Epmd Richter Scale

Check one



[Erick Sermon]

Uh-huh

Yeah, aww yeah, uhh "Richter Scale"

It goes lights, camera, action Im on

One more time to kill em, my rap flow is fulfilling

I scream with the Beastie Boys -- What time is it?

Its two oclock, you gettin knocked out the box

then kicked off the block, Def Squad Hit Squad

no we wont stop, fuck it call the cops (uh-huh)

I be the invincible, in the school of hard knocks

Im the principle, Fatman Joe yknow



[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 MCs 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 dont stop, uhh!

In the field of rap, we pull rank no question

We top the "Richter Scale"

[x2]



[Erick Sermon]

Bust the techniques, E.D. fantastic

Unreal GangStarr shit, Mass Appeal

Raps top dawg, Im the one you call on

to get Sic-Wid-It, E dont forget it

Im six, two and a half, heavyset, chocolate brown

Hell of a jab, gift to gab

Im 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 Ps 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

Im the Kid, but no comparison to Billy

I aint scared of you motherfuckers -- cant you tell?

Girls lose to me when they groove to Maxwell, uhh

I got one life to live so Im 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 MCs and rhyme cyphers

More Dangerous Mind than, Michelle Pfeiffer

So skedaddle-daddle, you get rattled dont wanna battle-battle

Put one to your rhyme saddle, stompin through, like wild cattle

We flow beef so dead that, let that shit cease

Im quick with the hands, plus accurate with the two-piece



[Chorus]
[ Richter Scale Lyrics ]