EPMD: Rap Is Still Outta Control

[Busta Rhymes]
Rap is outta control!
Hey, hey rap, rap.. (for sure dude) wait what, wait
Aiy, rap is outta control
Hold on!

[B.R.] Yeah yeah yeah yeah, yi-yeah yeah yeah yi-yeah yeah
[P.S.] Erick and Parrish, Busta Bus, check it
[B.R.] This is one of my favorites
[P.S.] Aight? So check it, check it
[B.R.] Yeah
[P.S.] Outta control
[E.S.] F'real, rap is outta control, like that (For sure dude!)
[P.S.] PMD, still Makin Dollars
[E.S.] Uh-huh, rap's outta control (For sure dude!)
[both] Yo, yo..

[Erick Sermon]
I be pulsatin dominatin, up above
Run-D.M.C. style, stop and show love
E-Dub, I can't fall off, it's no way, I'm down low
I stay in the cut with O.J.
The fact is, some things got to change
with eight or more rappers that sound the same
With the, same game, like they all in the same gang
and claim the same fame
Suicide victims, quick to jump off and scream I
have to die, I'm livin a lie
Fake MC's no heart, get torn apart
Messin with us? In ninety-nine, get smart
I be the last one you wanna play with
Rap committees call me, just to okay shit
Focus on me, I grab the mic and drop gems
on a ill rhyme, more flashier than rims
Step in in tan Timb's, a pocket full of ends with a
couple of friends and a couple of hens
Never boring, keep shit rocking til morning
with the bird, until the hawks start hawking
Bounce with me, me and my man keep things hittin
Hop in the Benz 2000 Benz with the CD skippin
EPMD, who's fuckin with it
Outta control like 2Pac in _Juice_, character Bishop
Who's inferior? My Squad be Def
and we ain't hearin ya, lounge in the black interior
Because..

[Busta Rhymes]
HAH! Yes.. ha, rap is outta control!
Ha, hey hey rap is outta control! (for sure dude)
Yo, aiy, rap is outta control! (for sure dude)
Aiyyo, ey, rap is outta control!

[Parrish Smith]
Yo, they took our music and our beat and tried to make it street
Then got in the magazine and tried to sound all sweet
When it came to EPMD no one said a word
So I called up Erick Sermon and said, "This shit's absurd!"
Now we flip the bird, back-breakin MC's down like herbs
Redlinin, bendin my chrome rims up on curbs
So can you make a bill and chill and survive in the rap field?
Flip deals, and cock back burners when the caps peel?
I don't think so, then come next the car repo
No mo' contract, just strictly handyman in Home Depot
So don't front for me or the E, cause you know our steez
EPMD, blazin shit, Def 2G's
Cause we make tape and break MC's who wannabeez
and gonna-beez, burn em down to third degrees
You heard of me, ain't no one checkin or servin me
I'll turn your 411 into the 911 emergency
Surgeon see

[Busta Rhymes]
Hah.. hah, rap is outta control!
Hey, hey rap, rap .. wait, what wait (for sure dude)
Hey, rap is outta control! Hold on
Wait wait, rap rap is outta control!

And yes yes y'all (yes y'all) ay, yes y'all (yes y'all)
Aiyyo kick it E!

[Erick Sermon]
I stand tall I won't fall, I recall
ha hah, your rhymes stall when you bust caps
Make sure they krytonite caps
I'm made of steel, I swat bullets like gnats
I'm like, (*singing*) Superman... fly high...
.. way up in the sky ..
And if you try to shoot me down clown I won't die
I cremate

[Parrish Smith]
I hate, let's exterminate
Wait for a second E, time to debate
As we take our Fisherman hat off, there's no time to max
on the crab MC, who's all on the bozack
who knows that, 2000 Benz to shows that
yo, sold out crowd, where's the hoes at?
And the Old Gold black, icy cold fat
Wack MC's yo, where's your clothes at?
End the drama, that's word to your momma..