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Текст песни Epmd - Draw

Epmd - Draw слова песни

* old Western for first 40 seconds *[Erick Sermon]Anybody around here seen Two-Gun Billy?I said, did anybody around here seen Two-Gun Billy?(Ain`t no Two-Gun Billy `round here Who the hell you think you are, comin up in here ya damn yankee?)[Erick Sermon]You just pull a gun out on me?Now you know you done fucked up right? * five gunshots *Now, if any one of y`all see himTell him that, EPMD was in town..[Parrish Smith]Draw, cock it back, squeezin metaphorsSpurs on my Timb`s, when I start blazin, hit the floorCowards duckin, I`m emptyin chambers when I`m bustinQuick with mine, smokin up heaters, when I`m crushinNice with the weapontry, you ain`t shootin meyou shot the deputy (ahhhhh) what you hearin when you step with theblack dragon, puffin L`s in the truck wagonDrinkin moonshine, writin rhymes with the pants sagginAnd hit the saloon, causin the guns in my holster to make roomlike Josie Wale and Clint Eastwood at High NoonSo amigo, take ten paces, move your feet slowTurn around and wave goodbye, to your peopleTime to draw, I`m aimin for your dome and jawFastest nigga in the wild West or East you ever sawAn outlaw, my horse drinkin water from the resevoirTime to ride again until next time to draw"Ten nine eight seven six five four three two murder one lyric at your door" -> Method ManDraw.. "Gimme that microphone I`ma show you the real meaning of the danger zone" -> Cool J"Ten nine eight seven six five four three two murder one lyric at your door" -> Method ManDraw.. "Gimme that microphone I`ma show you the real meaning of the danger zone" -> Cool J[Erick Sermon]HahThose dudes quick fast to grab the micflee the scene, or see the infrared beamOn the mic I dismantle, leave an impressionand ruin you, like I`m the Bill Clinton scandalImpeach em, then I Erick can B. PresidentPass a law, hardcore in the residenceAct fool, turn shit out, no doubtthe hard route, and watch all the b-boys sproutAir the room out, take a picture, get the zoom outand focus, or go into hypnosisI wasn`t here when I wrote this (where was you?)Up the top with the street team hangin out, hangin Squadron postersMe and my dogs homey reppinin case some punks roll up, yo P, flash the weaponForty-four caliber chrome, read itCan`t count ten paces, I`m already heated itP and Erick Sermon is like a Ruger GermanPut one up in your sternum, gun em down and burn emAny superhero we lettin em know from doorCome correct when it`s time to draw

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