Listen to For My People by EPMD

For My People

EPMD

Hip-Hop/Rap

Featured In

Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
EPMD
EPMD
Performer
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Erick Sermon
Erick Sermon
Composer
J. Brown
J. Brown
Composer
PMD
PMD
Composer
Lyn Collins
Lyn Collins
Composer
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Erick Sermon
Erick Sermon
Producer
Parish "PMD" Smith
Parish "PMD" Smith
Producer
Mr. Bozack
Mr. Bozack
Producer

Lyrics

Hereeeeeee we go... Verse one: erick sermon The e-r-i-c-k s-e-r-m-o-n I'm dark skinned, pack a mac 10 More menace and I'll wreck the whole damn set Smash (yes) you ain't seen *shit* yet Yes, a fact, a black nine mil is what I pack In the front of my waist, right next to my bozack A safety, for the suckers that hate me I haven't had to bust a couple of rounds lately I hope not, it's no fun getting shot Cause when I cock, I aim straight for the knot I don't miss, I have a scope, no jokin You should hope, that disco appearance like broke Mass destruction when I start crushin and bustin Duck mc's, I'm bumrushin Swift wit the trig, there's nuff foes equipped Real deal, of course, I pack steel, shit's thick I'm not dumb, to walk the streets, they kept us swinging by A punk chump wit spunk, who dares to jump By the hour, I push power like hiroshima Got dropped on by usa and like cleaned her I manage to damage people without a sequel This is for my people Verse two: pmd Check out the main attraction, black man in action Number one crowd mover, I break backs in Boy, you shoulda known what epmd stands for Sucker snappin necks, bustin caps, and breakin jaws It's erick and parrish making dollars Excel, living well, taking no shorts and why bother To whine while I dine, sounds genuine You walked in wrong camp, punk, stepped on a landmine Boom bang, bust the slang that I bring From brentwood, long island, all the way to sing-sing Yes the penile, peace to brothers on trial For some *bullshit* charge, mugshot on file For hard time, thump beats like an alpine No sam suey sole shoe shoot joints, back a tech nine Yes the brother's back wit no knife or ax Just a microphone, sucker, it limits that pack Def blows and flows, quadraverbs and echoes Sounds the pound hard to make an mc petrol My nine mil, kitted wit the infrared beam Something similar to a roger moore scene That's james bond, 007, wit guillotine To keep the hit squad hype to fly heads like the a-team Don't bug or miss, bug on the sequel For this *shit* I kick, it's strictly for my people (pmd gives shoutouts)
Writer(s): Parrish Smith, James Brown, Erick Sermon, Gloria Collins Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
instagramSharePathic_arrow_out