They Tell Me

[Intro: Erick Sermon]

Yeah

Something has to be said

Uh

Somebody tell me something

What's up?

[Verse 1: Parrish Smith]

That it's on right now and we about to let off

And that the industry is sleepin' and hip-hop is soft

EPMD is the boss like Rick Ross

We don't knock or ring or else we kick down the door with force

Bust you down, leave a sign on you that say you lost

Game over, no more quarters, plus the machine is broke

Money don't really remember nothing, all he has seen is smoke

No witness, no statement, no case

Incorporate, you eat cheese, then you get erased

Rubbed out return to the earth, six feet deep in the dirt

With the snakes and maggots 'cause you got murked

[Verse 2: Erick Sermon]

Yeah, and they keep telling me that,  "You're only as good as your last record"

And if I was to do something now they wouldn't second

Hardcore respect it and that there's enough

You got more props then call your bluff

Same thing happened to Mary and Mariah

They both came back with fire, fuck retiring

I got belts around my waist, huh

You keep holding your pants up, homeboy, man up!

That's your opinion, 'cause you're not feeling it

How you know they're hot the fans not hearing it

The record pins steering it in one direction

You, play some music in the real niggas section

[Verse 3: Parrish Smith]

That EPMD's a corporation, it's not just a group

And that they always stack paper so put up your loot

Ghetto celebs that's why niggas salute

Orange juice and Grey Goose

We dramatic backwards now that P is loose

Me and E is back for the kill, no troops

That's why we spit the real in the vocal booth

[Verse 4: Erick Sermon]

Yeah, so called gangster and you ain't even hard

So called boxer and you ain't even sparred

When them ribber hit you got punked in the yard (Uh-huh)

You said you got shot and you ain't even scarred

But they believe this and you keep betraying it

You are a bitch and I'm not the only one saying it

[Verse 5: Keith Murray]

Now he from the BX but he really soft

And he from BK but his guns don't go off

He from Cop Killer Queens but he stay getting robbed

And he from Money Making but he ain't on his job (Tell 'em)

Now he from LA but he's scared to bang

And he from Texas but he will do the damn thing

He'd stay in VA but he is scared of the streets (Yeah)

And he's from GA but he's sweet as a peach

I can tell you 'bout the dope fiends and all of that

But I let them tell it 'cause they sell their moms crack

And that ain't gangsta, that is wanksta

Went to jail and the homo shanked ya

Don't get caught between my city and the Moon

You'll be screaming at night, you loose your life at meet the doom

I really hung with BIG, squared off with Pac

Shook hands in the House of Blues before the shit popped

Fist-fought niggas in the industry and kept it cool

You ain't see me running my mouth in no interviews

And you fools on them DVDs waving tools

Nah, that ain't something that a gangsta'd do