Lyrics:

[Intro]
Yeah
Since we up in this peace, yaknowI'msayin?
Representin PMD
Get on and let this niggas know what time is, youknowI'msayin ??
It's a lotta niggas out here frontin
But you know we ain't havin that
So yo we gon see niggas like this
Yo step up and represent like this nigga

[PMD]
Time to let the nuts hang
From the sacks, full
No bull, mad pull
Shittin constantly like seagulls
Boom bang, no thing to make this microphone swing
Funky B-boy from Brentwood, Long Island, and I don't sing
Parish Smith is in the house stompin' niggas out
No doubt, mad clout on a rap route
What up, troop ?
Damn G, what you talkin 'bout ?
Time..to drop rhymes while suckas drop dimes
Black Einstein say good night kids it's bed time
Nighty, Nighty, caught you sleepin
I'm snatchin props like niggas snatch bags when trick or treating
Brothers huffin' and puffin' and sayin nothing
When P talks, it's like yeah ??
Commin right back at ya like a scud
Niggas droppin duds, not down with spud
Two 'chetes plus a rowdy with a grudge
Word to the mockbird and the green herb
Some nerve, got brothers swingin at the curve ball
Wanna scream yes yes y'all
You better check your style 'cause your shit's been recalled

[Hook] *spoken over a sample*

[PMD]
Yes I'm back again
Concentratin like Nancy Kerrigan
Can't promote Timberland, far from stranded like Gilligan
Lounge, I'm dangerous, cross some bones
Sitting in the parking, lovely
Goin deep for the end zone
Be weighed, peep the air raid
Niggas pulled the pen now I'm bout to blow up
Like a hand grenade
No crews, yo chump, Benz with the 4 door
And I can fuck around nigga, my shit is hardcore (backup boy)
So bust the microphone skills and save the cheap thrill
Local neighborhood rapper still on my dizznil
Tryna scam me, damn G
Back up off me, softy
And check your pocket kid, it's empty
So don't tempt P
While you getting Pepsis
Copyin niggas styles, intros, the whole shit, G
Not with the Scam

[Hook] *spoken over a sample*

[PMD]
It's an air raid, Hit Squad's back to get paid
Back up, snap a flick, throw my grill on the front page
Don't ask no questions, you know what's on, Scooter
I'm quick with the 3rd Eye, X marks the intruder
The pitch? Going, going, gold
In New York they say that shit's phat
Detroit, it's out cold
Some call it O.E
Others Ol' Gold
Can't fold
Flip Mode
New York is in the house, I'm out, Slow Flow

[Hook] *spoken over a sample*