Fat Gold Chain

[Intro: Erick Sermon]

Woo! Uh, ah-ah, yeah-yeah, I, ah, ah, ah, ah

And you don't stop, yeah, ah-ah, word is bond, word is bond, uh

[Verse 1: Erick Sermon]

Now introducin' the sound from the ghetto

E Double and Too $hort, what the fuck you thought?

I come with the ruckus, It's My Thing when I swing

I'm Born to Mack, always strapped with the black gat

Who out there? I swear boy, you, wanna get touched

Roll up, and catch a slug to the chest, so duck

I talk the talk, walk the walk, now nigga

500 S drivin' with hand on trigger

Crazy loot I stack, check my track record

Everything I touch is gold since eighteen years old

So what that mean? I rolled the blunt

And puff the indo smoke in it, I trip in a minute

Crazy hoes be jockin' me 'cause I be rockin', B

Sew it up like Monopoly, nobody's stoppin' me

Dig it, Funkdafied like Brat, how's that?

I stick and move on tracks while I smoke a twenty sack

Who said the E can't rock? That's bullshit

Suck my dick and get a big fat lick of my balls

You wanna brawl? Punk, I thought not

You might get beat down and stomped like Sasquatch

Your girl, like Keith Sweat, I wanna fuck her

Psych, I already stuck her

Huh, I got rhymes to make your whole head swell up

Here's an icepack - homeboy, shut the hell up

I rock the mic with Too $hort, y'all niggas know what's happenin'

Everything he touch goes platinum

I-ya

[Verse 2: Too $hort]

I made a half a million in a week

And every nigga on the street got a tape playin' me

You can't believe it? Erick Sermon, rollin' with $hort

Rolled from California all the way to New York

In big Benzes, G hooked it up

Now we tryna squash all that East/West stuff

We spent years in the studio makin' funky tracks

Signed a bunch of niggas with some tight ass raps

It's like Father Dom, it's like Keith Murray

Makin' millionaires but it ain't no hurry

'Cause we all in it for the long run

I won't leave the studio until the song's done

And ain't nothin' really hard about gettin' my cash

A big fat house with a million stashed

You other niggas got this rap game distorted

Givin' DATs to the label, straight gettin' shorted

Claim you gettin' paid, but I can't tell

You keep rappin' in my ear and got me mad as hell

You talk a good game but I don't believe in you

You smoked a lotta blunts but I got more weed than you

I guess I see you on the charts in the meanwhile

Another face in the crowd bustin' freestyles

Wishin' you could be in the light

Promoters pay me ten G's just to breathe on the mic, bitch

$hort Dawg puttin' it down with the E Double

[Verse 3: Erick Sermon]

Shhhhh! You remind me of my fat gold chain

Some of y'all are just small change

Be a boss with true true game

Yeah-yeah

Dig this y'all, my Music is Dangerous

Atomic Dog, coming through the smog with $hort Dawg

Ah! Quick with the trig', Jack be nimble

I shoot like G Mob those lookin' through my window

Chick chick pow! How you like me now?

The man in the mirror, it don't get no clearer

$hort Dawg, the E Double, and Breed we roll thick

Like girls in CAU with the good power-U

Ow! Money is the key to fame

So I can live it up with the girls on Soul Train

The impact, major league dough like Dave Justice

Yo Breed, $hort Dawg, show 'em how we bust this

[Outro: Too $hort]

Like some true pioneers, don't forget it