Rap is Outta Control

[Intro]

Tom J in the house

Rap is outta control

Tom— Tom— Tom— Tom— Tom J in the house

Rap is outta control

Rap is outta control

Rap is outta control (G, man)

Rap is outta control

Rap is outta control

Rap is outta control

[Verse 1: Erick Sermon]

G, man, do I have the power like He-Man?

To crack a wack MC's head open like a pecan?

Damn, my name should become Sam

But I prefer that Grand Royal for the jam

I'm pulling heads out, the guns I use to pump lead out

Hey, son, I suggest that you head out

I total, cremate, strike 'em like Flex

I won't break, I make more nerves than a earthquake

Strong, got more strength than King Kong

I'm worldwide, I'm interviewed with Connie Chung

I'm on now, live at 12, it's so dope

All the way to 4 o'clock, there no soaps

I'm able to rock the mic nice and stable

It's a chance that you might see me on Cable

Vision, Showtime or HBO with the flow

Getting more play than Rambo

Ayo, what do you know?

Party people, rap is outta control

Rap is outta control, it's definitely, fuckin', it's outta control

Rap is outta control, rap is definitely outta control

It's outta control, rap is outta control

[Verse 2: PMD]

Straight from the underground where universal beatdown is a must

Yo, I smell crab MC, E (Too late, he got crushed)

Was he a pop-rap singer, R&B swinger?

A faggot who jumped the gate and now you get the finger?

In other words, it's absurd to try to get with

The brother from Brentwood, Long Island nicknamed Swift Lip

I'm too smooth and yes, I groove to the slam track

With a Beck's in my right hand, left hand on bozack

I move on ya posse, first reaction was "Oh shit

Let's do that brother, hell no (Why?), he's too quick"

So dial 1-900-55-EAT-SHIT

I pack a twelve-shot nine mil' and, yes, I still kick (What?)

Ass like a jock (Height?), 6'3" and stocky (Last name?)

Not Balboa, so motherfuck Rocky

I'm the mainstream supreme, slammin' like Hakeem The Dream

And, yes, sometimes it may seem that

[Chorus]

Rap is outta control

Rap is outta control, for sure dude

Rap-ra-ra-rap-rap, ra-ra, for sure dude

Rap is outta control

Yes, yes y'all, yes y'all

Yes y'all, yes y'all, kick it E

[Verse 3: Erick Sermon & PMD]

I stand tall, I won't fall, I recall

Haha, your rhymes stall

When I bust caps until they Kryptonite caps

I bring the steel, I swap bullets like caps

I'm like Superman

Fly high, way up in the sky

And if you try to shoot me down, clown, I won't die

I cremate, I hate, let's exterminate

Wait for a second, E, time to debate

As I take my fisherman hat off, there's no hap

For an MC on a trail of a mere comeback

I rock fisherman buckets, no top hats

And if you wanna see a flick—