Underground lyrics

[Chorus]
Comin' straight from the underground
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
I'm comin' straight from the underground
I'm comin' straight from the underground
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' b*tches 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
I'm comin' straight from the underground
Straight from the underground

[Outro: Erick Sermon]
Nofu in the house, Hit Squad
Yeah, 99 OP
Sewed