1.Boon Dox
(chorus)
Coming straight from the boon dox(3x)
(pmd)
Coming straight from the boon dox, when my tune stomps like
sasquatch
You better slow down cuz i'm top notch
Wit the be-bop, can't you see hopps
Yo, i'm swinging wild, g, chill or catch a speed knock
For crying out loud, my style is buckwhyled
Straight from strong isle, peace to the ooh child
A true troop, rugged, stomp in tims boots
No static, ---- uncle sam, i got mad loot
So back up off me, break north you see
I wreck a party in half and then i'm swayze
Rap maniac, brainiac on a fly track
？i've got to zap all those？ who's grabbing my bozack
But it's mine, einstein, just like the nine
Rockin my jock, loaded for primetime
I'm on a roll and the mic doc just can't stop
Bust it, coming straight from the boon dox
Chorus
(erick sermon)
1, 2, 1, 2, mic check and i'm packed wit the fire weapon
No half steppin, my nine, a black tech and
Uzi, i'm psycho crazy
Don't ever try to do me, baby
Yea, i'm still wrecking house, so what's up and a
I stuck a nigga in his gut
I'm ？rougest？ competition, never outlasting
(what happen e-d)yo, i waxed ugly bastards
I took a stick of dynamite and blew 'em up, right
Then boom, i knock em out like mike
I throw a clean fight, can't leave it messy
My blow is super like joe pesci
Before i break out, let's make a toast
And after i'm finish my drink then e's ghost
So mr. bartender, give me a scotch on the rock
(where you coming, e) i'm saying peace from the boon dox
Chorus
(p： pmd, e： erick sermon, b： both)
(p)now what (e) i know what
(p)boy, your mouth shut
(e)so get these (what) nuts because the squad's butt
(p)popping ying-yang, no skills wit the hand swing
(e)another hit from the sqaud (b) it's a small thing
(p)？from the joys of funk, bunk？ and make you jump
(e)and pump your hands in the air
(b)soul like a speed bump
(b)down wit def jam
(e)？those scabs rule records, man？
(p)thanks to lyor cohen (e) and russell simmons
(p)yea, but for now child (woo, woo) bow wow
(b)crazy phillie, that's the goal now, boon dox
2.Can't Hear Nothing But The Music
(pmd)
It's a fact, i'm mad hard like a jail yard
I'm sick, slow, call me a retard
Can't hear nothing but the music, i'm slippin
Dark as hell and water drippin
Parrish smith, mentally sick
Serial rap killer like dave berkowitz
Yes, the son of sam and i'll be godamn
So take the force and get the balls and watch me slam, man
The exquisite rap wizard from the boon dox
My tune knock watts, been known to cause brain lock
Wit no riff raff, smooth like shaft
Breaking bones in the rap zone, chill or get smoked mad fast
Can't stop us from buggin because we're trippin
Can't hear nothing but the music, i'm slippin
(chorus)
Can't hear nothing but the music, i'm slippin(4x)
(erick sermon)
Breaker 1, 9, breaker, 1, 9, mayday
Call for backup, it's erick sermon's payday
No illusion, just mass confusion
Dull raps, i dutch them, from the funk production
I, the afromerican, black citizen
To make you scream loud as hell like sam kinison
No one can stop me
Dun na na na na na, like rocky
The combination, the jab, the uppercut
Mad footwork from the rapper expert
Bust a move, i'm worth about a million cash bucks
Say what, damn right, shut the hell up
I fought mc's word up and watch em grown up
Play em like dunkin, then pass out doughnuts
Then i freak the funky style and i use it
Md and hear nothing but the music
Chorus
(pmd)
What's this, another funky hit from the hit squad, kid
I get mad props like sonny crockett
You know it's the smooth rap flow that clocks the p doe
Can't stop now (why) cuz i'm diesel
Epmd back in effect on your rap set
Fourth cassette, more deadly than a bomb threat
Can't stop us from buggin because we're trippin
Can't hear nothing but the music, i'm slippin
(erick sermon)
Slate take two, action, the main attraction
(who's bad) i'm bad like michael jackson
Got more tricks than any kung fu flick
Understand, i'm ruff and tuff like jackie chan
My technique, the drunken mic, grasp it right
I'm teaching (p-s-y-c-h-e) psyche
I'm slammin, the dopest nigga from the underground
Out the basement, now world renown
Rocking systems, cuss and jock a victim
If we catch flack from a punk and then we diss him
Then i freak a funky style and i use it
Kid, and hear nothing but the music
Chorus
3.Chill
Chill...
