Epmd

[PMD] Manslaughter [x4]
[Verse One: Erick Sermon]
Code name E-D, check on the one two three
Black male hard MC
Rap record slave, a brother on the scene
with a machine gun and one magazine
Wanted, a half a million for the body alone
Two million for the microphone
If you see him, dial 5 dash slayer
A hotline to the governor and mayor
Hes armed wit ammo, a weapon thats mine
All black in rap, strap tech nine
Silencer clipped, check the rip on the sneak tip
The boys about ta flip
Manslaughter [x2]
They call him manslaughter
Manslaughter
[Verse Two: PMD]
Code name MD, rappin fanatic
No short taken, black Asiatic
Hit man, keeps my belt unbuckled
Book a look on my grill with no signs of a chuckle
Or laughter, cause my name aint Casper
The Friendly Ghost, but I smoke an MC if I have to
Quick fast like Alakazoo, Alakazam
And Ill be damned, cuz my rhymes slam like Bam-Bam
Rubble, partner code name is E-Double
Its those hazel green eyes that keep my man in trouble
Girls ride the tip, brothers on his sac
I had to change my name to Bruce Wayne, also known as Bat-
Man, and grab the bozack wit this hand
As I slay ya manslaughter
Manslaughter
They call him manslaughter
Manslaughter
[Verse Three: Erick Sermon]
Mad man fully strapped and I quote
Dont flex, last chump who did, he got smoked
Undercover, not D-T but E-D
And wonder why youre spinning my records on thirty-three
Im the original, never did crime, Im no criminal
No static, pack a forty-five automatic
Black cat strapped in rap, holding my Johnson
Walking the streets, a vigilante Charles Bronson
As the beat kick, face his plate on the M1 done
Styles sharper than the blade in Shogun
First suckers disrupt the brain of a sucker MC
That cant count one two three
I manage to damage, I roast the whole membrane
Insane, like a basehead doing cocaine
I kill a farmer, plus his daughter
Cause Im the E-Double, and this is manslaughter
They call us manslaughter
They call it manslaughter
Manslaughter
[Verse Four: PMD]
As I stare deep into the mirror, I could only resort
To a hardcore gangsta, penile train of thought
Youre stomped out, youre beat down, you go big top shit
Run your trunk jewels or get, pistol whipped
Cause Im too swift to slip or miss a stitch on my rap hit
Sleep on a sucker and you still cant get with
me bro, wit this flow and I dont know Judo
Gunflow is my style, say this so that you know
Theres no time to dance or romance with a nuisance
Play ya like a puppet to put some lead in ya pants
Then off you go to the rap rat pack
Be stripped of your mic, punk on your head we stamped bozack
Thats what the doctor ordered
Take two of these, dead, manslaughter
They call it manslaughter
They call it manslaughter
Manslaughter
To the farmer and his daughter, manslaughter
[ Manslaughter Lyrics ]