|
EPMD - House Party lyrics
one minute and fourty second opening long skit which features neither Erick or Parrish * It's like this y'all IT'S LIKE THAT Y'ALL It's like this y'all IT'S LIKE THAT Y'ALL It's like this y'all IT'S LIKE THAT Y'ALL [Parrish Smith] This is the year for the barbaric and the cats with skills Underground with the hoodie fuck keepin it real While you was pissin in your bed we was makin a mill' Got up with Erick Sermon, dropped "You Gots 2 Chill" Then niggaz bugged, turned hardcore b-boy, slash thug Givin fake love, with fake hugs, to fake thugs with fake mugs, runnin they mouth with the place bugged And caught a slug, and no one see nothin but mask and gloves [Erick Sermon] Aiyyo likewise I come in strong with no disguise, ruthless It's me, transformed I'm Eazy-E Past the point of rockin the joint I'm blowin the spot, wreckin the scene with my team NFL: Niggaz For Life, so feel that I see a few clowns, so where's the steel at Me and my boys are ready, aim that and hold it steady For those who dream, believe I'm Freddie Now yo, if you got more dollars in your pocket Put a peace sign in the air if you from the South Bronx and let me hear you say Hell yeah HELL YEAH Say hell yeah HELL YEAH [Parrish Smith] Aiyyo, I grab the mic and strike, explode and ignite Off the head, reminscin about some shit last night No dough, in the pocket but that shit's alright And these faggots, always stress me so I keep my shit tight Who am I? The cat to put that ass on standby Fuck your sister, then chill with you, then tell her man hi Then start stalkin, three point shot like Hershey Hawkins Takin it back to the Seventy-Sixers like Johnny Dawkins [Erick Sermon] Yo I come through camouflaged with the Squadron entourage Lookin like ghetto superstars EPMD's the name, there's no mistaken I rob you for all you got, and keep takin The blah-blah buck off like a wild Jamaican Earthquakin and dominatin the situation Yes on the scene, the duo, thorough Lettin off, causin ruckus in five boroughs Yo this shout out goes to Brownsville, youknowhatI'msayin? On ? Avenue, Newport Garden Squadron EPMD, youknowhatI'msayin? To the Brentwood Posse, somebody just say Make money money, make money money money MAKE MONEY MONEY, MAKE MONEY MONEY MONEY Everybody say make money money, make money money money MAKE MONEY MONEY, MAKE MONEY MONEY MONEY [Parrish Smith] Yo, who grabs the mic and spit flows while you swing low I'm high off the indo, but straight up, you gets no wins though I like to ill, pop corks and watch the Mo' spill Hundred dollar bills dippin po-nine while my niggaz chill [Erick Sermon] Yo yoyoyoyoyoyoyoyo P chill chill chill Niggaz is in here fightin B Yo lounge out man, god damn, niggaz is always fuckin up shit Just put some shit on they can dance to then |
|
||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| Last added lyrics |
|---|
 Time on Earth by Crowded House |
 Call Me Irresponsible by Michael Buble |
 Version by Mark Ronson |
 Zakiya by Zakiya |
 Ghetto Classics by Jaheim |