Yeaaaa, hahahaha
(erick sermon)
Equip wit the rap microchip
Program, aptitude, one mo return, oh ----
My face in the magazines, showing my eyes green
(chill...) chill, fresh new dip when i'm seen
Yo, dig, it's the new fig for the e-double
I pack a mac 10 just in case of trouble
Hot like the handle on a pot, i'm steaming
Fame and more glory than morgan freeman
I'm the original, my style's deformed
So it can sound crazy ill when i perform
Yea, check 1, 2, mic supreme
Epmd, the rap american dream team
The e-double's definitely no joke
You can't see me, even wit the microphone
I'm massive dope, funky, who's deffer
Yo, when i express myself like salt 'n pepa
Erick sermon and parrish smith
The sickest, the wickest, crazy mad psycho, the slickest
Hardcore rhymin, yea, that's the ticket
Buckwhylin, ruff enuff for long island
Chill.... yeaaaaaa, hahahaha....
Ruff enuff to rock new york to long island
(pmd)
Back up, boy, move easy wit the hand motion
Don't even blink, kid, or i'ma start smoking
The glock hammer's cocked wit the speed jock
12 shots, the bust target is the brown fox
So call me smooth talk rhyme, jaywalk wit the slang talk
B-boy fanatic, straight from new york
The foundation, landmark of the rap scene
Epmd in effect, i'm clocking mad green
Like kermit the frog, sloppy like boss hog
Girls runnin wild, ？paid tho' like a klondar？
For mics are ready to flow in slow mo'
Know the rap game just like bo knows hoes
(yeaaaa, hahahaha)hard, you get scarred, messing wit the hit
squad
Slide easy or catch a bullshucks charge
No time to ill, stay mental or puff a pill
Get the macadamians, and, oh, yea, kid, chill
Chill.... yeaaaa, hahahaha....
Ruff enuff to rock new york to long island....
4.Crossover
(erick sermon)
Erick sermon's in the house
Let's get up, let's get down
Roll wit the hardcore funk, the hardcore sound
Let's get wit this, mackadocious funk material
So simple, when i rock wit the instrumental
Who am i (e-d the green eyed bandit)
Control my career so i can never get stranded
But the rest are gettin brand nubian
Changed up they style, from jeans to suits and
Thinkin about a pop record, somethin made for the station
For a whole new relation-
Ship of a new type of scene
To go platinum and clock mad green
Aka, a sellout, the rap definition
Get off that boy, change your mission
Come back around the block
Pump color me badd to the ah, tick tock
Let them know your logo, not a black thing
My background sing, my background sing for the crossover
The crossover
(pmd)
The rap era's outta control, brother's sellin their soul
To go gold, going, going, gone, another rapper sold
(to who) to pop and r＆b, not the md
I'm strictly hip-hop, i'll stick to kid capri
Funk mode, yea, kid, that's how the squad rolls
I know your head is bobbin cuz the neck knows
(not like other rappers) frontin on they fans, the ill
Trying to chill, saying 'damn, it be great to sell a mill'
Thats when the mind switch to the pop tip
(kid, you're gonna be large)
Yea right, that's what the company kicks
Forget the black crowds, you're wack now
In a zoot suit, frontin black lookin mad foul
I speak for the hardcore (ruff, rugged and raw)
I'm outta here, catch me chillin on my next tour
From the us to the white cliffs of dover
Strictly underground funk, keep the crossover
The crossover
(erick sermon)
(so what cha sayin) you wanna go pop goes the weasel
You know you should be rocking the fans wit something diezel
But you insist to piss me off black
So i flex the biceps so i can push em back
So real hardcore hip-hop continue wreck it
And all sucker mc's duck down and get the message
So ban the crossover, yo, who's wit me
(hit squad) yea, p, hit me
(pmd)
Another megablast, funky dope style from cross yonder
