Underground - Intellectual

[Chorus]

Comin' straight from the underground

I'm comin' straight from the underground

Yeah, comin' straight from the underground

[Verse 1: Erick Sermon]

As I pump up a brand new funk swing

And bring back the chill or thrill from B.B. King

Old-fashioned is the way that I be waxin'

An MC, I bust a grill and the reaction, I check

Inspect, make sure the head's wrecked

Snap a neck for some live effects

A machine malfunctioning, that's mean

I stay together, my man, like Al Green

I'm a slayer, the E-R-I-C-K and I'm back

To attack a punk chump that ain't sayin' jack

Boom, I'm buckwild when I'm stoned

I close only one eye like a cyclone

So I throw on my black shades that's rhinestone

Jump into my Benz that's outlined in chrome

I'm the grand royal MC, I'm no joke

I hit like a Phillie blunt when it's toked

I smoke an MC well done, he gets done

I'm knockin' out wack MCs like Michael Nunn

Full power, one-punch crunch, I'm throwin' bolos

I'm strapped heavy, my handguns that's solo

I'm packed when it's time to get down

'Cause Erick Sermon's comin' straight from the underground

[Chorus]

I'm comin' straight from the underground

[Verse 2: Parrish Smith]

Okie-dokie, my mind gets slowpokey when I toke the pull

From a Phillie blunt and I hope me

Olde Gold is cold when I pop the cap

Take a sip and then blitz, then crack a back with a rhyme sack

'Cause I'm too smooth, paid my dues, and can't lose

I'm top gun, pullin' bitches like Tom Cruise

And my main man D-Wade still gets paid

And on the offseason, we vacate in the shade

So all hail the Mary, crack the Moët

Blast the boombox, then act like George and jet son

'Cause my style similar to Taekwondo

But ayy, yo, I don't kick or throw stars, this brother flows

To the funk track, with 808 drops for props

No type of druggin' or thuggin', DTs or cops

I say no to blow, yes to sess, and I suggest

You put a buck on lotto, and if you win, you should invest

On a new grill, Bill, 'cause I rock none until

The fat lady sings or Brooklyn starts to ill

But there's a fat chance with the brother Bistro

'Cause I'm the master of the quadraverb and the echo

There's no time to stop, so P keep on steppin'

On the edge of the frame of the mind, the nine is the weapon

That I choose to squeeze when a brother bucks wild

One slug to the head, mafioso style

You catch a universal beatdown with sounds that pound

Watch yourself, son, I'm comin' straight from the underground

[Chorus: Erick Sermon]

I'm comin' straight from the underground

Straight from the underground

[Outro: Erick Sermon]

Nofu in the house, Hit Squad

Yeah, 99 OP

Sewed