Brothers on My Jock

Brothers on my jock for the way I hold a piece of steel [x4]

So what cha saying

[Verse One: Redman]

I go wild as I sip from a cold Lowenbrau

Set up rhymes like fire to gunpowder

Boom, did the bassline crank

From being rated R, from being top rank

I'm hard like an erection

Phrases might get too tough to break down in sections

So I grab a pen and pad, I'm back

to make a killer, similar to a backstab

Don't arrest me, arrest my brain, it's insane

If I'm booty, then I've been framed

By an MC, who can't be the R-E-D

Fuck wit me, you'll get slapped up and capped up easy

By me and a tre-eight pistol, so vacate the premises

Or ask for Mayday, Mayday

For H-E-L-P, brothers tell me

I'm electrifyin, similar to round three

I don't brag and boast but smash and roast

MC's wit degrees from here to the West Coast

I'm miracle wit no abrakadaba

Piece of membranes will smash like crackers

Were they Ritz, Saltine, or Town House

None of the above get caught wit the roundhouse

Kick, blackflip, semifull

My vocal chord prove my pull ain't bull

I'm down wit the Squad, no more than four to five brothers

Six or more, you seen got smothered

By a fist of fury, next is the verdict

Let's hear it from the jury

[Chorus]

[Verse Two: PMD]

I'm a nightmare to rappers, terror to an MC

Cold wreck the nigga wit the help of E-D

Aggravation, don't need it, so get off my dick

Master of disaster, no time for flicks

Straight up b-boy, Real McCoy like Bruce Leroy

Strap the bozack when I'm stabbin a skeezoid

Gangsta rap, it's Daddy Mack wit a bozack

Roy the funk punk pumps skunk like a smokestack

So swing low and lick up balls

I'm like Scharzenegger, correcting shit in Total Re-

call up E-D and the posse that's ten deep

To wax a sucker nigga booty rappin MC

So step off cause you gets no props

So stick the fork in him, Redman (why) cause he's done

[Chorus]

[Verse Three: Erick Sermon]

I'm E-D, I belong wit the A-Team

A one man wreckin machine, by all means

Necessary, I destroyed on contact

No fear, of getting killed cause I'm strapped

The Hit Squad's deep, making it sweet

to creep, on my crew so you don't sleep

My mic is caffeine, similar to Maxwell

Making it smooth for me, yes, to wax well

And you might get scared and spark a stove

Cause I pack steel but Hold On like En Vogue

My swiftness, I got a gift not for Christmas

God bless, mmm-hmm, can I get a witness

I'm fresh like a bag of Chips Ahoy

No toy, I'm a hardcore b-boy

Once again, I quote, I'm danger

I smoked Smokey the Bear and killed the forest ranger

Poof, the fire's out and I'm gone

Peace to Mandela and Farrakhan

[Chorus]