Redman — Da Ill Out

[Intro: Erick Sermon] Yo Reggie, uh D-E-F Squad Muddy Waters Don't get it twisted, nigga [Verse 1: Redman] Ayo, everybody in this motherfucker will get touched Fuck such and such, I roll tight like handcuffs Rock that ass to sleep with discrete techniques I beez that, Freak of the Week like I made Knee Deep Hold up! Rotate around the solar, Madder than Cobra Composure never sleeps, my stream pumps Folgers I'm sautéein' MC's with fried rice up in the wok Without the MSG and chopped celery See, I made it, my flavor situated From the nickel plated mic that's hot, to leave your brain inflated Plus, I'm thick like Quakers on papers Bodacious MC's get turned to lower cases Lettering, and the medicine, that I'm swallowin Get you hollerin', like Marvin Gaye When his father shot him in the chest I roll with two stacks of TECs And mad niggas in sets that'll roll up in your rest, UHH! Mister Fantastic's crafted off that 50 sack of ass kick When I'm blasted, my mathematics get drastic That you can't see with bifocals Watchin MC's go up and down like stock brokers I leave your brains on tilt, with ill skills that's milk That's rougher than jeans that Gloria Vanderbilt I'm poppin mad shit, plus I can back it Your man'll be like "Yo, get that dust off yo' jacket" [Verse 2: Keith Murray] It ain't a test or quiz that my Squad can win Those who know the biz, know we rap kids, get biz You'll digest, multiple stab wounds to the chest Then I copycat, kill the rest With no method to my madness Bless the apparatus with the baddest Determined to be the last man, standing on the planet You'll get attached, like a blood sucking leech When you fall into my rhythm of speech Your ears get embraced with a touch of the bass Head get wrapped up, neck get thrown in a neck brace Rough rhyme mechanical, lyrical at it who? Will ironically chronically murder you and your crew My objective, the way I live, is kinda primitive See I get to the bottom of the problem, and make shit give Step in the jam, hooded and high, plastered the master Cast to the masses, grabs the mic Ten dollar rappers is what L.O.D. goes after (Tweek, Tweek) To my Squad, there's no matches, we mashes Do photo flashes in all flavor S-classes Bomb attack on wax, lyrical mini Mac to your back Tie you up, throw you in the Ac' A public figure, who walks around with a jaded jigger 'Cause I gives a fuck about another nigga, word up [Verse 3: Jamal & (Erick Sermon)] Muddy Waters, yo this is the way that my intro should go Drunk slow funk flow for Reggie Noble Fuck with me doe, Mally G doe it's not logic Playing that big shit get broke down microscopic Bring it back keep the track ringing, with the bassline It's major when you savor my flavor, can you taste mine Face the nine I lace your spine with short fat pace Around and round, avoiding the time to put it down Now's the time here, yeah (Clown where, pick a spot Neutral grounds or not, we give a fuck, lick a shot) Gangsta, so called killin', cap peelin', playalistic I mean, is all that shit realistic? Play your cards, God, black keep your hand held tight Nightfall might call your life, shit is trife On these evil streets after dark Niggas gettin sparked left and outlined in chalk New day, seriously, this whole shit's twisted...(As a man) It's me bombin' on these niggas shitlisted, Mally G Open your eyes to see, recognize who be a G Hopin' to rise in thee, industry with E The villain's at it 'cause I had it (Word up, yeah) Killin' my psychosomatic pattern rhythmatic (Yeah) [Outro: Erick Sermon] Y'all know, uhh, yeah Muddy Waters, we out for '97 Word up, peace