Chorus: Parrish Smith (from 'So What Cha Sayin')
 Brothers on my jock for the way I hold a piece of steel (4x)
 So what cha saying
 Verse One: Redman
 I go wild as I sip from a cold Lowenbrau
 Set up rhymes like fire to gunpowder
 Boom  did the bassline crank
 From being rated R  from being top rank
 I'm hard like an erection
 Phrases might get too tough to break down in sections
 So I grab a pen and pad, I'm back
 to make a killer, similar to a backstab
 Don't arrest me, arrest my brain, it's insane
 If I'm booty, then I've been framed
 By an MC, who can't be the R-E-D
 Fuck wit me, you'll get slapped up and capped up easy
 By me and a tre-eight pistol, so vacate the premises
 Or ask for Mayday, Mayday
 For H-E-L-P, brothers tell me
 I'm electrifyin, similar to round three
 I don't brag and boast but smash and roast
 MC's wit degrees from here to the West Coast
 I'm miracle wit no abrakadaba
 Piece of membranes will smash like crackers
 Were they Ritz, Saltine, or Town House
 None of the above get caught wit the roundhouse
 Kick, blackflip, semifull
 My vocal chord prove my pull ain't bull
 I'm down wit the Squad, no more than four to five brothers
 Six or more, you seen got smothered
 By a fist of fury, next is the verdict
 Let's hear it from the jury
 Chorus
 Verse Two: PMD
 I'm a nightmare to rappers, terror to an MC
 Cold wreck the nigga wit the help of E-D
 Aggravation, don't need it, so get off my dick
 Master of disaster, no time for flicks
 Straight up b-boy, Real McCoy like Bruce Leroy
 Strap the bozack when I'm stabbin a skeezoid
 Gangsta rap, it's Daddy Mack wit a bozack
 Roy the funk punk pumps skunk like a smokestack
 So swing low and lick up balls
 I'm like Scharzenegger, correcting shit in Total Re-
 call up E-D and the posse that's ten deep
 To wax a sucker nigga booty rappin MC
 So step off cause you gets no props
 So stick the fork in him, Redman (why) cause he's done
 Chorus
 Verse Three: Erick Sermon
 I'm E-D, I belong wit the A-Team
 A one man wreckin machine, by all means
 Necessary, I destroyed on contact
 No fear, of getting killed cause I'm strapped
 The Hit Squad's deep, making it sweet
 to creep, on my crew so you don't sleep
 My mic is caffeine, similar to Maxwell
 Making it smooth for me, yes, to wax well
 And you might get scared and spark a stove
 Cause I pack steel but Hold On like En Vogue
 My swiftness, I got a gift not for Christmas
 God bless, mmm-hmm, can I get a witness
 I'm fresh like a bag of Chips Ahoy
 No toy, I'm a hardcore b-boy
 Once again, I quote, I'm danger
 I smoked Smokey the Bear and killed the forest ranger
 Poof, the fire's out and I'm gone
 Peace to Mandela and Farrakhan
 Chorus