Текст песни Epmd - Manslaughter
Epmd - Manslaughter слова песни
[PMD] Manslaughter (repeat 4X)Verse One: Erick SermonCode name E-D, check on the one two threeBlack male hard MCRap record slave, a brother on the scenewith a machine gun and one magazineWanted, a half a million for the body aloneTwo million for the microphoneIf you see him, dial 5 dash slayerA hotline to the governor and mayorHe`s armed wit ammo, a weapon that`s mineAll black in rap, strap tech nineSilencer clipped, check the rip on the sneak tipThe boy`s about ta flipManslaughter (repeat 2X)They call him manslaughterManslaughterVerse Two: PMDCode name MD, rappin fanaticNo short taken, black AsiaticHit man, keeps my belt unbuckledBook a look on my grill with no signs of a chuckleOr laughter, cause my name ain`t CasperThe Friendly Ghost, but I smoke an MC if I have toQuick fast like Alakazoo, AlakazamAnd I`ll be damned, cuz my rhymes slam like Bam-BamRubble, partner code name is E-DoubleIt`s those hazel green eyes that keep my man in troubleGirls ride the tip, brothers on his sacI had to change my name to Bruce Wayne, also known as Bat-Man, and grab the bozack wit this handAs I slay ya manslaughterManslaughterThey call him manslaughterManslaughterVerse Three: Erick SermonMad man fully strapped and I quoteDon`t flex, last chump who did, he got smokedUndercover, not D-T but E-DAnd wonder why you`re spinning my records on thirty-threeI`m the original, never did crime, I`m no criminalNo static, pack a forty-five automaticBlack cat strapped in rap, holding my JohnsonWalking the streets, a vigilante Charles BronsonAs the beat kick, face his plate on the M1 doneStyle`s sharper than the blade in ShogunFirst suckers disrupt the brain of a sucker MCThat can`t count one two threeI manage to damage, I roast the whole membraneInsane, like a basehead doing cocaineI kill a farmer, plus his daughterCause I`m the E-Double, and this is manslaughterThey call us manslaughterThey call it manslaughterManslaughterVerse Four: PMDAs I stare deep into the mirror, I could only resortTo a hardcore gangsta, penile train of thoughtYou`re stomped out, you`re beat down, you go big top shitRun your trunk jewels or get, pistol whippedCause I`m too swift to slip or miss a stitch on my rap hitSleep on a sucker and you still can`t get withme bro, wit this flow and I don`t know JudoGunflow is my style, say this so that you knowThere`s no time to dance or romance with a nuisancePlay ya like a puppet to put some lead in ya pantsThen off you go to the rap rat packBe stripped of your mic, punk on your head we stamped bozackThat`s what the doctor orderedTake two of these, dead, manslaughterThey call it manslaughterThey call it manslaughterManslaughterTo the farmer and his daughter, manslaughter