Symphony EPMD (Ft. M.O.P.)

[Intro: Parrish Smith]
Yeah (Uh, uh), Erick Sermon (Uh), PMD (Hahaha)
Yeah, check it (Check it), M.O.P. (M.O.P.)
Erick and Parrish, Millenium Ducats
Hold me down (Hold me down), uh, yo

[Verse 1: Parrish Smith]
I grab the mic and grip it hard like it's my last time to shine
I want the chrome and the cream so I put it down for mine
Ill cat, slick talk, slang New York
To break it down to straight English, what the fuck you want?
Remember me, you punk faggot crab emcee?
Get your shit broke in half for fuckin' around with P
Ayo, strike two, my style Brooklyn like the Zoo
Hey you (Look, nigga), one more strike you through
Word is bi-dond, rock Esco, FUBU, and Phat Fi-darm
Every time I get my spit on, no doubt, I spark the gridiron
Step up and bless the track and spit a jewel
We keeps cool, no need for static, I strap tools

[Interlude: PMD, Erick Sermon, M.O.P]
Next up, yo I believe that's me
Yo, get on the mic and rock the symphony (Yo, P)

[Verse 2: Erick Sermon]
Time to rock, the sound I got, it rings hot
Make your neck snap back like a slingshot
E hustle, I muscle my way in
Then tussle for days in, on my own with guns blazin'
Not for the fun of it, just for those who want me to run it
Then leave them like, "Who done it?"
Sucka duck, I do what I feel right now
When I spit the illest shit, cats be like, "Wow!"
Yo, I get looks when I'm in the place
That's that nigga, makin' you smile with Scarface
Uh, it ain't my fault that my style slick enough to shock ya
Hit you with the fifth, block-a block-a
If I get caught you can bet I'll blow trial
Be downtown swingin' M.O.P. style