Tell 'Em

[Intro]

You about to come through right?

(Yeah, I'll do it, man, don't stress me.)

You about to come through

(I got this. Check this out, man.)

You ain't gonna front on me

(I ain't gonna front on niggas, man.)

Make sure, man, I'm tellin' you right now

(Check this out, what, I'm about to do it right now.)

People gonna lookin', man, word up. Ha

[Verse 1: Erick Sermon]

Personal gats, I gots about 11

Without weapons, I swing more bats than K7

Plus, I'm soup like Campbell without Tevin

Some rappers pack naked guns like Frank Drebin

In this century, I uphold the crown

For bringin' flavor in the ear plus for gettin' down

I maneuver techniques for species of all kinds

The third, yours and mine

An abduction is in full effect

I come with the mothership and with some other shit (Yeah)

All the way live like a concert

The most respected brother, puttin' in some work, yeah

[Hook: Erick Sermon]

If you got a crew, you better tell 'em

E kicks rhymes from the cerebellum

Don't slip or you won't be around next year

("Well, here's a little something that needs to be heard")

[Verse 2: Rosalyn Noble]

Check the poetry in motion

From this bombazee smokin' bitch that get you open

It's mess if you tangle with my tresses

'Cause I possess gifts that's wickeder than hexes

That explode on the scene by all means

I be Flushing MC's like Queens

And none of y'all can see me

Got more Boom Boom than Mancini

Your style is strictly preemie

And I stomp with the big dogs

Off the wall with a crew that's rough enough to Rush Limbaugh

We stay strapped, part of Pack Pistol Posse

I represent through mind, soul, and body

In any form I'm doin' work over beat breaks

Now even cheapskates is peepin' my tape release date

Word born, I'm comin' in like a swarm then I'm gone

Before you can ring the alarm

[Hook: Roz]

If you got a crew, you better tell 'em

I kick rhymes from the cerebellum

Don't slip or you won't be around next year

(Slick Rick: "Now here's a little something that needs to be heard.")

[Verse 3: Keith Murray]

A-yo, catch this wordage bubonic plague

In your head, back, chest, arms, and legs

When I'm coming through grab your cranium for alternatum

Punk, I fades 'em subterranium

My subliminals mix with criminal chemicals

Got more milky syllables than alphabet cereal

Place your bet and your whole entourage will get wet

That's a promise 'cause the Squad don't make threats

I'm a graceful poet with sadistic ballistics

Above and beyond all that other bullshit

Linguistics aggressive antiseptic

Nerve-wreckin', concepted on consistent contestants

My deviant deliverance

Be leavin' MC's in a state of mal mid depressin' (Word up)

Damaging your medulla, cerebrum and cerebellum

You got a crew, you better tell 'em