Erick Sermon - Street Hop (Featuring Redman & Tre) Lyrics

This ain't rappin', this is street hop
Now get up off yo' like yo' seats hot
This ain't rappin', this is street hop
Now get up off yo' like yo' seats hot

Yeah, Redman uh, E. Sermon, Tre

Yeah, yo, I'm Doc, Brick City, know how I rock
I'm hip hop, I live up in the rim shop
I blow out my tires then I buy some mo'
My car's Ying Yang'n the way it sit low
A little Anita, a little Vandross
I got two guns to give you secondhand smoke
I'm no joke, this ain't Hanna Barbera
It's the Bricks, Mandela on Anteras

In my rear mirror, a freak approach
Knew she wasn't first class 'cause her bag was Coach
She was like, "Redman! Buy me boots"
So I, bought her Timbs, and a army suit
Nobody want it with Doc, you smell me Duke?
Front page, smokin' L's in The Daily News
Y'all cats big time, but the tops are turned
When you in the same realm as, Doc and Serm', yeah

This ain't rappin', this is street hop
Now get up off yo' like yo' seats hot
And hear the record it's hot say, one two, one two, one two
This ain't rappin', this is street hop
Now get up off yo' like yo' seats hot
And hear the record it's hot say, one two, one two, one two

E-Dub in the flesh, no replacement
I still bring trunk funk from the basement
Peeimp MC, my style's mackadocious
Boy, ask her-on who the dopest
E steppin' to me, better-a think twice
I'm nice, the outcome be 'The Passion of Christ'
You get ripped, you ain't equipped to rock with the vandal
I change your Timberlands to sandals

Thug MC's, thinkin' they hard
When they walk around the block with six bodyguards
Yo, I'm a big dawg, you a pup
It's like comparin' a car to a truck
What, you spend dough for airplay when you network
That ain't fair, that ain't the way the street work
This is street hop, nuttin' about pride
For you, I'ma keep them ambulances outside, you dig?

This ain't rappin', this is street hop
Now get up off yo' like yo' seats hot
You hear the record it's hot say, one two, one two, one two
This ain't rappin', this is street hop
Now get up off yo' like yo' seats hot
You hear the record it's hot say, one two, one two, one two

All them rappers that can't rhyme
What is you doin' is a crime
Sayin' that garbage all the time
Word up, yeah

That's how I'm livin', still a gangsta, still a pimpin' mack
All around hustler, 9 to 5 flippin' crack
Tryin' to stay up out of prison, steady spittin' raps
Not to mention spittin' scraps, don't mix your puddy-tat with that
Dhark Citi, put it on your map
Don't ride through without your pistol, put it on your lap
And I don't look for beef but don't think that I won't attack
Have you in a coffin momma like, "He don't belong in that"

You shoulda thought of that before the fact
Why a roll the dice, lose all they money, then they want it back?
But that's a bunch of crap
But f'real jyo, don't gamble witcha life, 'cause ain't no comin' back

This ain't rappin', this is street hop
Now get up off yo' like yo' seats hot
You hear the record it's hot say, one two, one two, one two
This ain't rappin', this is street hop
Now get up off yo' like yo' seats hot
You hear the record it's hot say, one two, one two, one two

This ain't rappin', this is street hop
Now get up off yo' like yo' seats hot, yeah
You hear the record it's hot say, one two, one two, one two
This ain't rappin', this is street hop
Now get up off yo' like yo' seats hot, yeah