Richter Scale Lyrics by Epmd

Richter Scale Lyrics

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    [erick sermon]
    Uh-huh
    Yeah, aww yeah, uhh "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 y'know

    [parrish smith]
    As you suffer the repercussions, comin through the blaze
    Bust the crime scene, cause some drama, niggaz duckin
    When we come through, throwin the jab, in the one-two
    Layin mc's out to trap, when we run through (like what?)
    Like the marathon, flooded with the diamonds on
    Get my rhymin on, pmd fuckin shinin on
    Back to biz, new address with the fat crib
    My shit in the wiz, poli'-in with the big wigs

    Chorus: erick sermon

    Off the meter, and everytime we reach the
    Tip-top and ya don't stop, uhh!
    In the field of rap, we pull rank no question
    We top the "richter scale"
    *repeat 2x*

    [erick sermon]
    Bust the techniques, e.d. fantastic
    Unreal gangstarr shit, mass appeal
    Rap's top dawg, i'm the one you call on
    To get sic'-wid-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, blowin hotter than ever
    With the squadron, beg your pardon, got the heads noddin
    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
    Wreckin heads daily, so chill and get the bozack

    Chorus

    [erick sermon]
    Yo royal flush-in, all my cats be bustin
    Servin you customers and those fake hustlers
    Whassup? 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, uhh
    I got one life to live so i'm livin
    Got girls to be hittin more cars to be drivin

    [parrish smith]
    We stripped too many beats to make too many niggaz to break
    No moves are fake, no warnin shots fired blastin on crews like corrupt jakes
    The black viper, scream on mc's and rhyme cyphers
    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

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