Can't Hear Nothing But The Music

EPMD

(PMD)



It's a fact I'm mad hard like a jail yard



I'm sick slow call me a retard



Can't hear nothing but the music I'm slippin



Dark as hell and water drippin



Parrish Smith mentally sick



Serial rap killer like Dave Berkowitz



Yes the son of Sam and I'll be godamn



So take the force and get the balls and watch me slam man



The exquisite rap wizard from the boon dox



My tune knock watts, been known to cause brain lock



Wit no riff raff, smooth like Shaft



Breaking bones in the rap zone, chill or get smoked mad fast



Can't stop us from buggin because we're trippin



Can't hear nothing but the music, I'm slippin



(Chorus)



Can't hear nothing but the music, I'm slippin(4x)



(Erick Sermon)



Breaker 1, 9, breaker, 1, 9, mayday



Call for backup, it's Erick Sermon's payday



No illusion, just mass confusion



Dull raps, I dutch them, from the funk production



I, the Afromerican, black citizen



To make you scream loud as hell like Sam Kinison



No one can stop me



Dun na na na na na, like Rocky



The combination, the jab, the uppercut



Mad footwork from the rapper expert



Bust a move, I'm worth about a million cash bucks



Say what, damn right, shut the hell up



I fought MC's word up and watch em grown up



Play em like Dunkin, then pass out doughnuts



Then I freak the funky style and I use it



MD and hear nothing but the music



Chorus



(PMD)



What's this, another funky hit from the Hit Squad, kid



I get mad props like Sonny Crockett



You know it's the smooth rap flow that clocks the P doe



Can't stop now (why) cuz I'm diesel



EPMD back in effect on your rap set



Fourth cassette, more deadly than a bomb threat



Can't stop us from buggin because we're trippin



Can't hear nothing but the music, I'm slippin



(Erick Sermon)



Slate take two, action, the main attraction



(Who's Bad) I'm bad like Michael Jackson



Got more tricks than any Kung Fu flick



Understand, I'm ruff and tuff like Jackie Chan



My technique, the drunken mic, grasp it right



I'm teaching (P-S-Y-C-H-E) psyche



I'm slammin, the dopest nigga from the underground



Out the basement, now world renown



Rocking systems, cuss and jock a victim



If we catch flack from a punk and then we diss him



Then I freak a funky style and I use it



Kid, and hear nothing but the music



Chorus