an E on your back
Worse than that, I crown those wannabe gangsters
Say somethin to ’em, and run right through ’em

I’m makin crazy G’s politickin on my mobile phone
The E-Double about the microphone
Cause we’re the funky rhyme maker, puffin Garcia Vegas
The one who rocks the fisherman hat
I grab the mic and make the crowd react
We keep the money stackin, fingers snappin toes tappin
When it’s time to roll, uzi patrol, we’re still packin
EPMD, the mic’s our only friend
Took a break for a while, and now we back again
So if you think about gamblin, you better come prepared
EPMD’s takin all the shares, you gots to chill