Roc-Da-Spot

Roc-Da-Spot

EPMD

Yeah!
Uh, yeah
Yeah, feel me!

When I'm on the scene I always rock the spot
The E-R-I-C-K is my name I spell
I'm the capital P, capital M
The capital D-E-E is no doubt the chief rocker

Uhh, you are now tuned in to a hip-hop movie
Starrin' two MC's, featurin' E
P-M-D, b-boys in the house
New York rappers, they play me in the South
So I don't have to do them, I'ma do me
Rock on to the break of dawn
Like PM Dawn, I get reckless, when I'm on beats
I show my true {Colors} when I'm in the streets

Yeah we step through militant, rain snow or sleet
Approach with caution when you see me on the street
(Who is that? HIT SQUAD) is comin' with the heat
The black sniper rifle lift you off your feet
Your head neck and arm be on the concrete
I'm on some Murdoch, I'm comin' for you, so don't sleep
Or wake up wit'cha wig split open like watermelon
There's no tellin', when you runnin' with them known felons

When I'm on the scene I always rock the spot
("Who rock the spot?")
("Who rock the spot?"}
I'm the capital P, capital M
The capital D-E-E is no doubt the chief rocker

EPMD has been gone for a minute, time to jump back in it
And dot the I's and check the period at the end of the sentence
Discipline, meditation, repentance, gave us clearance
in the re-entrance like a futuristic extension
Need I mention our catalogue and what I'm benchin'
When our name comes up yo there's always tension
Don't get hit with the lyrical lynchin'
Get at you at the park like in "Baby Boy" don't let me catch you flinchin'
E

Sometimes you can see me in the cipher
I'm a star now, like a Mekhi Phifer
Live from the N.Y. state, it's the great, Dub
That nigga from '88, whassup?
Peace to Roger, Zapp in the background
I got the mac no need to back down
Wake up niggaz, EP is back 'round
You my son, I'ma call you Shaq now

Yeah! Newsflash, just in for rap
What? East and West is back on the map
What? Bassline, hard kicks with the clap
You can walk it out but do it the other way
Gangsta NIAHHH, somethin' Dub C would say
Fuck what they say, this what we play
Out the gate, we come with the 8-ball
from the great, game over, rack 'em
P

Yo this goes out to the triple OD O.G.'s
Since "Strictly Biz" I've been a chief rocker with E
(Yo who's he?) A real b-boy MC
You want the recipe? You gotta see me
P, you heard the name now we in the flesh to see
Return like O from "The Wire," hitman for hire
Blow the dice and roll 'em, 4-5-6
Shit, we on fire!

Written by SMITH, PARRISH JOSEFF / SERMON, ERICK
Published by EMI Music Publishing

Lyrics Provided By LyricFind Inc.

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