[PMD]
Ah... yeah.. check it, 9-4 (yeah)
Turn it up one notch
Yeah, this goes out to the brothas in Brooklyn (Crooklyn)
All the brothas to the east coast, west coast (word)
Sittin in them cars, you know what I'm sayin' (word 'em up)
Ready to blow them amps, yeah hit them bass buttons
To all the get low posses, you know what I'm sayin'
Zone 7 in the house (word 'em up) Word bond
Got my man Lavell to the left, my man Roland Harris ridin' shotgun
And of course DJ Scratch on the 1 and 2 (yeah)
Yo, Lavell, you ready to flip dough in 9-4? Sic 'em, champ
[Lavell]
I'm snakebitten, spittin' venom infected with the outrageous
contagious spreadin', nobody's protected
Microphones floatin' freely through zones, crushin' clones
So don't disturb me and the Mic Doc, searchin' real domes
Push the button, helter skelter, guard your mental
Shit's past the point, on the brink not blinkin' is essential
Niggaz blast the joint, niggaz blastin' niggaz while I'm blastin
Spastically out of electric sockets rarely seen like Hailey's Comet
What was that? Bring it back. What was that? Shit was tight, fat
All that new vocabulary get the bozack
Squad, the Def Squad, your brain is numb
Lavell Bass, Roland Harris and Parrish Smith stomp that cranium
[Roland Harris]
While brothas swingin' they paws often, knowin' who it is, it's teleportic
Me, I'm Roland Harris, he's movin past the Lavell staff
His only images of a god is, yo, when you see the
PMD rolled a massive squad yo if you peter
See me no jack joke to jack rope-a-dope, no no no no
We got bloody palms suddy, fuckin' already knew that though
Crazy is the peels the reals going to ace you over gills
The most fucked up shit's about to hit the streets, which is worse, G, Me
Oh, they givin' out guns, yo. Gun control bills
But they called Big Ro ill, causin' our brothas to sit back and chill
Until align the squad G, free the squad in me
Fire exquisite looking feature, meager. And if anyone tries to
Put out these flames our chairs we throw 'em, pistol smoke, then BLAST
At last, you know who to hand the cash, the brotha with the black hoodie
Brotha AR fatigued, should he, nigga play post rhyme
Time me, 70 worst as we burst out in 84 contact go pussy
And we out, G
[PMD]
I'm sittin' in the crib, wonderin' where a sunset's at (Ha, Ha, Ha...)
I'm crosstown in the zone with my hand on the gat
Yeah, I got this. That's why they call me Swiss Smith, no bullshit
Strictly biz, not havin' it
It's too many rap hits for niggaz to be checkin' me, I'm wreckin', see
Zone 7 on the track with PMD
Up after hours, gunnin' niggaz down at the watchtower
Deep like Malcolm, deadly like gun powder
Sat back strapped, while brothas try to attack
Time to react, 'cause the Hit Squad ain't havin' that
