Underground Lyrics - Business As Usual - Epmd

Refrain: 

[Comin' straight from the Underground] 4x 

Erick Sermon: 

As I pump up a brand new funk swing 

and bring back the chill of thrill from B.B. King. 

Old fashioned is the way that I be waxin' a MC 

I bust a grill and the reaction I check 

inspect make sure the head's wrecked; 

[crunch] snap a neck for some live effects. 

A machine my functioning that's mean. 

I stay together my man like Al Green. 

I'm a slayer, the E-are-I-see-K and I'm back 

to attack a punk chump that ain't sayin' jack. 

Boom, I'm buckwild when I'm stoned, 

I close only one eye like a cyclone. 

So I throw on my black shades that's rhinestone, 

summer to my Benz that's outlined in chrome. 

I'm the Grand Royal MC, I'm no joke. 

I hit like a Phillie Blunt when it's toked. 

I smoke, an MC well-done, he gets done. 

I'm knockin' out wack MCs like Michael Nunn. 

Full-power, one punch, crunch, I'm throwin' bolos. 

I'm strapped heavy, my handguns that's solo. 

I'm packed when it's time to get down. 

'cause Erick Sermon's comin' straight from the Underground... 

Refrain 4x 

PMD: 

Okie dokie. My mind gets slow-pokey when I toke the 

bull from a Phillie Blunt and I hope me 

Old Gold is cold when I pop the cap. 

Take a sip and then blitz, then crack a back with a rhyme sack. 

'cause I'm too smooth, pay my dues, and can't lose. 

I'm Top Gun, pullin' bitches like Tom Cruise. 

And my main man, D-Wade, still gets paid. 

And in the off-season, we vacate in the shade. 

So all hail the Mary, crack the Moet, 

blast the boom-box, then act like George and Jet-son. 

'cause my style, similar to Tae Kwon Do, but hey-yo, 

I don't kick or throw stars, this brother flows 

to the funk track, with 808 drops for prop the top 

of druggin' or thuggin, D.T.s or cops. 

I say, no to blow and yes to cess and I suggest 

you put a buck on Lotto, and if you win, you should invest 

in a new grill, Bill, 'cause I rock non- until 

the Fat Lady sings, or Brooklyn starts to ill. 

There's a fat chance, with the brother bistro, 

'cause I'm the master of the quadraverb and the echo. 

There's no time to stop, so P keep on steppin' 

on the edge of the frame of the mind, the nine is the weapon. 

That I choose to squeeze when a brother acts wild. 

One slug to the head, mafioso style. 

You catch a Universal beat down with sounds that pound, 

watch yourself son, I'm comin' straight from the underground. 

Refrain 2x 

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