Actin' Up Lyrics
| Song | Actin' Up |
| Artist | EPMD |
| Album | We Mean Business |
| Download | Image LRC TXT |
| 作词 : Erick Sermon/Parrish Smith | |
| 作曲 : Erick Sermon/Parrish Smith | |
| [Hook] | |
| When one-two starts actin up | |
| Homey duck, homey duck, homey duck, homey duck | |
| BLAOW! Somebody shoulda told that dude | |
| BLAOW! Somebody shoulda told that dude | |
| [Verse One: Vic D] | |
| "One, two, three, four, five" | |
| Oh-six through oh-eight, this is oh-nine live | |
| And for the new year I pack a chrome fo'-five | |
| And keep it straight raw like Shady fo'-five | |
| It's I, youngest in charge, a.k.a. so fly | |
| Act up, I'm your neck like a ****in bowtie | |
| Back up, show respect to the newest multi- | |
| -million sold, and that's only in the N.Y. - OH! | |
| Get low when that kickback blow | |
| I put a X on you squares, call it tic-tac-toe | |
| {*click clack BLOW*} Put a lil' tag on his toe | |
| I call it yeast infection faggot how I get that dough | |
| So who want beef, and I'mma shoot it 'til my shooter come through | |
| Hop out the Cougar put a hole in your medullah | |
| It's mo' back at it I'm stoned like crack addicts | |
| Hocus pocus sayonara I'm gone - black magic | |
| [Hook] | |
| [Verse Two: Erick Sermon] + (Parrish Smith) | |
| That EPMD we a hip-hop phenom' | |
| This style I birthed it, I am the mom | |
| The illest (Slow Flow) and the one-two | |
| (Without D.M.C. I'm who they Run to) | |
| Who they come to, to get their swag | |
| (I've been that little boy with the duffel bag) | |
| Ain't anything changed, keep cash bags with me | |
| (I'm a threat, so I keep trash bags with me) | |
| Okay! Dem lay, and if dey dumpin | |
| Double pumpin shotgun action, who's askin? | |
| YOUUUUUUUUUUUU~! (Can't be for real) | |
| (You eatin, but you ain't finish your meal) | |
| Uhh, I'm the blueprint for those who can't lose | |
| (I wrote them checks so I paid them dues) | |
| Yeah Sermon, who walked in my shoes? | |
| You better be Bigfoot (if not stay put) | |
| [Hook] | |
| [Verse Three: Tre] | |
| So I'm the future of this music, bet your life on that | |
| Since construction paper and Crayolas I've been writin raps | |
| So don't confuse me with these bamas that, ain't got no talent | |
| And just all of a sudden up and decide to rap | |
| Ain't no disguisin that bullshit, they ride to that bullshit | |
| Who bought 'em that bullshit? Your mom and them? | |
| She probably mad, 'bout to whup your ass for not again | |
| But don't feel bad, you just tryin to win | |
| Talkin 'bout designers and your diamonds what you drivin in | |
| And you ain't even behind the wheel, go to the passenger side of it | |
| Tell me - why is that niggas do that? That nigga ain't do that | |
| He lyin, he ain't never lived through that | |
| Even people that know you hear you and be like "Who dat?" | |
| That nigga ain't do that (uh-uh, I don't believe him) | |
| I been knew that, been seen through that | |
| Hear you yappin 'bout some weight you never sold | |
| People you ain't never shoot at | |
| Take it down, let's see whatever fairy tales you bring back | |
| (You do got a good imagination though, I can tell you that) | |
| This force is all boss, to fakers of all fakers | |
| Just face it, you all talk and it's PHONY BABY | |
| [Hook] |
| zuo ci : Erick Sermon Parrish Smith | |
| zuo qu : Erick Sermon Parrish Smith | |
| Hook | |
| When onetwo starts actin up | |
| Homey duck, homey duck, homey duck, homey duck | |
| BLAOW! Somebody shoulda told that dude | |
| BLAOW! Somebody shoulda told that dude | |
| Verse One: Vic D | |
| " One, two, three, four, five" | |
| Ohsix through oheight, this is ohnine live | |
| And for the new year I pack a chrome fo' five | |
| And keep it straight raw like Shady fo' five | |
| It' s I, youngest in charge, a. k. a. so fly | |
| Act up, I' m your neck like a in bowtie | |
| Back up, show respect to the newest multi | |
| million sold, and that' s only in the N. Y. OH! | |
| Get low when that kickback blow | |
| I put a X on you squares, call it tictactoe | |
| click clack BLOW Put a lil' tag on his toe | |
| I call it yeast infection faggot how I get that dough | |
| So who want beef, and I' mma shoot it ' til my shooter come through | |
| Hop out the Cougar put a hole in your medullah | |
| It' s mo' back at it I' m stoned like crack addicts | |
| Hocus pocus sayonara I' m gone black magic | |
| Hook | |
| Verse Two: Erick Sermon Parrish Smith | |
| That EPMD we a hiphop phenom' | |
| This style I birthed it, I am the mom | |
| The illest Slow Flow and the onetwo | |
| Without D. M. C. I' m who they Run to | |
| Who they come to, to get their swag | |
| I' ve been that little boy with the duffel bag | |
| Ain' t anything changed, keep cash bags with me | |
| I' m a threat, so I keep trash bags with me | |
| Okay! Dem lay, and if dey dumpin | |
