Check 1, 2 lyrics ( Epmd )
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Rate Check 1, 2 LyricsArtist : Epmd Song : Check 1, 2
Send "Check 1, 2" Ringtone to your Cell 
[Erick Sermon]
EPMD.. Def Jam.. blazin..
Check it, uh-huh, YO
It`s E-Dub on the microphone
My style be Elektra, I`m the male Syl Rhome
Homes, walk around with forty-four chrome
on safety, spike the mic in the endzone
This here ain`t the average shit, you used to
Front, and automatic rounds, will shoot you
So knock it off, like Biggie Smalls said Duke you
soft
Why you wanna f**k with the boss?
[Parrish Smith]
Where should I start? Breakin MC`s or shatterin
charts?
It`s Diablo, PMD Mic Doc with the purple heart
The go-getter, getter, get wit `er, hit `er-split
`er
Front and back, and if she wit it, straight in
the shitter
So heidi heidi heidi hydro, pack gats and ammo
+Funky Piano+, van like the f**kin ?tano?
with more cheese than Lambeau, more heat than
Rambo
Break down dismantle when I scramble
Chorus: Erick Sermon (Parrish Smith) *repeat 2X*
I just get down, and I go for mines
Say check 1, 2 -- and run down the line
(Inclined to shine) with techs and (forty-four
mags and nines)
Don`t get too close because you might get shot
[Erick Sermon]
Uhh, yo, ey, and yo
EPMD, f**kin with us is bad news
Me and you got different views
What you might say is dope, I say`s not
What I might call wack, you`ll call hot
The best thing for you, is to think and hope
or get choked, and hung with +The Velvet Rope+
Cause you too theatrical, mess around
and end up smackin you, jackin you, attackin you
[Parrish Smith]
That`s why it`s crucial, so stay neutral to
collect the cash
double beaucoup, just rippin up mics, is what my
crew do
Whatever suits you, pull out the burner, f**k the
shoot through
roadblocks and smear campaigns, with the two-two
or tech nine, that`ll chew, through your
waistline
I`m accurate, don`t waste mine, spit on bassline
Run with the unseen potential to be on Dateline
I don`t fake mine, you blaze crazy, while I pace
mine
[Erick Sermon]
Yeah, now why y`all wanna mess with the vets?
We`ve been doin this shit, since _Dear Yvette_,
check
I make sh*t that make you wanna smack your
producer
and ice grill him, and make you wanna kill him
dead
and walk around leakin, in the bed for the
weekend
for playin with the last Mohican
?Madi gon? - that`s f**k you in Puerto Rican
Keep quiet when you hear grown men speakin
[Parrish Smith]
Or get smacked, this ain`t no game, the sh*t is
serious
Delerious, that`s how we leave cats and niggaz
curious
The true legend, got caught sh*t you better call
Kevin
Big like Dog 40 and the Dutch from the 7-11
I`m danger like Norris the Texas Ranger
The mic strangler, PMD, the f**kin _Head Banger_
Mo` skills fo` real for them cats that kill
Pump a nine on the reg behind penetentiary steel
Chorus
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