(so help me rhonda, help, help me rhonda)
(yo, from what) the crossover, yea crossing you over
Outta here, gone, peace, nice to know ya (see ya)
What a way to go out, no clout is what the fans will shout
Cuz you got gassed and took the wrong route
Came on the scene, chillin, freakin a funky dope line
But when they finish wit you (beep) flatline
Some say there's no business like show business
But if this the truth, please explain why is this
Rappers been around long, makin mad noise you see
Still i haven't seen one rapper livin comfortably
No time to pick and wish on a four leaf clover
I stick to underground, keep the crossover
The crossover
5.Cummin' At Cha
Verse one：erick sermon
Yes, return the last dragon, balls of fire
Back to attack, and sharp like barbed wire
The ruff rugged male human black alien
My style's, foreign, compared to an israelian
I rock, and shock a new style
Hardcore's the profile, i bust a cap for the buckwild
I'm back in effect, how's that？
I'm not teddy riley but i'm swingin like a new jack
You know me so yo check my flow g
I rock 48 hours like nick nolte
And for your information...
I found wack mc's camps and do em like jason
Yeah, doyouknow what they call me？
E double who raps off the walls see
I work out, yeah i do my fitness
So i can find a mistress, while i'm in the business
A gold digger, with the hourglass figure (why？)
'i'm feelin sad,' damn nigga!
Now i'm rockin the house with das efx
＊they want efx＊, yeah some live effects
M.d. got my back, so i'm goin for mine
So watch it, or pop pop pop goes my nine
Verse two： parrish smith
Here we here we go... (who？) slow flow so watch the head blow
No rules in the rap game, i'm throwin elbows
(the name) mic doc (say what？) this is hip-hop
Roll with the hit squad, stomp like the go-bots
(shiggedy shots bust) parrish smith rocks the spot
Pumps em off the block, hits because my tune knocks
Tower down over suckers next is das efx
(biggedy mic check um, one two check uhh
I think i wann rock it m.d.) ok drayz bet
Time to exit, yo, so i'm out there
If you want me you can find me at the crib
Still gettin mine rippin rhymes on the mainline
Don't play me or pop goes the nine
Verse three： drayz, skoob
Biggedy bang yowza, higgedy howabout a mic wrecker
I biggedy break a back, i'm black and i can decker
Nigga, ya figgedy figure the, way i kick it
I'm dashin, i stiggedy stuck johnny for his cash and
I trashed him, i miggedy made the bastard look sloppy
Copy, i pack a nine if you try to stop me
Niggedy i'm the bungle, i'm swingin it from the left so tell the
chef
Boy-ar-dee's niggaz nice, and plus i'm def
Tiggedy take your life asthma, the jibbedy jibber jabber ruff
rapper
I wreck it then i step like a ladder
So add a, niggedy nother page into my rap book
I strike like, the weapon or a mother at the crack book
I giggedy give a fender, figgedy bender, to a tender, roni
Lik umm, chachi, then joni
She'll stagger, when i move my lips like mick jagger
She'll go goo-goo, gah-gah, they call me ali baba
The jibbedy jibber jabber, jibbedy jibber jabber, jaw
Riggedy wreck it quick and get, raw
I'm thiggedy throwin the slang, like a boomer-rang
Kill the rumor, bang, i steal a show like i used to steal puma's
Then i rock it, a topic from the sewer or the trash can
I'm niggedy not the video game, but i'm like pac man
I'm slick right, i got more dick than van dyke
Liggedy let the nines clap, cause i'm back to the manpike
6.Head Banger
Parrish smith gettin wreck
Verse one： parrish smith
Ka-rank the boombox as my sound knock from blocks
As i chill, and bust grills you take snapshots
Of the maniac, dressed in black, carry round a strap
Kid you play me too close (slow down and catch a cap, pow!!)
