EPMD
Rap is Outta Control
[Intro]
Tom J in the house
Rap is outta control
Tom— Tom— Tom— Tom— Tom J in the house
Rap is outta control
Rap is outta control
Rap is outta control (G, man)
Rap is outta control
Rap is outta control
Rap is outta control

[Verse 1: Erick Sermon]
G, man, do I have the power like He-Man?
To crack a wack MC's head open like a pecan?
Damn, my name should become Sam
But I prefer that Grand Royal for the jam
I'm pulling heads out, the guns I use to pump lead out
Hey, son, I suggest that you head out
I total, cremate, strike 'em like Flex
I won't break, I make more nerves than a earthquake
Strong, got more strength than King Kong
I'm worldwide, I'm interviewed with Connie Chung
I'm on now, live at 12, it's so dope
All the way to 4 o'clock, there no soaps
I'm able to rock the mic nice and stable
It's a chance that you might see me on Cable
Vision, Showtime or HBO with the flow
Getting more play than Rambo
Ayo, what do you know?
Party people, rap is outta control
Rap is outta control, it's definitely, fuckin', it's outta control
Rap is outta control, rap is definitely outta control
It's outta control, rap is outta control
[Verse 2: PMD]
Straight from the underground where universal beatdown is a must
Yo, I smell crab MC, E (Too late, he got crushed)
Was he a pop-rap singer, R&B swinger?
A faggot who jumped the gate and now you get the finger?
In other words, it's absurd to try to get with
The brother from Brentwood, Long Island nicknamed Swift Lip
I'm too smooth and yes, I groove to the slam track
With a Beck's in my right hand, left hand on bozack
I move on ya posse, first reaction was "Oh shit
Let's do that brother, hell no (Why?), he's too quick"
So dial 1-900-55-EAT-SHIT
I pack a twelve-shot nine mil' and, yes, I still kick (What?)
Ass like a jock (Height?), 6'3" and stocky (Last name?)
Not Balboa, so motherfuck Rocky
I'm the mainstream supreme, slammin' like Hakeem The Dream
And, yes, sometimes it may seem that

[Chorus]
Rap is outta control
Rap is outta control, for sure dude
Rap-ra-ra-rap-rap, ra-ra, for sure dude
Rap is outta control
Yes, yes y'all, yes y'all
Yes y'all, yes y'all, kick it E
[Verse 3: Erick Sermon & PMD]
I stand tall, I won't fall, I recall
Haha, your rhymes stall
When I bust caps until they Kryptonite caps
I bring the steel, I swap bullets like caps
I'm like Superman
Fly high, way up in the sky
And if you try to shoot me down, clown, I won't die
I cremate, I hate, let's exterminate
Wait for a second, E, time to debate
As I take my fisherman hat off, there's no hap
For an MC on a trail of a mere comeback
I rock fisherman buckets, no top hats
And if you wanna see a flick—