Tonalité : C# minor
Intro 1
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Yo,
Verse 1
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whassup moneygrip, it's the E on the trip
Not to Georgia,
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but Gladys Knight and the Pips
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It's a one way ticket,
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to the highest plateau
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For a smooth rapper, and
for those that flow
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So blow like the wind
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my friend and take flight
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And "Fly, Like An Eagle"
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yeah right
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You can't rock a party
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and make hands clapper
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Cause you an N.R.er (that means
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a Non- Rapper)
So give it up sucker duck
emcee you're not ready
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To flex yet,
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or better yet rock steady
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With the E Double,
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number one on the planet
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Take it for granted,
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I'm in control like Janet
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I'm in command, plus full of fun
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But don't play me,
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cause if you do you gettin done
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And that my son comes
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to one conclusion
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Total chaos, no mas confusion
Verse 2
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Total chaos, no mas confusion
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Total chaos, no mas confusion
Verse 3
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Knock knock (aiyyo, who is it?)
The one who storms on rappers
just like a snow blizzard
Yes the microphone doctor's
back makin housecalls
To crab emcees, who claim
to have the balls
To flex with the man,
with the rep for snappin necks
I'm not the one son,
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so don't pose or make threats
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The PMD, yeah Paid and Makin Dollars
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Stranglin emcees with the microphone
cord and make em holler
I'm like,
Quick Draw McGraw when I blast past
An emcees ass,
then trash crash to smash his ass
And play his ego,
while I sip a forty- oh
And count my cashflow, because
I'm on the go
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And aiyyo I don't joke,
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and that you can bet
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I flex a rhyme on a rapper,
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play his posse and step
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Like I said in "Strictly Biz" I'm known
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to cause an illusion
To create total chaos, no mass confusion
Verse 4
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Total
chaos,
no mas confusion
Total chaos, no mas confusion
Verse 5
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No magic tricks, Houdini,
or I Dream of Jeannie
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Or disappearing acts from here to Tahiti
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It's a one two three count,
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an d I'm knockin out
Without a doubt (Why E?) I got
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clout!
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Homeboy you should know,
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I'm de commando of rap
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Carry emcees no trees,
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across my bare back
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I use measures, and yes all are drastic
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For me the E Double, cause I'm fantastic
So, I let you know, money I don't play
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Step back and you won't get smacked,
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hear what I say?
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Lay low Afro, or take a nightcap
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And if you tired (yo, then go
take a nap)
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Or close your eyes and chank
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em like a Jap
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Then lounge,
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as I rock across the map
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Yo watch me go, flame dust in seconds
Me and PMD and the sound
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from our records
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Check out the beat and the style
I'm usin
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It's total chaos, no mass confusion
Verse 6
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Total chaos, no mas confusion
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Total chaos, no mas confusion
Verse 7
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Last rhyme was for E,
this one's for the Gipper
Give me room,
'cause I'm about to rip a
Emcee's head off as I release my steam
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The method of decapitation, is the guillotine
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So check out the tempo,
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and let your body go
Cause a brother like MD's about
to go Rambo
A Microphone Doctor,
an emcee physician
An all around scholar,
a rapper technician
So put up or shut up, cause
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MD is like fed up
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You, your wack crew,
your whole damn set up
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Suckers still slippin,
you better get a grip and
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Change your wack style while the
clock still tickin
Cause pursuin and doin a brother,
is second nature
Can you feel it E Double?
(Yeah, somethin like)
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To the Microphone Doctor,
all rappers are obsolete
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You lack style and composure,
plus your rhymes are weak
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I gave you all due respect,
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when I said mic check
You're still slippin Duke, it's
time to snap that neck
Like I said in "Strictly Biz" I'm known
to cause an illusion
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To create total chaos,
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no mass confusion
Outro 1
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AccordeurE A D G B E
AccordsAm C G# C#
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