Rap Is Still Outta Control Lyrics - Epmd

[Busta Rhymes] 

Rap is outta control! 

Hey, hey rap, rap (for sure dude) wait what, wait 

Hey, rap is outta control 

Hold on! 

Yeah yeah yeah yeah, yeah yeah yeah yi-yeah yeah 

Erick and Parrish, Busta Bus, check it 

This is one of my favorites 

Alright? So check it, check it 

Yeah 

Outta control 

F'real, rap is outta control, like that (For sure dude!) 

PMD, still Making Dollars 

Uh-huh, rap's outta control (For sure dude!) 

Yo, yo 

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[Erick Sermon] 

I be pulsating dominating, up above 

Run-D.M.C. style, stop and show love 

E-Dub, I can't fall off, it's no way, I'm down low 

I stay in the cut with O.J. 

The fact is, some things got to change 

with eight or more rappers that sound the same 

With the, same game, like they all in the same gang 

and claim the same fame 

Suicide victims, quick to jump off and scream I 

have to die, I'm living a lie 

Fake MC's no heart, get torn apart 

Messing with us? In ninety-nine, get smart 

I be the last one you wanna play with 

Rap committees call me, just to okay shit 

Focus on me, I grab the mic and drop gems 

on a ill rhyme, more flashier than rims 

Step in in tan Timb's, a pocket full of ends with a 

couple of friends and a couple of hens 

Never boring, keep shit rocking til morning 

with the bird, until the hawks start hawking 

Bounce with me, me and my man keep things hitting 

Hop in the Benz 2000 Benz with the CD skipping 

EPMD, who's fucking with it 

Outta control like 2Pac in Juice, character Bishop 

Who's inferior? My Squad be Def 

and we ain't hearing ya, lounge in the black interior 

Because 

Photos 

[Busta Rhymes] 

Ha! Yes ha, rap is outta control! 

Ha, hey hey rap is outta control! (for sure dude) 

Yo, hey, rap is outta control! (for sure dude) 

Hey yo, hey, rap is outta control! 

[Parrish Smith] 

Yo, they took our music and our beat and tried to make it street 

Then got in the magazine and tried to sound all sweet 

When it came to EPMD no one said a word 

So I called up Erick Sermon and said, "This shit's absurd!" 

Now we flip the bird, back-breaking MC's down like herbs 

Redlining, bending my chrome rims up on curbs 

So can you make a bill and chill and survive in the rap field? 

Flip deals, and cock back burners when the caps peel? 

I don't think so, then come next the car repo 

No mo' contract, just strictly handyman in Home Depot 

So don't front for me or the E, cause you know our steez 

EPMD, blazing shit, Def 2G's 

Cause we make tape and break MC's who wannabees 

and gonna-beez, burn em down to third degrees 

You heard of me, ain't no one checking or serving me 

I'll turn your 411 into the 911 emergency 

Surgeon see 

[Busta Rhymes] 

rap is outta control! 

Hey, hey rap, rap wait, what wait (for sure dude) 

Hey, rap is outta control! Hold on 

Wait wait, rap rap is outta control! 

And yes yes y'all (yes y'all) hey, yes y'all (yes y'all) 

hey yo kick it E! 

[Erick Sermon] 

I stand tall I won't fall, I recall 

your rhymes stall when you bust caps 

Make sure they krytonite caps 

I'm made of steel, I swat bullets like gnats 

I'm like, Superman, fly high, 

way up in the sky 

And if you try to shoot me down clown I won't die 

I cremate 

[Parrish Smith] 

I hate, let's exterminate 

Wait for a second E, time to debate 

As we take our Fisherman hat off, there's no time to max 

on the crab MC, who's all on the bozack 

who knows that, 2000 Benz to shows that 

yo, sold out crowd, where's the hoes at? 

And the Old Gold black, icy cold fat 

Wack MC's yo, where's your clothes at? 

End the drama, that's word to your momma