Cause i don't play games, an outlaw like jesse james
To hell with the bitches and the so-called fame (uh-huh)
Strictly biz to hard (kid yeah) as i climb charts
Bustin ass daily as i compose like mozart
Just stand, say you're mad damn, why him？
Z-oh-one tonka, five-sixty benz
I'm sick and mad deep no shorts and no sleep
I'm bugged like a tapped phone, hard like concrete
So get a grip and don't slip or catch a clip
From the infrared aimed at your head as i blast my target
The bozack, i rip up flows that
Make an mc stop and chill and say he's all that
Hardcore no r＆b singer
Roll with the hit squad... down with the head banger
'yeahhh, head crack, head crack' -- grand puba, slow down
Erick sermon break it down
'yeahhh, head crack, head crack'
Verse two： erick sermon
Surprise, you wonder where i've been, i've been workin
But sounds makin danger, and black birds chirpin
A real damian, omen possessed by the devil
You dig the rhythm, and i'll play the runnin rebel
Changed my style, so i can freak the funk
Yo pass the philly, hit squad spark the blunt
I got the power, to ramshack a stadium
Wubba wubba, even judy brown the palladium
Yo, i'm from the boondocks so i knows the flavor (yeah, yeah)
Sometimes i curse but now, i show behavior
Epmd, yo, is in this to win this
A brand new lp so mind your business
No jokin, i'm gettin paid fully
You wanna buy the cassette, stop by sam goody
Yo where's my hoodie？ i wanna be hard and cause some ruckus
Talk with the b-boy slang and blast some suckers
Walk like an egyptian, rough crackin my steel
Plus i'm goin to court, make my own appeal
As taught as a kid or told, never talk to a stranger
Cause i could be a head banger
'yeahhh, head crack, head crack' -- grand puba, slow down
K-solo!!!
'yeahhh, head crack, head crack'
Verse three： k-solo
I'm the original rap criminal (yeahhhhh)
My shots, spell spray (hoo-ahhhh) duck leaves my trigger finger
digital
My gun'll make, many men, things you did when i get mad
And pissed cause i can make him my target
Braggin em taggin em draggin em mad hollow-point rhymes in my
mic
Choose smith or assault over magnum (huh)
So back up off me, here's a clip
For uzis and guns, and then you faggots gonna off me
I'm sure you know the deal that my nine can box
I knock punks out quick like evander holyfield
More rhymes than music's, my solution
Subscribers of my style here's a contribution
Let's say you want a shovel layer parkin mc's like cars
And drivin mc's away
Tanks gon be full, to rappers wanna tempt me
I break the steering shift and leave em empty
Cause they can't go, so i'ma call a hoe tow truck
To come tow truck your weak side show
Back on the scene is the incredible one man team
When i get mad i turn green
The fugitive's gone peace, i'm outta here later
And here's a finger, to all you non movin spectators
'yeahhh, head crack, head crack' -- grand puba, slow down
Redman get down!
'yeahhh, head crack, head crack'
Verse four： redman
Surprise niggaz! the original p-funk funks you up
I take a hit from a spliff then i get biz with the new cut
Because i can jam like teddy if you let me
A goodfella but still rugged like joe pesci
My style is mad funka-to-the-delic with the irrelevant
Shit that i kick backflips any four bitch (yeah)
Deduct and i dip then i switch
To an incredible nigga with a ＊nickle＊ nine on the hip
I always got played by a honeydip
But now i'm on the money tip so now i call the honeydip honey
bitch
And swing hardcore because that's where i come from (yeah)
I rock ya like chubb, and burn scrubs like a dum-dum
Remember redman, last album i was hardcore
Now i'm back to tear the frame out your asscrack
Cause i get wreck, with the tec, with the blunt or moet
And what you see is what you get and what you're gettin is your
Ass kicked, nigga, hit you with the funkdafied figure
Like a plus funk, funk times stuffed in your back trunk punk
Yes the redman that's what they call me
Wicked with the style you think i have cerebral palsy
Like aaieeahaaa, cause i freak the styles crazy
Lullaby your stupid ass, rockabye baby
The funkadelic devil hit your ass with a level from the new
school
And still holdin my jewels!
