歌手:Nas
专辑:《King's Disease II》

作曲 : Chauncey Hollis Jr./Erick Sermon/Marshall B Mathers III/Nas/Parrish J. Smith
Respectfully
Bucket on low like Erick and Parrish
Closed casket flow, all you n1ggas get deaded
They don't give you one single rose while you can smell it
So I pick from my own garden (Garden)
Wanna go out in my garden like Godfather
Grandkids and a Rottweiler got over the block trauma (Yeah, trauma)
So what you sayin', n1gga? You gots to chill (Uh-huh)
Thinkin' you the truth, really you not for real (EPMD!)
Back to back with it, the hardest sx1t of the year

(Nasir Jones, remix)
EPMD, we back in business
Ain't nobody fvxkin' with us, come to your senses (Uh)
P is the second comin' of God, somethin' to witness
Piece of sx1t, fly on your head like Mike Pence's
We in the trenches
I'm mad, better yet, I'm on a rampage
My people can't even get minimum wage
Fvxk a stimulus (Uh)
Give me some interest (Uh)
Give me a loan (Oh)
Give me a home
Give me that land you owe me, so I can roam
So when you trespass, blaow, one in your dome
Best wishes, ghost 'em like he Tommy
Ain't worried 'bout nothin' 'cause Hit Squad behind me

EPMD, we back in business
I visualize what it is, not what is isn't
We at the mafia table next to the kitchen
Eatin' Michelin Stars, countin' a million
Dun!
I let it go for the family, meeting's at Cote in Miami, them wine bottles on maggie, extra large
Sign up for my masterclass, Escobar
Feet up at Mets Stadium, at my restaurant
Tied in from AZ to Dave East, you know my thoughts get crazy
My teachers, they couldn't grade me, I know some Haitians in Dade County
Got choppers in Haiti, she booked a flight to Colombia
Made her body amazin', just to post it on Tumblr
This that "fvxk up the summer" sx1t, I don't care what you comin' with
Me and Hit-Boy, runnin' sx1t (Runnin' sx1t)
Big gold, rope chains, but they flooded now (Yeah, flooded now)
PulI up with the Ghost like a haunted house (Haunted house)
She gettin' scary, blood on my hands like Carrie
Might walk through a cemetery and see where hip-hop is buried
I said it was dead, but it faked its death like Machiavelli
You see letters in red splatter, looks like sauce and spaghetti

(Yeah, ready?)
EPMD, we're back in business (What?)
Livin' in cramped conditions, will give you ammunition
I stock those shelves, I got those shells like Taco Bell and I'm not gon' fail
I got no L's like Christmas
You don't wanna make the claws come out (Nah)
Y'all should call yourselves Santa (Why?)
'Cause none of y'all are real (Nah)
Nah, not a single one (Like what?)
Like a dollar bill
Just like your b1xch in appellate court
She's on a pill
We got her bond and she'll
Never bail on me (Bail on me), not even outta jail (Haha, jail)
EPMD, but me, I gots no chill (Ch-chill)
Just a lotta skrill
Lady, my paper's so crazy
I just tossed a mil' out the window of my mobile on the fvxkin' freeway on the way here (Yeah)
Like Rudolph and his homies when they pullin' the sleigh, yeah
That's a lot of bucks flyin' when I'm makin' it rain, dear
Green on me but no weed shorty, just these, darling
A pocket full of pills, some are Tylenol 3s, prolly two or three Molly
So some are E, which reminds me of "Rap Summary"
Mami, my theme song, me and P
Always used to play that sx1t on repeat all day, so please call me "Big Daddy" (Daddy)
Plus I got the Kane and "Lean On Me" (Yeah)
MCs, I'm eatin' you B-I-T-C-H's like tortilla chips, me, I'm free of debt, yeah green is on Chia Pet (Woo)
This is the effects of my whole neighborhood, misery index, poverty at its peak, OCD and PTSD, I guess
R.I.P. out to DMX, Stezo E and Nipsey, Ecstasy and Prince Markie Dee
MF DOOM, I hit 50 via text, told him that I love him 'cause I don't even know when I'ma see him next (Nah)
Tomorrow could be a death (Bring that beat back)
Yeah, and this sx1t ain't for the faint
'Cause the brain's illa trained killer, danger, deranged, and I drank all the DayQuil (Yeah), I blank on the paper
Then wait 'til the page fill up (What?), hate spiller, shameful the strength of a pain pill or tranq', I just pray for the day when I'm able to say
That l'm placed with the greats, and my name's with the Kane's, and the Wayne's, and the Jay's, and the Dre's, and the Ye's, and the Drake's, and the J Dilla's, Jada's, Cool J's
And the Ra's and amazin' as Nas is, and praise to the Gods of this, shout to the golden age of hip-hop, and the name of this song is

EPMD, we back in business
I visualize what it is, not what is isn't
We at the mafia table next to the kitchen
Eatin' Michelin Stars, countin' a million