Now Whut's Up Lyrics - Erick Sermon

Yo, now when you hear the name Keith Murray, don't think violence 

That's nonsense, me and Meth put that to silence 

I'm a product of the streets, master of the breaks and beats 

Lyrically headstrong and can't be beat 

Triple minded, mentally combineded underground pirate 

Microphone tyrant, always comin' sideways 

And Topsy turvy, lyrical crash-up derby 

Come, Filthy McNasty, pretty gritty dirty 

Lyrical sayin' MC slayin', 'Hip Hop Quotable' 

Unquotable, sociable thirty-eight caliber style swayin' 

Open your mind to visualize what I'm sayin' 

The products of the streets don't be playin' 

It's a bloody ambush like a dirty douche in ya tush 

When I push, push up in ya bush 

Superstar status, break off beats, the baddest 

Style's the baddest, bring extra clips to stop the madness 

Yo, we in the place 

(Now whut's up?) 

DJ, pick up the pace 

(Now whut's up?) 

Gyrate, feel the bass 

(Now whut's up?) 

What the deal, huh? 

(Now whut's up?) 

Aiyyo we ain't playin' fair no more, there's somethin' new in store 

A Hot Boy but not from the 504 

New technique to rock the mic 

Lyrical 'Blade' sharp like Wesley and N'Bushe Wright 

Soundbombin' could be a catastrophe 

When NASA blast off, Flex blast off me 

E-vincible, rap round your left ventricle 

So let's be sensible 

E temperamental, quick to dismember you 

Wyclef that 'November' you 

They wish they can do what I can do 

If you could switch brains, you would, wouldn't you? 

My style is Mike, Vince, Earvin 

Jordan, Carter, Julius, servin' 

MC's at will, I'm trickery, Lou ain't stickin' me 

A curve ball, Mark ain't hittin' me 

Yo, we in the place 

(Now whut's up?) 

DJ, pick up the pace 

(Now whut's up?) 

Gyrate, feel the bass 

(Now whut's up?) 

Yo, what the deal, huh? 

(Now whut's up?) 

Yo, rapid gunfire destroy ya boys and unemploy some 

Put the headphones on your kid like Castor Troy's son 

Darts'll damage ya dogs where the you-Haul in my truck 

The camera installed, hand upon my balls 

Call the morgue, I'm killin' 'em, even Kyle is not feelin' 'em 

When I drill 'em with skills of ten Eminems 

You feminine, don't even call my name 

I stay locked down walkin' with a ball and chain 

Put the mac where you tongue at, I done that 

These young cats'll get thumbtacked and sent where Big Pun at 

Smoke so much, the doc asked where my lung at 

I took it out to stash my gun, son run that 

Pop mega shit, I pop mega clips 

Fuck a system, I keep the heat where your Sega sit 

Then I bang the controller 'til the game say, "Over" 

In the Bricks, we'll stick ya when ya plane lays over 

Yo, we in the place 

(Now whut's up?) 

DJ, pick up the pace 

(Now whut's up?) 

Gyrate, feel the bass 

(Now whut's up?) 

What the deal, huh? 

(Now whut's up?) 

Yo, y'all know me, maniacs and addicts add it, at it 

Venomous addict snake biter, I the, at it 

'Cause I'm a little odder at it 

In the Ac' with the aircraft and then leave inactive 

My alter-ego make niggaz alter their egos 

I flow and turn the East coast to one big creep show 

South premisy, Filthy-delphia pistol bangers 

Pistol changin', pistol bangin' 

I lift metal like Lithuanians 

Two thousand nail me Sy Scott rap's new insanian 

It's humane, punish ya mayn 

'Til no skeletal remains remain remain mainly main 

To bitten man made disease that's made by man 

Crackin' the DNA code to see how God made man 

I storm the mainland, scare MC's like slave hands 

Put microchips in they wristbands and make 'em rain dance 

Lay hands like Mike Strahand 

Puttin' ya face and hands in Ace bands 

Tryin' to lift more than ya waistband 

I travel every shinin' sea, sea and land to finally see 

When niggaz land in the error era wherever, forever no error 

Easily cut niggaz careers down like ever 

Ever forever and ever, don't you ever 

Fuck with Sy, Khi and Erick when we come together, what?