You're A Customer

Knick-knack patty whack give a dog a bone

Yo, don't give him nothing but a microphone

Don't stop, I'm not finished yet

You said I'm not the E, you wanna make a bet?

Remember this: Lounge, you in the danger zone

I figured you would, now leave me alone

You pick and you wish on a four-leaf clover

To be the E double E over and over

You're intrigued by the way I do my thing

(Do what?) Pick up the mic high and make it swing

I have the capability to rap and chill

Cold wax and tax MCs who tend to act ill

It's like a Diggum Smack

Smack me and I'll smack you back

I get goosebumps when the baseline thumps

A sucker MC arrives, now it's time for lunch

When I'm cooling on the scene, I notice one thing

I'm not Bounce, so sucker MC's cling

I consider myself better than average

Yo, I rock the mic like a wild beast savage

I'm in the bottling state, I can't concentrate

I make a move like chess, and then I yell, "checkmate"

You know why I get zanier and zanier?

Because of EPMD mania

When I walk through the crowd I can see heads turning

I hear voices saying, "That's Erick Sermon"

Not only from the women, but from the men

You know what? It feels good, my friend

I'm the P double E, the Thrilla of Manilla

Better known as the MC cold killer

PMD cold keeps the place jumping

And if not then we feel like we owe you something

Like lotto, you have to be in it to win it

But if the beat is fresh then Diamond J will spin it

If J spin it, then it has to be fresh

To make you dance until there's no one left

Cause you a customer

Get down, get down

Get down, get down

Get down, get down

Get down, get down

Praying like a prey when the fox in action

I smell blood, no time for maxing

Camouflage in the green, my back is arc

Plus you in trouble 'cause it's after dark

My eyes close like Steve Austin, I got you in the square

I won't let you run, nah, that ain't fair

So I clear my visions until I can spot him

Snatch him by the neck and say "Hmm I got him"

Whenever MC's, you're in over your head

My rhymes are hungry plus they haven't been fed

The process of elimination is quite simple

Let you grow like a blackhead and pop you like a pimple

Slice you like lettuce, toss you like a salad

Revoke your MC license if your rhymes ain't valid

As we go on, sucker MC's sound wacker

Like a parrot says "Polly want a cracker"

It was a record test, nothing we can't handle

At the house they had the mics on the mantle

Looked at the DJ and said "May I?"

Lit it up like the Fourth of July

Because I float like a butterfly, sting like a bee

Woah, I'm the E of EPMD

I have a strong point of view on the way things run

Just shut up and listen and learn my son

Absorb that ass like Bounty, the quicker picker upper

To tell you up front, you're nothing but a sucker

The style we're using, no doubt copasetic

You try to bite and yet sound pathetic

Design my rhymes like a tailor, floatin' like a sailor

As the P gets stronger, MC's get staler

Not bragging or protagging, surely not fagging

MC's surrender, raise the flags and

Give up the titles because the signs are vital

I keep a voice tuned at a slow and swift idle

You a customer

Get down, get down

Get down, get down

Get down, get down

Get down, get down

I need a man meal sandwich, yes I need Manwich

I feel good, now it's time to do damage

I feel like balanced, you know what I mean?

Wanna rhyme one time, to release the steam

When I grab the mic I get dramatic like an actor

You know why I get over? I'm the master

I do a show, pack it in til it's clamming up

Look for the microphone then jam it up

You said you see me jamming in New York Tech

You got one right fella, you deserve a check

How did you know, you must have been joking

How do you know the places I be rocking?

Don't follow me fella, every move that I make

I'm hostile now so I'll give you a break

Well search upon me but don't go past the limit

Here's a card and on the back is my fan club digits

There's two things to check out in the words that I'm saying

Plus listen to the good time playing

Bro is bad, the strings he's plucking

Fire rhyme after rhyme, watch MC's duck and

MC's, the final countdown

You look tired, can you go the round?

If you can, I'll slap your hand and give you credit

And if not, I'll turn around and say "Forget it"

People say that I'm a party pooper

To tell the truth I'm a born trooper

You a customer

You a customer