Da Ill Out

[Erick Sermon]<br>Yo Reggie, I`mout<br><br>[Jamal]<br>T-ree F Squad<br>Muddy Waters<br>Don`t get it twisted... nigga<br><br>[Redman]<br>Aiyyo everybody in this motherfucker will get touched<br>Fuck such and such, I roll tight like handcuffs<br>Rock that ass to sleep with discrete techniques<br>I beez that, freak of the week like I made Knee Deep<br>Hold up! Rotate around the solar, badder than Cobra<br>Composure never sleeps, my stream pumps Folgers<br>I`m sauteein MC`s with fried rice up in the wok<br>without the MSG and chopped celery<br>See, I made it, my flavor situated<br>from the nickel plated mic that`s hot, to leave your brain inflated<br>Plus, I`m thick like Quakers on papers<br>Bodacious MC`s get turned to lower cases<br>lettering, and the medicine, that I`m swallowin<br>Get you hollerin, like Marvin Gaye when his father shot him<br>in the chest, I roll with two stacks of Tecs<br>And mad niggaz and sess that I roll up in your rest<br>UHH! Mister Fantastic`s crafted, with no 52nd ass kick<br>When I`m blasted, my Method magics get drastic<br>That you can`t see with bifocals<br>Watchin MC`s go up and down like stock brokers<br>I leave your brains on tilt, with ill skills that`s milk<br>That`s rougher than jeans that Gloria Vander-bilt<br>I`m poppin mad shit, plus I can back it<br>Your man`ll be like "Yo, get that dust off yo` jacket"<br><br>[Keith Murray]<br>It ain`t a test or quiz that my Squad can`t win<br>Those who know the biz, know we wreck kids get biz<br>Y`all digest, multiple stab wounds to the chest<br>And I copycat kill the rest, with no Method to my madness<br>Plus the apparatus with the baddest<br>Determined to be the last man, standin on the planet<br>Y`all get attached, like a blood-suckin leech<br>When you fall into my rhythm of speech<br>Your hands get embraced with a touch of the bass<br>Head get wrapped up neck get thrown in a neck brace<br>Rough rhyme mechanical, lyrical at it who?<br>Will ironically chronically murder you and your crew<br>My directive, through where I live, is kinda primitive<br>See I get to the bottom of the problem, and make shit give<br>Step in the jam, hooded and high, plastered the master<br>cast to the masses grabs the mic<br>Ten dollar rappers, is what L.O.D. goes after<br>To my Squad, there`s no matches, we bashes<br>Do photo flashes on all flavor S-classes<br>Bomb attack on wax, lyrical mini mac to your back<br>Tie you up, throw you in the act<br>A public figure, who walks around with a gin of jigger<br>Cause I gives a fuck about another nigga, word up<br><br>[Jamal]<br>Muddy Waters, yo this is the way that my intro should go<br>Drunk slow funk flow for Reggie Noble<br>Fuck with me doe, Mally G doe it`s not logic<br>Playin that big shit get broke down microscopic<br>Freak it back keep the track ringin, with the bassline<br>It`s major when you savor my flavor, can you taste mine<br>Face the nine I lace your spine with short fat pace<br>Around and round, avoidin the time to put it down<br>Now`s the time here yeah<br><br>[Erick Sermon]<br>Clown where, pick a spot<br>Neutral grounds or not, we give a fuck, lick a shot<br><br>[Jamal]<br>Gangsta, so called killin, cap peelin<br>Playalistic, I mean is all that shit realistic<br>Play your cards God, black keep your hand held tight<br>Night fall might call your life, shit is trife<br>on these evil streets after dark<br>Niggaz gettin sparked left and outlined in chalk<br>New day, this whole shit`s twisted (is it man)<br>It`s me bombin on these niggaz shitlist and Mally G<br>open your eyes to see, recognize who be a G<br>Hopin to ride in the, industry with E<br>The villain`s had it cause ahead (word up yeah)<br>Killin my psychosomatic pattern mad (yeah)<br><br>[Erick Sermon]<br>Y`all know, uhh, yeah, Muddy Waters<br>We out for nine-seven, word up, peace