Текст (слова) песни «Chill»

Chill...
Yeaaaa hahahaha
(Erick Sermon)
Equip wit the rap microchip
Program aptitude one mo return oh
My face in the magazines showing my eyes green
(Chill...) Chill fresh new dip when I'm seen
Yo dig it's the new fig for the E Double
I pack a Mac 10 just in case of trouble
Hot like the handle on a pot I'm steaming
Fame and more glory than Morgan Freeman
I'm the original my style's deformed
So it can sound crazy ill when I perform
Yea, check 1, 2, mic supreme
EPMD, the rap American Dream Team
The E-Double's definitely no joke
You can't see me, even wit the microphone
I'm massive dope, funky, who's deffer
Yo, when I express myself like Salt 'N Pepa
Erick Sermon and Parrish Smith
The sickest, the wickest, crazy mad psycho, the slickest
Hardcore rhymin, yea, that's the ticket
Buckwhylin, ruff enuff for Long Island

Chill.... Yeaaaaaa, Hahahaha....
Ruff enuff to rock New York to Long Island
(PMD)
Back up, boy, move easy wit the hand motion
Don't even blink, kid, or I'ma start smoking
The glock hammer's cocked wit the speed jock
12 shots, the bust target is the brown fox
So call me smooth talk rhyme, jaywalk wit the slang talk
B-boy fanatic, straight from New York
The foundation, landmark of the rap scene
EPMD in effect, I'm clocking mad green
Like Kermit the Frog, sloppy like Boss Hog
Girls runnin wild, ?paid tho' like a klondar?
For mics are ready to flow in slow mo'
Know the rap game just like Bo knows hoes
(Yeaaaa, hahahaha)Hard, you get scarred, messing wit the Hit Squad
Slide easy or catch a bullshucks charge
No time to ill, stay mental or puff a pill
Get the macadamians, and, oh, yea, kid, chill
Chill.... Yeaaaa, hahahaha....
Ruff enuff to rock New York to Long Island....