Ah, yeah, yeah, yeah. Funkmaster Flex here with the Final Chapter.
 Volume 3, understand that.  Squadron - Das EFX, Keith Mur', Redman, and
 Nocturnal.  EPMD ?98, understand that.  New year, new chear. New cash
 flow, understand it, 1-2. Yeah, feel me on this one, uh-uh..

 We up in D and D, makin it happen once more
 I'm lookin for the Fugees, to split The Score
 Y'know what I mean, I'm out for the dough, no less
 When I get a hundred mill, to spend, there's no stress
 And you cats kill me
 It takes more than dreams to fulfill me, y'all feel me?
 Cock the automatic
 I'm systematic
 Michael Jackson Screaming
 On those emcees not believing
 I got up and I wrecked em quickly
 Black out, no doubt, you won't even believe Ripley
 Don't shit me, I see right through your frame, its frail
 You and your crew live a tall tale
 Squadron, understand it
 ED, the Black human-being, The Green-Eyed Bandit
 Come inside, and let me show you whats about
 Like Sean "Puffy" Combs, boy, there's No Way Out, nigga

 [Parrish Smith]

 EPMD, Funk Flex, yo, Volume 3: Final Chapter
 Gotta blast ya, crash ya, total your frame, when I smash ya
 You get plastered, trying to fuck with the master
 The MC slasher, stock bonds, and check casher
 The rapper for neons, crushing peons
 Nice like ?be-on?, in ?98, EPMD's on
 The grand finale, from New York, Back to Cali
 Ghetto style, for the projects and the street alleys
 Funk Flex, desert eagle with the techs
 Teflon vest, hollowpoints, with the silver tips
 Ties chrome-dipped, leather for the Benz whip
 Diamond bracelet, plus a muzzle for the wild pit
 The Squadron, shutting shit down in a hurry
 EPMD, Red, Noc', Das, plus Keith Murray