Chill

"CHILL.. CHILL.. Chill.. chill.." (*repeat 8X*)

"Yeaaaah! Ha ha ha"

[Verse 1: Erick Sermon]

Equipped with the rap microchip

Program, aptitude, one mo' return, aww {shit}

My face in the magazines, showin' my eyes green

("CHILL..") Chill, freshly dipped when I'm seen

Yo, dig, it's the new fig for the E-Double

I pack a Mac-10 just in case of trouble

Hot like a handle on a pot, I'm steamin'

Fame and more glory than Morgan Freeman

I'm the original, my style's deformed

So it can sound crazy ill when I perform

Yeah, check one two mic supreme

EPMD, the rap American Dream Team

The E-Double's definitely no joke

You can't see me, even with a microscope

I'm massive dope, funky, who's deffer

Yo, when I express myself like Salt 'N Pepa

Erick Sermon and Parrish Smith

The sickest, the wickest, crazy mad psycho, the slickest

Hardcore rhymin', yeah, that's the ticket

Buckwhylin', rough enough for Long Island