| Song | Nobody's Safe Chump |
| Artist | EPMD |
| Album | Business Never Personal |
| Download | Image LRC TXT |
| 作词 : Sermon, Smith | |
| (Erick Sermon) | |
| Ah yeah, it's the home of the microphone master, Houdini | |
| I'm dope, some don't believe me | |
| Unless, I stress and bust a cap from steel | |
| Aim for the dome, show em that I'm real hardcore | |
| The underground rapper who's wrecking | |
| I pack a Smith and Wesson on my right section | |
| I'm strappep, at all time, Jack | |
| Nine mills to gap, for a punk suck new jack | |
| I must stay focus and keep my mind open | |
| The world's mass confusion, there mad guns smoking | |
| For punks trying to get respect and yearning | |
| Mess around and catch a bad one from Erick Sermon | |
| I'm serious, boy, but not Jermaine Jackson | |
| I also have a 12 gauge shotgun for action | |
| So chill, back the hell up and get a grip | |
| Get off that, thinking that you're all that real quick | |
| Like the Rude Boys said | |
| It's written all over your face, punk, nobody's safe | |
| Nobody's safe chump, so keep your doors locked(4x) | |
| (PMD) | |
| It's the hardcore rap music that make your ears ring | |
| ?Joys of funk?, produce a song to make my fans sing | |
| Singing, swinging, hum along, thump my rap song | |
| I bet I get wreck on a DL, then the P's gone | |
| Poof, no phonebooth, cape, or tight suit | |
| Dress in all black, black skullcap, black down goose | |
| To hide the mockbird, word, wit the pistol grip | |
| Squeeze em quick, show who's crossing wit the loose lip | |
| Cuz loose lips sink ships, don't need a ship to catch a nine clip | |
| I ain't going out on some bull---- | |
| Bankshot, corner pocket, now watch me rock it | |
| Can't mock the rap style so, boy, stop it | |
| (So what's the name)John Doe, 'K it's a slow flow | |
| ?Swiss miff?, crazy, the boy's loco | |
| Like Neon Deion Sanders, call him primetime | |
| (It's the new style) time to get mine | |
| Cuz nobody's safe in the fast pace of the rap race | |
| So keep your hoodies on and your boots laced | |
| Now I'm out, beaming back to the boon dox | |
| Nobody's safe chump, so keep your doors locked |
| zuo ci : Sermon, Smith | |
| Erick Sermon | |
| Ah yeah, it' s the home of the microphone master, Houdini | |
| I' m dope, some don' t believe me | |
| Unless, I stress and bust a cap from steel | |
| Aim for the dome, show em that I' m real hardcore | |
| The underground rapper who' s wrecking | |
| I pack a Smith and Wesson on my right section | |
| I' m strappep, at all time, Jack | |
| Nine mills to gap, for a punk suck new jack | |
| I must stay focus and keep my mind open | |
| The world' s mass confusion, there mad guns smoking | |
| For punks trying to get respect and yearning | |
| Mess around and catch a bad one from Erick Sermon | |
| I' m serious, boy, but not Jermaine Jackson | |
| I also have a 12 gauge shotgun for action | |
| So chill, back the hell up and get a grip | |
| Get off that, thinking that you' re all that real quick | |
| Like the Rude Boys said | |
| It' s written all over your face, punk, nobody' s safe | |
| Nobody' s safe chump, so keep your doors locked 4x | |
| PMD | |
| It' s the hardcore rap music that make your ears ring | |
| ? Joys of funk?, produce a song to make my fans sing | |
| Singing, swinging, hum along, thump my rap song | |
| I bet I get wreck on a DL, then the P' s gone | |
| Poof, no phonebooth, cape, or tight suit | |
| Dress in all black, black skullcap, black down goose | |
| To hide the mockbird, word, wit the pistol grip | |
| Squeeze em quick, show who' s crossing wit the loose lip | |
| Cuz loose lips sink ships, don' t need a ship to catch a nine clip | |
| I ain' t going out on some bull | |
| Bankshot, corner pocket, now watch me rock it | |
| Can' t mock the rap style so, boy, stop it | |
| So what' s the name John Doe, ' K it' s a slow flow | |
| ? Swiss miff?, crazy, the boy' s loco | |
| Like Neon Deion Sanders, call him primetime | |
| It' s the new style time to get mine | |
| Cuz nobody' s safe in the fast pace of the rap race | |
| So keep your hoodies on and your boots laced | |
| Now I' m out, beaming back to the boon dox | |
| Nobody' s safe chump, so keep your doors locked |
| zuò cí : Sermon, Smith | |
| Erick Sermon | |
| Ah yeah, it' s the home of the microphone master, Houdini | |
| I' m dope, some don' t believe me | |
| Unless, I stress and bust a cap from steel | |
| Aim for the dome, show em that I' m real hardcore | |
| The underground rapper who' s wrecking | |
| I pack a Smith and Wesson on my right section | |
| I' m strappep, at all time, Jack | |
| Nine mills to gap, for a punk suck new jack | |
| I must stay focus and keep my mind open | |
| The world' s mass confusion, there mad guns smoking | |
| For punks trying to get respect and yearning | |
| Mess around and catch a bad one from Erick Sermon | |
| I' m serious, boy, but not Jermaine Jackson | |
| I also have a 12 gauge shotgun for action | |
| So chill, back the hell up and get a grip | |
| Get off that, thinking that you' re all that real quick | |
| Like the Rude Boys said | |
| It' s written all over your face, punk, nobody' s safe | |
| Nobody' s safe chump, so keep your doors locked 4x | |
| PMD | |
| It' s the hardcore rap music that make your ears ring | |
| ? Joys of funk?, produce a song to make my fans sing | |
| Singing, swinging, hum along, thump my rap song | |
| I bet I get wreck on a DL, then the P' s gone | |
| Poof, no phonebooth, cape, or tight suit | |
| Dress in all black, black skullcap, black down goose | |
| To hide the mockbird, word, wit the pistol grip | |
| Squeeze em quick, show who' s crossing wit the loose lip | |
| Cuz loose lips sink ships, don' t need a ship to catch a nine clip | |
| I ain' t going out on some bull | |
| Bankshot, corner pocket, now watch me rock it | |
| Can' t mock the rap style so, boy, stop it | |
| So what' s the name John Doe, ' K it' s a slow flow | |
| ? Swiss miff?, crazy, the boy' s loco | |
| Like Neon Deion Sanders, call him primetime | |
| It' s the new style time to get mine | |
| Cuz nobody' s safe in the fast pace of the rap race | |
| So keep your hoodies on and your boots laced | |
| Now I' m out, beaming back to the boon dox | |
| Nobody' s safe chump, so keep your doors locked |