'yeahhh, head crack, head crack' -- grand puba, slow down
'yeahhh, head crack, head crack'
'yeahhh, head crack, head crack' -- grand puba, slow down
'yeahhh, head crack, head crack'
'yeahhh, head crack, head crack' -- grand puba, slow down
'yeahhh, head crack, head crack'
7.It's Going Down
Owww!
Get on down (repeat 3x)
Verse one：erick sermon
Well, it's the e wit the juice, i'm down to get loose
Strapped in black wit the nine by the boots
Hardcore funk that make ya wanna pump a chump
My posse's thick, so i will never get jumped
The slayer, a beast from the east, i'm psycho
If i had a glove, i would be bad as michael
Some say, yo, i sound rugged
Pack wit the ultimate rap wit the power like snap
A.k.a. the mic wrecker
A rap star wit the boomin style, black as tar
Smokin, the e's no jokin, so don't trip or flip
And make a hit, so bust it
Some ain't feel the way i do when i get wreck
No half steppin, i kick back like a weapon
On the microphone, i delight
And groovy, a california quake couldn't move me
Get on down (repeat 4x)
It's going down (2x)
Verse two： pmd
No lights, no camera, but lots of action
No moonwalkin backwards, kid, like michael jackson
Strictly funk flows and steel toed timb boots to troop
State to state, stage to stage, as i clock loot
Black asiatic, rapper fanatic, automatic
Black nine mil is what i pack so kill the static
Epmd quench the sound of thumps underground
Ya stupid boy, no props here, you catch a beatdown
The squad still in effect, no record skippin
Ya stupid boy, keep the track, still bullshittin
Down wit the rap pack, still grabbin my bozack
Here's a ticket kid to ride the jim like amtrak
Got mad skills, hi-tech, been known to snap necks
From eighty-seven to ninety-two, fourth cassette
But now i'm swayze, ghost, the rap host
Who rip shows, from coast to coast
Get on down (repeat 4x)
It's going down (2x)
Verse three： erick sermon, pmd
Yea, back to the picture, the scene
It's me erick sermon, my m-16
Just in case, ya know, a fight broke out
I can just chill, pull out the smoke out
One, no grill, no charcoal, no fluid
Act like bo jackson, nike, and just do it
If there's a problem, the hit squad rolls mad deep
So i can rest my head and get some sleep
While the e-double, takes a nap, no time to slack
It's my turn to guard the fort, ready for combat
Guns and violence, that we don't promote
Just takin what's ours kid, chill or smell the gunsmoke
As i pull out, squeezin like mr. charmin
Destroyin posses of demo tapes like agent orange
So chill kid and act like you know
Peace from the md a.k.a. slow flow
It's going down (4x)
Get on down...
8.Nobody's Safe Chump
(erick sermon)
Ah yeah, it's the home of the microphone master, houdini
I'm dope, some don't believe me
Unless, i stress and bust a cap from steel
Aim for the dome, show em that i'm real hardcore
The underground rapper who's wrecking
I pack a smith and wesson on my right section
I'm strappep, at all time, jack
Nine mills to gap, for a punk suck new jack
I must stay focus and keep my mind open
The world's mass confusion, there mad guns smoking
For punks trying to get respect and yearning
Mess around and catch a bad one from erick sermon
I'm serious, boy, but not jermaine jackson
I also have a 12 gauge shotgun for action
So chill, back the hell up and get a grip
Get off that, thinking that you're all that real quick
Like the rude boys said
