Lyrics Actin' Up - EPMD feat. Vic. D & Tre
[**feat.
Tre,
Vic
D]
[Chorus]
When
one-two
starts
actin
up
Homey
duck,
homey
duck,
homey
duck,
homey
duck
BLAOW!
Somebody
shoulda
told
that
dude
BLAOW!
Somebody
shoulda
told
that
dude
[Verse
One:
Vic
D]
"One,
two,
three,
four,
five"
Oh-six
through
oh-eight,
this
is
oh-nine
live
And
for
the
new
year
I
pack
a
chrome
fo′-five
And
keep
it
straight
raw
like
Shady
fo'-five
It′s
I,
youngest
in
charge,
a.k.a.
so
fly
Act
up,
I'm
your
neck
like
a
fuckin
bowtie
Back
up,
show
respect
to
the
newest
multi-
-Million
sold,
and
that's
only
in
the
N.Y.
- OH!
Get
low
when
that
kickback
blow
I
put
a
X
on
you
squares,
call
it
tic-tac-toe
{*click
clack
BLOW*}
Put
a
lil′
tag
on
his
toe
I
call
it
yeast
infection
faggot
how
I
get
that
dough
So
who
want
beef,
and
I′ma
shoot
it
'til
my
shooter
come
through
Hop
out
the
Cougar
put
a
hole
in
your
medullah
It′s
mo'
back
at
it
I′m
stoned
like
crack
addicts
Hocus
pocus
sayonara
I'm
gone
- black
magic
[Chorus]
[Verse
Two:
Erick
Sermon]
+ (Parrish
Smith)
That
EPMD
we
a
hip-hop
phenom′
This
style
I
birthed
it,
I
am
the
mom
The
illest
(Slow
Flow)
and
the
one-two
(Without
D.M.C.
I'm
who
they
Run
to)
Who
they
come
to,
to
get
their
swag
(I've
been
that
little
boy
with
the
duffel
bag)
Ain′t
anything
changed,
keep
cash
bags
with
me
(I′m
a
threat,
so
I
keep
trash
bags
with
me)
Okay!
Dem
lay,
and
if
dey
dumpin
Double
pumpin
shotgun
action,
who's
askin?
YOUUUUUUUUUUUU~!
(Can′t
be
for
real)
(You
eatin,
but
you
ain't
finish
your
meal)
Uhh,
I′m
the
blueprint
for
those
who
can't
lose
(I
wrote
them
checks
so
I
paid
them
dues)
Yeah
Sermon,
who
walked
in
my
shoes?
You
better
be
Bigfoot
(if
not
stay
put)
[Chorus]
[Verse
Three:
Tre]
So
I′m
the
future
of
this
music,
bet
your
life
on
that
Since
construction
paper
and
Crayolas
I've
been
writin
raps
So
don't
confuse
me
with
these
bamas
that,
ain′t
got
no
talent
And
just
all
of
a
sudden
up
and
decide
to
rap
Ain′t
no
disguisin
that
bullshit,
they
ride
to
that
bullshit
Who
bought
'em
that
bullshit?
Your
mom
and
them?
She
probably
mad,
′bout
to
whup
your
ass
for
not
again
But
don't
feel
bad,
you
just
tryin
to
win
Talkin
′bout
designers
and
your
diamonds
what
you
drivin
in
And
you
ain't
even
behind
the
wheel,
go
to
the
passenger
side
of
it
Tell
me
- why
is
that
niggaz
do
that?
That
nigga
ain′t
do
that
He
lyin,
he
ain't
never
lived
through
that
Even
people
that
know
you
hear
you
and
be
like
"Who
dat?"
That
nigga
ain't
do
that
(uh-uh,
I
don′t
believe
him)
I
been
knew
that,
been
seen
through
that
Hear
you
yappin
′bout
some
weight
you
never
sold
People
you
ain't
never
shoot
at
Take
it
down,
let′s
see
whatever
fairy
tales
you
bring
back
(You
do
got
a
good
imagination
though,
I
can
tell
you
that)
This
force
is
all
boss,
to
fakers
of
all
fakers
Just
face
it,
you
all
talk
and
it's
PHONY
BABY
[Chorus]
1 Puttin' Work In
2 What You Talkin'
3 What You Talkin
4 Roc-Da-Spot
5 Blow
6 Yo
7 Listen Up
8 Bac Stabbers
9 Never Defeat 'Em
10 Jane
11 They Tell Me
12 Actin' Up
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