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[ PMD ](Yo, nobody invited me to the party?)Word em up(Ya man)Check it out(Comin through)[ VERSE 1: PMD ]Well goddamn, another grand slam from the Zone Black Benz with chrome, no time to phone home Niggas try to push up, get that head flown like frisbee Dick thee, flip the script like Bill Bixby I ain't tryin to hear niggas, that's on the real, c-d is in the store So while you're steppin through, nigga, steppin through hardcore(What) P holds his own on this here microphone You better check your clip for blinds, all them shots, kid, still missed the dome Fakin moves, put down the future of the funk, punk Can't even sample, nigga, claimin to make trunks rump You get jumped, yeah nigga, chill, I know my shit thumps Back from the Boondox wildin, peep the slam dunk Lumps on your headpiece, back in 3-d I let the brothers decide just like sweepee But for now I lay low, act like you know me, homey( *inhales* ) here's a pull for my fake homeyz[ VERSE 2: Top Quality ]I be the Op-T Lity-Qua, the one you leaped You gotta see the tricky techniques, creep but don't sleep Got the chunky dunky styles I like to drop Makes heads bop across mad blocks because I got That shit that knock, a-shippity-bop-bop the spot, still hot Ooh-ah-ooh-ah, no need to cock-block, equipped with no glocks I rather wreck you with my decker And damage ya, I'm no janitor but I swept ya I kept a record of the things you messed up Niggas thought that he musta rushed Cause I touched these ducks fuckin with yuk So if you do not know by now you never knew I'm straight like 0852I welcome you but you still refuse to swing your dukes You gotta do what you do Get the boot if you can't troop for shit We're gettin still get a lick with a bit I won't switch cause P is not havin it I catch you when the sun goes down on the night tip I'm standin with my mic grip Hardcore rugged, walkin down the aisles, make you buckwild Go check my files, you know my style Here's a pull for my fake homeyz[ VERSE 3: 3rd Eye ]On the strenght, on the strenght3rd Eye comin through..Yeeeahhh, now let me kick a verse, gee I'm thirsty, Lord have mercy on those who curse me Peek-a-boo! thought I couldn't see through that gas up Quick, I flicked a Bic and burned that wicked ass up Who sent me, tempt me, gee, I flow till my dome's empty Test me, baggin brothers up like ???, yes gee Bring it on, we play for keeps, creep Can't read my mind, I got the antidote sleep, peep it And I get funky ???? like a junkie I'm dope When I quote shit I wrote I go for broke no joke I choke rappers like a toke of smoke Ooh, pass the buddah brick I need to take a hit I think I wanna flare (is that right?)Who want a bite, just to kiss that ass goodnight Cause word is bond we gon' fight It's from the heart, brothers getting papers, they ain't paid no dues I got some bad news, here comes the Hit Squad And my shit's hard and it gets harder than that Even ???? my shit's fat start believin that You ain't even that fly enough to try and bluff3rd Eye's rough enough to make you wanna bust that rough stuff So here's a puff for my fake homeyz( *inhales* ) you don't know me[ DJ Scratch scratches ][ 3rd Eye ]Here's a puff for my fake homeyz You don't know me Here's a puff for my fake homeyz Fuck all the backstabbers[ PMD ]Hit Squad is in the house, kid[ 3rd Eye ]3rd Eye, 3rd Eye[ PMD ]Yeah kid Shit is on