It's written all over your face, punk, nobody's safe
Nobody's safe chump, so keep your doors locked(4x)
(pmd)
It's the hardcore rap music that make your ears ring
？joys of funk？, produce a song to make my fans sing
Singing, swinging, hum along, thump my rap song
I bet i get wreck on a dl, then the p's gone
Poof, no phonebooth, cape, or tight suit
Dress in all black, black skullcap, black down goose
To hide the mockbird, word, wit the pistol grip
Squeeze em quick, show who's crossing wit the loose lip
Cuz loose lips sink ships, don't need a ship to catch a nine
clip
I ain't going out on some bull----
Bankshot, corner pocket, now watch me rock it
Can't mock the rap style so, boy, stop it
(so what's the name)john doe, 'k it's a slow flow
？swiss miff？, crazy, the boy's loco
Like neon deion sanders, call him primetime
(it's the new style) time to get mine
Cuz nobody's safe in the fast pace of the rap race
So keep your hoodies on and your boots laced
Now i'm out, beaming back to the boon dox
Nobody's safe chump, so keep your doors locked
9.Play The Next Man
(erick sermon)
What's up wit that homegirl, why you frontin
My raggamuffin, c'mon, help me wit somethin
You like me, i can tell by your wicked actions
I wanna rock wit you like michael jackson
(coughing) erick, what slow down, baby
You're not seal, so why you actin crazy
I wanna be your man, the whole nine sounds cute
Us buggin out, and us knockin boots
But you, you wanna go out and start cheatin
Hangin tough like the new kids every damn weekend
Thinkin i'm stupid, girl, you must be buggin
The boy you messin wit is my cousin
Tryin to play the e-double wit the old weak flim flam
Don't play me and reach out for the next man
(chorus)
Don't play me, play the next man (4x)
(pmd)
I was wonderin why you went to work everyday
Ok, yea, maybe to get extra pay
But when you stepped out, you was dressed to impress
(how fresh) so fresh, that you walked wit finesse
Word is bond, i could've sworn you was minglin
The way you was movin, the way your earrings was jinglin
Of course, you was messin wit the boss
Not bruce springsteen, your boss drove a porsche
Remember, you went to work one night
While me and d-wade was home watchin the mike tyson fight
You said goodbye, gave me a couple of kisses
I peep the coat i didn't buy you for christmas
You went out to a fancy restaurant
Came in actin all nonchalant
Asked you a question, shook up like elvis presley
Your makeup smudged, your hair messy
Shh, quiet, i caught cha
Tell him my name is parrish smith, i used to mess wit his
daughter
Yes the mic doc and i'll be damned
Don't play me, play the next man
Chorus
(p： pmd, e： erick sermon, b： both)
(p)now if ya girl's on your back jack, cut her like a lumberjack
(cut her off, cut her off)
(e)and if your man done son, trade him in for a new one
(cut him off man, cut him off)
(repeat)
(p)so if ya man is runnin wild, slow em down, school em jack
(e)before he plays you off, girl (p) just to prove a fact
(e)and get your feelings hurt kid (p) plus your heart broken
(b)bust it ('can't truss it!')
(p)what (e) a relationship (p) friendship
(e)hardship (p) fell on the booze when ya boy tripped
(e)so pick ya pride up boy (p) oopsy daisy
(p)see ya (e) audi ghost patrick swayze
10.Scratch Bring It Back(Part 2-Mic Doc)
Chorus：busta rhymes
Rewind...
Heal up, real up, bring it back, come rewind...
