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