| Double pumpin shotgun action, who' s askin? | |
| YOUUUUUUUUUUUU! Can' t be for real | |
| You eatin, but you ain' t finish your meal | |
| Uhh, I' m the blueprint for those who can' t lose | |
| I wrote them checks so I paid them dues | |
| Yeah Sermon, who walked in my shoes? | |
| You better be Bigfoot if not stay put | |
| Hook | |
| Verse Three: Tre | |
| So I' m the future of this music, bet your life on that | |
| Since construction paper and Crayolas I' ve been writin raps | |
| So don' t confuse me with these bamas that, ain' t got no talent | |
| And just all of a sudden up and decide to rap | |
| Ain' t no disguisin that bullshit, they ride to that bullshit | |
| Who bought ' em that bullshit? Your mom and them? | |
| She probably mad, ' bout to whup your ass for not again | |
| But don' t feel bad, you just tryin to win | |
| Talkin ' bout designers and your diamonds what you drivin in | |
| And you ain' t even behind the wheel, go to the passenger side of it | |
| Tell me why is that niggas do that? That nigga ain' t do that | |
| He lyin, he ain' t never lived through that | |
| Even people that know you hear you and be like " Who dat?" | |
| That nigga ain' t do that uhuh, I don' t believe him | |
| I been knew that, been seen through that | |
| Hear you yappin ' bout some weight you never sold | |
| People you ain' t never shoot at | |
| Take it down, let' s see whatever fairy tales you bring back | |
| You do got a good imagination though, I can tell you that | |
| This force is all boss, to fakers of all fakers | |
| Just face it, you all talk and it' s PHONY BABY | |
| Hook |
| zuò cí : Erick Sermon Parrish Smith | |
| zuò qǔ : Erick Sermon Parrish Smith | |
| Hook | |
| When onetwo starts actin up | |
| Homey duck, homey duck, homey duck, homey duck | |
| BLAOW! Somebody shoulda told that dude | |
| BLAOW! Somebody shoulda told that dude | |
| Verse One: Vic D | |
| " One, two, three, four, five" | |
| Ohsix through oheight, this is ohnine live | |
| And for the new year I pack a chrome fo' five | |
| And keep it straight raw like Shady fo' five | |
| It' s I, youngest in charge, a. k. a. so fly | |
| Act up, I' m your neck like a in bowtie | |
| Back up, show respect to the newest multi | |
| million sold, and that' s only in the N. Y. OH! | |
| Get low when that kickback blow | |
| I put a X on you squares, call it tictactoe | |
| click clack BLOW Put a lil' tag on his toe | |
| I call it yeast infection faggot how I get that dough | |
| So who want beef, and I' mma shoot it ' til my shooter come through | |
| Hop out the Cougar put a hole in your medullah | |
| It' s mo' back at it I' m stoned like crack addicts | |
| Hocus pocus sayonara I' m gone black magic | |
| Hook | |
| Verse Two: Erick Sermon Parrish Smith | |
| That EPMD we a hiphop phenom' | |
| This style I birthed it, I am the mom | |
| The illest Slow Flow and the onetwo | |
| Without D. M. C. I' m who they Run to | |
| Who they come to, to get their swag | |
| I' ve been that little boy with the duffel bag | |
| Ain' t anything changed, keep cash bags with me | |
| I' m a threat, so I keep trash bags with me | |
| Okay! Dem lay, and if dey dumpin | |
| Double pumpin shotgun action, who' s askin? | |
| YOUUUUUUUUUUUU! Can' t be for real | |
| You eatin, but you ain' t finish your meal | |
| Uhh, I' m the blueprint for those who can' t lose | |
| I wrote them checks so I paid them dues | |
| Yeah Sermon, who walked in my shoes? | |
| You better be Bigfoot if not stay put | |
| Hook | |
| Verse Three: Tre | |
| So I' m the future of this music, bet your life on that | |
| Since construction paper and Crayolas I' ve been writin raps | |
| So don' t confuse me with these bamas that, ain' t got no talent | |
| And just all of a sudden up and decide to rap | |
| Ain' t no disguisin that bullshit, they ride to that bullshit | |
| Who bought ' em that bullshit? Your mom and them? | |
| She probably mad, ' bout to whup your ass for not again | |
| But don' t feel bad, you just tryin to win | |
| Talkin ' bout designers and your diamonds what you drivin in | |
| And you ain' t even behind the wheel, go to the passenger side of it | |
| Tell me why is that niggas do that? That nigga ain' t do that | |
| He lyin, he ain' t never lived through that | |
| Even people that know you hear you and be like " Who dat?" | |
| That nigga ain' t do that uhuh, I don' t believe him | |
| I been knew that, been seen through that | |
| Hear you yappin ' bout some weight you never sold | |
| People you ain' t never shoot at | |
| Take it down, let' s see whatever fairy tales you bring back | |
| You do got a good imagination though, I can tell you that | |
| This force is all boss, to fakers of all fakers | |
| Just face it, you all talk and it' s PHONY BABY | |
| Hook |
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