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    Erick Sermon / Lyrics

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    "S.O.D." Lyrics

    Erick Sermon feat. Red Cafe

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    [Sy Scott]
    Yo, I'm a tic-tac-toe tactical wit it tactician
    Tit for tat, three bombs on me, we all ticking
    Schizophrenic, up in the kitchen
    With a black fifth up against my head, just, click, click, clickin' it
    We check the barrel and start respinnin' it
    We I start, medics, start sowing and restitching them
    My constituents and scorpions poisonous stingers filled with opium
    Stay grippin'' em, I've got a venomous heart, filled with vigilance
    That will shatter ten continents and ten palatinates
    Envision the vengefulness, visualize the vindictiveness
    I rhyme with Sid Vicious viciousness
    You be kiddin, soft like kittens
    My grills are pit bulls they will kill when I say sick'em
    Restrain me, restrict me
    I'm arresting resistance, can't be apprehended nigga

    You got a problem with E
    If you got a problem, come a holla at me
    And if you want it, we can get it started
    Plus I got the whole squad siding with me

    Let the catty spray and wet up the matinee
    Smack niggaz with both hands like patty-cake
    Violate and I will retaliate
    I don't battle fake niggaz, I'm heavyweight nigga
    GMG, fam, we gladly hotta
    Behold the sorcerer's stone like Harry Potter
    And I'm like harry potta, we scary riders
    Can't get near the dadda, I swear to God I'll come find where you hidin'
    Have my high, finding beamers and ninas
    Leave the area shot up, you hearing me patna
    I'm a fucking five star general, to drive cars into you
    Ic' dodge interviews, one flip of the mack, take all ten of you
    This message intended to, who's ever offended duke
    Yeah you my nigga, but you could still get it too
    So don't test me, I don't wanna do this shit to you


    [Red Cafe]
    Live from the NY state
    And I got one question, guess what's in my waste
    Ya'll got me pisted off slick talk
    To get that Jacob watch, I'll cut your wrist off
    I'm in the limo too long to turn
    And this motherfuckin' dutch taking long to burn
    I'm impatient, this is a song you learn
    Make money, take money, and I'm hear to confirm my occupation
    The new boss of course, the new Porsche
    I pull up just to murder you niggaz and move off
    You too soft, Red Cafe from New York
    I tell a bitch quick, I'm hot can't cool off
    I twist lesbos, and and guzzling out exos
    My firearms stick to my waste like Velcro
    It's R.C. nothing phony about me, with E double the O.G. you know me


    [Erick Sermon]
    Yeah I know, you never expect me to anchor
    I bring it to them so called pranksters and them gangsters
    I run DMCs, from rappers that's petter piper
    I am the big apple, ain't nobody ripper man
    I'm not M.J. I'm a lover and a fighter
    That's why I'm in D.C. now, looking for the sniper
    I came in the game with hoodies and timberlands
    Hard since Cypress Hill been wanting to kill a man
    I did time, a thirteen year bid
    I'm gutter E, I'm hanging on the side of crib
    I'm a fan, but I hate what you're doing
    Whenever you performing shows it's me booing
    Ya as soft as your bid-die, you punk now, and you gonna be a punk at sixty
    Dog, ya need more team to get me
    I'm a G, and my Unit come through like Fifty

    [Chorus x2]
    This song was submitted on March 4th, 2010 and last modified on November 24th, 2016.
    Copyright with Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group.
    Written by Erick S. Sermon, J. Denny, Neil Phillips, Sy Scott.
    Lyrics licensed by LyricFind.

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