Respirando La Luna
Você me faz correr atrás do horizonte dessa highway
Ninguém por perto, silêncio no deserto,
Deserta highway
Estamos sós e nenhum de nós sabe exatamente onde vai parar
Mas não precisamos saber pra onde vamos, nós só precisamos ir
Não queremos ter o que não temos... nós só queremos viver
Sem motivos, nem objetivos, estamos vivos e isso é tudo
É sobretudo a lei da Infinita Highway
Quando eu vivia e morria na
Freestyle - Erick Sermon
Oooooh! Ah ah! Word is bond
Erick Sermon and Funkmaster Flex, ummmm
This style come next, ummmm
Ooh! My style's miraculous
Known like crack or angel dust up on the corner
I'm dirty like pneumonia
Stylistic, Erick makes the world go round
I'm devious mischievious, and if y'all believe in this
then cool, alrighty then
Let's begin with this masquerade without George Benson's rendition
Huh, don't forget boy I'm still Hittin Switches
Hittin nubianses with rags or re-iches
Whatever's clever, I still be the Funklord
E Double, from EPMD from NYC
My style starts more fights than hockey
I Wayne Gretzky, on any MC
Double or Nothing, raise your bets
If you got it empty your pockets
Shit take the gold off your watches
Huh, I'm confidence
I will Trailblaze you and your crew to Portland
First class wearin WalkMans
Now, who let the bones out the closet
The fans cut you off like if they were Lorena Bobbitt's boy
That's trifling, and was it deserved maybe
That's more evil than Rosemary's baby
Anybody outcast the E I'm doin him
Try my best to ruin dem and outright screwin em
From Boyz II Men, turn men to boys
From child to kids for whatever dey did
You dig? You crossed the wrong bridge and it's over
It's rigged, with all types of deadly explosives
Watch out, I'm Serious like Jermaine Jackson
I call Red when it's Time 4 Sum Aksion
I'm coming through with the ultimate
Ultra-style-Magnetic, funkdafied shit from me Erick
Who said the E can't rock? That's bullshit
Suck my dick and get a big fat lick of my balls
You wanna brawl? Punk I thought not
You might get beat down, stomped like Sasquatch
Your girl, like Keith Sweat, "I wanna..."
Fuck her, psych I already stuck her
Huh, I got rhymes to make your whole head swell up
Here's an icepack homeboy shut the hell up
Huh, Erick Sermon comes through
I can't be stopped, I'm like a runaway train
No Half-Steppin like if I was Kane
I come through the crowd Rugged-Sluggish, to the Bone
I grab the microphone niggaz know me, whassup homey
Who wanna go through me
I fuck around and blow him and repeats what they done
I gets dumb, one two one
Did your shit is done, one two