Manslaughter

[Intro: PMD]
Manslaughter
Manslaughter
Manslaughter

[Verse 1: Erick Sermon]
Code name ED, check on the one, two, three
Black male, hard MC
Rap record slave, a brother on the scene
With a machine gun and one magazine
Wanted, a half a million for the body alone
Two million for the microphone
If you see him, dial five-dash-slayer
A hotline to the governor and mayor
He's armed with ammo, a weapon that's mine
All black in rap, strap TEC-9
Silencer clipped, check the rip on the sneak tip
The boy's about to flip

[Chorus]
Manslaughter
Manslaughter
They call him manslaughter
Manslaughter

[Verse 2: PMD]
Code name MD, rappin' fanatic
No short taken, Black Asiatic
Hit man, keeps my belt unbuckled
Book a look on my grill with no signs of a chuckle
Or laughter, 'cause my name ain't Casper
The Friendly Ghost, but I smoke an MC if I have to
Quick fast like alakazoo, alakazam
And I'll be damned, 'cause my rhymes slam like Bamm-Bamm
Rubble, partner code name is E Double
It's those hazel green eyes that keep my man in trouble
Girls ride the tip, brothers on his sack
Had to change my name to Bruce Wayne, also known as Batman
And grab the bozack with this hand
As I slay ya, manslaughter

[Chorus]
Manslaughter
They call him manslaughter
Manslaughter

[Verse 3: Erick Sermon]
Mad man, fully strapped, and I quote
Don't flex, last chump who did, he got smoked
Undercover, not DT, but ED
And wonder why you're spinnin' my records on thirty-three
I'm the original, never did crime, I'm no criminal
No static, pack a 45 automatic
Black cat strapped with raps, holding my johnson
Walkin' the streets, a vigilante Charles Bronson
As the beat kick, face his plate on the M1 done
Style's sharper than a blade in Shogun
First suckers disrupt the brain of a sucker MC
That can't count one, two, three
I manage to damage or roast the whole membrane
Insane like a basehead doing cocaine
I kill a farmer plus his daughter
'Cause I'm the E Double and this is manslaughter

[Chorus]
They call us manslaughter
They call it manslaughter
Manslaughter

[Verse 4: PMD]
As I stare deep into the mirror, I could only resort
To a hardcore gangster penile train of thought
You're stomped out, you're beat down, you go big top shit
Run your trunk jewels or get pistol whipped
'Cause I'm too swift to slip or miss a stitch on my rap hit
Sleep on a sucker and you still can't get with
Me, bro, with this flow and I don't know judo
Gun Fu is my style, say this so that you know
There's no time to dance or romance with a nuisance
Play ya like a puppet to put some lead in ya pants
Then off you go to the rap rat pack
We stripped of your mic, punk, and on your head, we stamped bozack
That's what the doctor ordered
Take two of these, dead, manslaughter

[Chorus]
They call it manslaughter
They call it manslaughter
Manslaughter
To the farmer and his daughter, manslaughter