Hardcore

[Chorus]
Hardcore to make the brothers act fools
Hardcore to make the brothers act fools
Hardcore to make the brothers act fools
Hardcore to make the brothers act fools

[Verse 1: Parrish Smith]
When I turn the party out, all hands is in the air
Some say it's chill, New York throw chairs
It's the punk funk sound to make a sane man flip
Girls rush the stage, faggots cold dip
Low to avoid the caps and blows
By the gangbangers at the B-boy shows
Where the cops try to control the crowd
But they can't, system's cranked, "So Wat Cha Sayin" is pumpin' loud
Blows are thrown, heads are flown like Pan-Am
Brothers lickin' off like the Son of Sam and
The bass continues to thump
Some brothers hit the parking lot to go pop trunks
Hoes are slapped, jewels are snatched
Brothers are caught in the crossfire without no caps
And on my way out, I heard a sucker scream and shout
(Niggas), yeah, cold turn the party out

[Chorus]
Hardcore to make the brothers act fools
Hardcore to make the brothers act fools
Hardcore to make the brothers act fools
Hardcore to make the brothers act fools

[Verse 2: Erick Sermon]
Rap combat is where it's at and I attack
Any crab MC that's down with the wack
And I wreck, and if I can, I snap a neck
Throw a knockout blow and look for a tech
I'm terror, new edition to rap era
I can't be beat, I'm too sweet plus clever
I'm smart, yes, I'm a so-called genius
I'm equipped with the thinkin' cap they call keenness
And yo, with that, I can break fool
Especially when the posse is thick and got tools
Make me feel good 'cause they got steel
No blasters or cap guns, son, the real deal
K-A, microphone wrecker E-D
The O, the U, the B, the L to the E
Rockin' on, word is bond, so abandon ship
My name is Erick Sermon, not Wilson, but I flip
I'm far from a chump, I'm hardcore like Brooklyn
Mess with me and get your manhood tooken

[Chorus]
Hardcore
Hardcore to make the brothers act fools
Hardcore to make the brothers act fools
Hardcore to make the brothers act fools
Hardcore to make the brothers act fools

[Verse 3: Redman]
I got it goin' on, since I'm up next to flex
You could bet I drop heavy, so girls, grab your Kotex
I catch fits when I blitz a rhyme grit
And my lip gets to the point to rip some more fly shit
Redman ready to rock rough rhymes
Renegade rapper, rip when it's rhyme time
Punk, push a pen and pencil when I'm pissed
Pack pistol posse, flow some more pro shit
Fee-fi-fo-fum, funky to floor, ayy
Fuck your freak words for foreplay
Quickly, quiet is kept, never quack
On the Q-Tip I quote, I throw lines like a quarterback
A monster, murder motherfucks like Manson
A madman who mutilize men with 9-M-M
Bullets blow bad, brother, back to back, I slam
Bread and butter, break beats to Bamm-Bamm
Jump off the gym before I jack my johnson
I jam like Janet, chew MCs like Swansons
Dinners, damn, dummy, I'm diggin' a dungeon
Can you dig that I dig deep to destroy dumb-dumbs?
Yes, I yam what I yam when I jam, bro
My afro's in the house (Yo, yo, yo)
Long as I live large, life will be luxury
Ladies in Lamborghinis, love is like luck to me
Nasty nigga, competition is none
From Newark, New Jersey, knock heads like Mike Nunn
Shit, grab the steel when I'm strokin'
Smoke with shotguns, but the sign said no smokin'
Cool it, kiddo, I control from sea to sea
Cut like Chuckie, plus style is cock-D
Superman Lover, cool from the new school
Hold your breath while I walk holdin' my jewels

[Chorus]
Hardcore to make the brothers act fools
Hardcore to make the brothers act fools
Hardcore to make the brothers act fools
Hardcore to make the brothers act fools