Boldy James & The Alchemist – E.P.M.D Lyrics

Boldy James and The Alchemist E.P.M.D Lyrics, E.P.M.D Lyrics by Boldy James & The Alchemist

Oh, wow
It’s one of those, huh
That’s how we playin’?
These niggas playin’ dirty
These niggas playin’ foul
Where we at? (Uh)

When I be on the west side, niggas know that I rotate with Percival
In the streets, it’s for keeps with us, so don’t take it personal (Uh uh)
When them city slickers beatin’ down your block, this shit is strictly business
E.P.M.D, everybody plottin’ my demise (Blocks)
I marvel at the sight of ‘caine, I love to watch it rise
If this was love at first site, then we was lockin’ eyes (Where we at?)
Got a fetish for them butter babies who love the ladies
Just as much as I do, ain’t gon’ up if I ain’t got to
Could’ve shot you, but you pussy, I ain’t have to, but I took it
When I robbed him, he like, “Boldy, please don’t kill me, shit’ll cook me”
I ain’t run off with your work, bitch, I took it (Take that, take that)
Take a nigga brick, slap him, then you sell it back to them
You still in Brooklyn? This the proof in the puddin’ (Uh)
Told my plug to leave me some room if it’s any cushion (Package)
The center of attention, fresh out of central bookin’ (Blockworks)
My niggas wolves in sheep’s clothing and all you niggas woofin’
Where we at? Nigga you tell me
Went to the principal for help, she just expelled me
Gotta task the sack right off of Macktown and Bellvie
Them I caught some Act’ across the track, that shit derailed me
Stay with my old faithful ’cause she never fail me
Gotta keep that hammer close for niggas tryna nail me to the cross
Brodie say, “Get ’em gone”, we gon’ finish niggas off
It’s whatever niggas on, tell him tell it to his boss

Oh, they took all the tabs and the gel caps
Tell that pussy nigga run and tell that
Better boss up, lil’ nigga
Or get bossed down, gang

When I be on the east side, niggas know that I’m tied in with mob heads
Press ’em, fresh out of prison, put that chicken on an opp head (Brr)
Strapped with that maggy, that’s an automatic five fig’
Give a fuck about goin’ back, he just happy that he not dead (He alive)
‘Cause when you ridin’ [?] on the drop head
You gotta keep a clip full of heat seekers for the hot heads (Cops)
Walkin’ out of Gucci with a six, papa bought a brickie
Played it off, copped my bitch some kicks out of Foot Locker (Big bag)
‘Fore we drove them roxies through the fire we was script poppers
Deuce of Mortongrove had me higher than a witch doctor (Right)
Big [?] on my solar plex, since he wanna flex (Gang time)
Uppin’ on ’em, make a pussy come up out his rolodex (You know it)
Big body on chrome, ’96 Impala (Big body)
It’s a lack of respect without the money and the power (Know what I mean)
Was so impressed the first time I cooked a brick of powder (Remix)
It made me wanna get out here, grit up a million dollars