Manslaughter

Lyrics

[Intro: PMD] Manslaughter Manslaughter Manslaughter [Verse 1: Erick Sermon] Code name ED, check on the one, two, three Black male, hard MC Rap record slave, a brother on the scene With a machine gun and one magazine Wanted, a half a million for the body alone Two million for the microphone If you see him, dial five-dash-slayer A hotline to the governor and mayor He's armed with ammo, a weapon that's mine All black in rap, strap TEC-9 Silencer clipped, check the rip on the sneak tip The boy's about to flip [Chorus] Manslaughter Manslaughter They call him manslaughter Manslaughter [Verse 2: PMD] Code name MD, rappin' fanatic No short taken, Black Asiatic Hit man, keeps my belt unbuckled Book a look on my grill with no signs of a chuckle Or laughter, 'cause my name ain't Casper The Friendly Ghost, but I smoke an MC if I have to Quick fast like alakazoo, alakazam And I'll be damned, 'cause my rhymes slam like Bamm-Bamm Rubble, partner code name is E Double It's those hazel green eyes that keep my man in trouble Girls ride the tip, brothers on his sack Had to change my name to Bruce Wayne, also known as Batman And grab the bozack with this hand As I slay ya, manslaughter [Chorus] Manslaughter They call him manslaughter Manslaughter [Verse 3: Erick Sermon] Mad man, fully strapped, and I quote Don't flex, last chump who did, he got smoked Undercover, not DT, but ED And wonder why you're spinnin' my records on thirty-three I'm the original, never did crime, I'm no criminal No static, pack a 45 automatic Black cat strapped with raps, holding my johnson Walkin' the streets, a vigilante Charles Bronson As the beat kick, face his plate on the M1 done Style's sharper than a blade in Shogun First suckers disrupt the brain of a sucker MC That can't count one, two, three I manage to damage or roast the whole membrane Insane like a basehead doing cocaine I kill a farmer plus his daughter 'Cause I'm the E Double and this is manslaughter [Chorus] They call us manslaughter They call it manslaughter Manslaughter [Verse 4: PMD] As I stare deep into the mirror, I could only resort To a hardcore gangster penile train of thought You're stomped out, you're beat down, you go big top shit Run your trunk jewels or get pistol whipped 'Cause I'm too swift to slip or miss a stitch on my rap hit Sleep on a sucker and you still can't get with Me, bro, with this flow and I don't know judo Gun Fu is my style, say this so that you know There's no time to dance or romance with a nuisance Play ya like a puppet to put some lead in ya pants Then off you go to the rap rat pack We stripped of your mic, punk, and on your head, we stamped bozack That's what the doctor ordered Take two of these, dead, manslaughter [Chorus] They call it manslaughter They call it manslaughter Manslaughter To the farmer and his daughter, manslaughter