Lyrics:

(Parrish Smith:)
Aiyyo whassup e double?

(Erick Sermon:)
Yo whassup man?

(Parrish Smith:)
Yo these crab mc's got us trapped up behind these walls man
But I'm ready to break out of here and do this, yaknahmsayin'?
So what's the magic word?

(Erick Sermon:)
Open sesame, and let down the main gate
Before you screamed epmd, you shouldn't wait
I roll with a posse, hey you tried to stop me
Also yo, your brothers tried to pop me
On the sneak tip, without me knowin'
So I keep goin', and my rhymes keep flowin
On and on, and I don't quit
I get pushed to the limit, and yo that's it
Step by step, I put an end to your fun
'Cause I'm the chosen one, yes me my son
A young kid from the ghetto, a kiddie from the city
I don't feel sorrow, and I have no pity
To run up on you, and wax plus tax
Your gold, your money, and from your eyes your contacts
Then flex over, a hop skip and a jump
To the next town, to go punk a chump
Mc's try to diss me, and try to bust caps
I'm not havin' it, and that means no haps jack
So get the bozack, only off the crack, that's wack
This is the big payback

(Parrish Smith:)
As I go and flow, to a different type of tempo
Why MD? - C'mon e, the 'P' keeps it simple
Plus I'm strikin' like lightnin', throwin' blows like Tyson
Slayin' mc's on the q-t, sorta like a sniper
So if a sucker don't like me, the feeling is mutual
I took my rhyme to a lower rpm, then shift to neutral
Then crack a 40 - What kind of olde e
To slay an mc - how on the q-t
So what's your name boy? - C'mon, you know it's m.d.
So while I'm wreckin' he's checkin', all the bodies that's left and
A pile behind the stage, the p is like steppin'
Off from the scenes, I see lights and si-rens
Witness everywhere, but no one seen a thing
When cops ask questions, my description is vague
No answers at all, just bodies behind the stage
One witness yells out, that he was dressed in black
Stupid dookie link, with a fisherman hat
A cop said, 'yo, how'd he flee from the spot? '
'In a black sports car, I think it was an iroc
But the windows were tinted, and we couldn't get a look'
Why? - there was smoke from the rubber he cooked
The big payback

(Erick Sermon:)
No Rome-et-oh, or Juliette romance story
Just epmd, the fame and the glory
The rappin' technique, somethin' like fencin', dangerous
It keeps you in suspense
And you have to be cool, and plus have stamina
'Cause if you don't, I'm gonna end up stabbin ya
In your guts, from the razor cuts
And I'ma stick and pick, until your mind goes nuts
It might sound gross, or make your stomach bubble
But don't never ever ever, mess with e double
I'm like jumpin' jack flash, a spy with an eye
I do no stunts, and I'm not the fall guy
I'm just the e, the r-i-c-k, that's all
Did some check one-twos, and some yes yes y'alls
I'm the man of the hour, sweet to be sour
So what you sayin' e? - I got 'soul power'
So dig it, as I kick it, keep your eyes open
'Cause a brother like me, is always scopin
In fact, you should pack, because I cut no slack
It's like that this is the big payback

(Parrish Smith:)
If rappin was a tribe I'd be the chief commanche
Had fat link, chunky rings, nuttin' fancy
So saddle up mc's, and off we go
It's not a rodeo, but I carry a lasso
'Cause I'm back from vacation, 'cause suckers kept slippin'
Rappin' off-beat, plus your tunes wasn't hittin
They wanna claim a style on the m-i-c
But I can rotate the state, cold rippin shows with e
'Cause whether maxin' or relaxin', waxin' or taxin'
Never step to a show without packin
My partners, Mr. Smith and Mr. Wessun
So nothin' moves funny, at the rappin' session
I'm strictly biz and knuckles, no time for laugh or chuckles
I drop clear lyrics, while your bass sound muffled
You sniff blow? Hell no, and still flow and say go
More or less do a show - nah
The only high I get, is when my fans yell hoe
So get the bo-zack, because we're back to hack
Here to let you know that it's the big payback

(Parrish Smith:)
Yeah that's right man, big payback in eighty-nine, yaknahmsayin'?
Epmd's in effect on the unfinished business tip
And tony, snappin' necks