Epmd Manslaughter

[PMD] Manslaughter [x4]



[Verse One: Erick Sermon]



Code name E-D, check on the one two three

Black male hard MC

Rap record slave, a brother on the scene

with a machine gun and one magazine

Wanted, a half a million for the body alone

Two million for the microphone

If you see him, dial 5 dash slayer

A hotline to the governor and mayor

Hes armed wit ammo, a weapon thats mine

All black in rap, strap tech nine

Silencer clipped, check the rip on the sneak tip

The boys about ta flip



Manslaughter [x2]

They call him manslaughter

Manslaughter



[Verse Two: PMD]



Code name MD, rappin fanatic

No short taken, black Asiatic

Hit man, keeps my belt unbuckled

Book a look on my grill with no signs of a chuckle

Or laughter, cause my name aint Casper

The Friendly Ghost, but I smoke an MC if I have to

Quick fast like Alakazoo, Alakazam

And Ill be damned, cuz my rhymes slam like Bam-Bam

Rubble, partner code name is E-Double

Its those hazel green eyes that keep my man in trouble

Girls ride the tip, brothers on his sac

I had to change my name to Bruce Wayne, also known as Bat-

Man, and grab the bozack wit this hand

As I slay ya manslaughter



Manslaughter

They call him manslaughter

Manslaughter



[Verse Three: Erick Sermon]



Mad man fully strapped and I quote

Dont flex, last chump who did, he got smoked

Undercover, not D-T but E-D

And wonder why youre spinning my records on thirty-three

Im the original, never did crime, Im no criminal

No static, pack a forty-five automatic

Black cat strapped in rap, holding my Johnson

Walking the streets, a vigilante Charles Bronson

As the beat kick, face his plate on the M1 done

Styles sharper than the blade in Shogun

First suckers disrupt the brain of a sucker MC

That cant count one two three

I manage to damage, I roast the whole membrane

Insane, like a basehead doing cocaine

I kill a farmer, plus his daughter

Cause Im the E-Double, and this is manslaughter



They call us manslaughter

They call it manslaughter

Manslaughter



[Verse Four: PMD]



As I stare deep into the mirror, I could only resort

To a hardcore gangsta, penile train of thought

Youre stomped out, youre beat down, you go big top shit

Run your trunk jewels or get, pistol whipped

Cause Im too swift to slip or miss a stitch on my rap hit

Sleep on a sucker and you still cant get with

me bro, wit this flow and I dont know Judo

Gunflow is my style, say this so that you know

Theres no time to dance or romance with a nuisance

Play ya like a puppet to put some lead in ya pants

Then off you go to the rap rat pack

Be stripped of your mic, punk on your head we stamped bozack

Thats what the doctor ordered

Take two of these, dead, manslaughter



They call it manslaughter

They call it manslaughter

Manslaughter

To the farmer and his daughter, manslaughter
[ Manslaughter Lyrics ]