Hardcore EPMD (Ft. Redman)

[Chorus]
Hardcore to make the brothers act fools
Hardcore to make the brothers act fools
Hardcore to make the brothers act fools
Hardcore to make the brothers act fools

[Verse 1: Parrish Smith]
When I turn the party out, all hands is in the air
Some say it's chill, New York throw chairs
It's the punk funk sound to make a sane man flip
Girls rush the stage, faggots cold dip
Low to avoid the caps and blows
By the gangbangers at the B-boy shows
Where the cops try to control the crowd
But they can't, system's cranked, "So Wat Cha Sayin" is pumpin' loud
Blows are thrown, heads are flown like Pan-Am
Brothers lickin' off like the Son of Sam and
The bass continues to thump
Some brothers hit the parking lot to go pop trunks
Hoes are slapped, jewels are snatched
Brothers are caught in the crossfire without no caps
And on my way out, I heard a sucker scream and shout
(Niggas), yeah, cold turn the party out

[Chorus]
Hardcore to make the brothers act fools
Hardcore to make the brothers act fools
Hardcore to make the brothers act fools
Hardcore to make the brothers act fools