Now about to wreck shop is the man wit the plan
Godamn, yo, watch me slam
Taking the bassline, freaking my lines
Squeezing my reebox's pumps and kriss kross then jump
Way behind the track so i sound smooth and rugged
Pumped it for the hit squad, yo, they cold dugged it
You know my style, man, yo, check the stats
Down wit the mic doc, my dj is scratch
Straight from brooklyn, albany projects
He gets respect when he's rocking wit the set
He goes crazy, maybe goes into a rampage
Yo, but don't be afraid
Can produce hard tracks like this
But don't shut him down, put him on the funk list
Live in color, a smooth brother
If i had to pick a dj, i couldn't, word to mother
So george, hit me wit the funk scratch
Then after that black, come back and rewind that
George, hit me wit the funk scratch
Then after that, yo, come back then rewind that
Chorus
I'm def, it's my turn
Freakin a new style, flippin this new style over the track
I'm all that, down, rippin
All over the place, yea, check em
(yo, yo, yo, yo, md, yo, hold up money grip
Yo get off that bullshucks
Rip the hardcore style for the b-boy niggas,
Yknowimsayin, hit me wit that funk)
Record mode, set the eq for dolby
Step back, check yaself, punk, you don't know me
I flow, g, (say what) multi mil see
Brother on fade to black, yo!, and bet
For my grill in the source wit the record force
A1 choice, the golden voice taking no loss
The name is mic doc, don't forget it hop
The kid from up the block, the tape's kicking ya boom box
From the boon dox, the powerhouse on the rap route
So make way, time to roll out
Can you wind it and mine, primetime
He got me illin, so hit me wit a (rewind)
Now bring it back, bust that wisecrack
Damn, it's been 5 years, kid, you're still on my bozack
Shockin p, clockin p, when i'm rockin see
You're not parrish smith, so why you mockin me
You're just a wannabe, you wanna be me
Sell for millions, until then, get the nuts, g
No time to battle rap, f that
I'm pushing maximum level, so smell the smoke from my mic, black
I'm outta here, peace to the hardcore
Bring in the hook while scratch is cuttin like a chainsaw
'my style... deadly psychopath, schizophrenic'
'don't forget i'm... crazy swift'
'how can a brother be so nice' -- 2x
'master on the beatdown'
'huh forget it i'm constipated'
11.Who Killed Jane
Intro／chorus：
Ooooooohhhhh...
(repeat 4x)
E - who killed jane, who killed jane？
P - not the squad kid, i think we've been framed
Verse one：
E - who killed jane？
P - not the squad yo, we've been framed
The charge
E - murder one son for the death of jane
P - murder？
E - yeah homicide kid time to take a ride
P - where？
E - downtown
P - for what？
E - to check your alibi
P - must get deep and think quick, bang a set-up
Let met get my coat
E - alright move slow when you get up
P - pt's in my crib, k9's in the front lawn
First thought's to wild, second thought to stay calm
E - you have the right to remain silent
P - cool with the roughness, i ain't violent
Reached for his nine mil, partner started smiling
E - shut up mulley, turn around and keep your mouth shut
P - peep the neighbor's starin as he reached for his handcuffs
Threw on the bracers squeeze tight to increase the pain
Thinkin to myself, damn... who killed jane？
Chorus
Verse two：
P - they got me downtown, starin at four walls with one call
Been set-up like a roadblock, can't take a bad fall
E - sit up straight, state your name and your birthdate
And your whereabouts last night about eight
P - slow down
E - slow down？
P - something's missing, where's my lawyer？
Cop grilled me and said
E - yo there's your lawyer
Things'll get rough so don't get tough and try to play games
You're headed up north
P - for what？
E - you know homeboy, the death of jane
P - you must be insane with no brains sniffin cocaine
And if i caught a body it'd be yours and not jane
E - or mr. toughy, you wish you had a nine to bust me
I'm mad as hell, i don't play, my name ain't dougie
P - cop got pissed, and stepped back, then grabbed his blackjack
Swung for my dome, ducked and caught my damn back
E - ooohhhh
P - couldn't feel the pain
E - whhhhyyy？
P - thinkin bout the payback
Chorus
Verse three：
P - now it's person so whassup？
E - whassup？
P - whatyou wanna know？
E - who killed jane？
P - ok i tell you first i gotta go
E - where？
P - check leakage
E - leakage？
P - yeah you know the john
E - take him downstairs and watch him make sure you're armed
P - cop grabbed me by my neck pushed me towards the damn door
See my homies, locked down on the same floor
E - so you wanna be a killer and run the streets bro？
P - didn't respond, just chilled to play his ego
Stepped in the men's room, still filthy from the ill broom
E - hurry up and take a piss and stop stallin you damn goon
P - that was the wrong move, how stupid, time to go for mine
Not glacial time, but the black nine
Gotta clear my name, been framed for the death of jane
Must make my move now or it's ball and chain
Chorus
Verse four：
P - with the iron, started firing, to let him know i'm serious
Black, don't play hero cause all youse get is a flag and cap
E - easy partner, chill put the gun down
P - oh now you tryin to play me out like homey the clown
And you know homey don't play that
E - play what？
＊blam＊
P - see, see？
E - jim, come back, the mooley shot me...
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