paroles de chanson They Tell Me - EPMD feat. Keith Murray
Yeah
Something
has
to
be
said
Uh
Somebody
tell
me
something
Whats
up?
That
it′s
on
right
now
and
we
about
to
let
off
And
that
the
industry
is
sleepin
and
HipHop
is
soft
EPMD
is
the
boss
like
Rick
Ross
We
don't
knock
or
ring
or
else
we
kick
down
the
door
with
force
Bust
you
down,
leave
a
sign
on
you
that
say
you
lost
Game
over,
no
more
quaters,
plus
the
machine
is
broke
Money
don′t
really
remember
nothing,
all
he
has
seen
is
smoke
No
witness,
no
statement,
no
case
Incorporate
you
eat
cheese,
then
you
get
a
raise
Rubbed
out
return
to
the
earth
Six
feet
deep
in
the
dirt
With
the
snakes
and
maggots
cause
you
got
murked
Yeah,
and
they
keep
telling
me
that
You're
only
as
good
as
your
last
record
And
if
I
was
to
do
something
now
they
wouldn't
second
Hardcore
respect
it
and
that
is
enough
You
got
more
props
then
call
your
bluff
Same
thing
happend
to
Marry
and
Mariah
They
both
came
back
with
fire,
fuck
retiring
I
got
belts
around
my
waist
You
keep
holding
your
pants
up
Homeboy
male
up!
That′s
your
opinion,
cause
you′re
not
feeling
it
How
you
know
they're
hot
the
fans
not
hearing
it
The
record
pins
steering
it
in
one
direction
You,
there
is
some
music
in
the
real
niggas
section
That
EPMD
is
a
corporation
it′s
not
its
the
group
And
that
they
always
stack
paper
so
put
up
your
loot
Ghetto
celebs
that's
why
niggaz
salute
Orange
juice
and
grey
goose
We
dramatic
backwards
now
that
P
is
loose
Me
and
E
is
back
for
the
kill,
no
troops
That′s
why
we
spit
the
real
in
the
vocal
booth
Yeah
so
called
gangster
and
you
ain't
even
hard
So
called
boxer
and
you
ain′t
even
sport
When
them
ribber
hit
you
got
punked
in
the
yard
You
said
you
got
shot
and
you
ain't
even
scarred
But
they
belive
this
and
you
keep
betraying
them
You
are
a
bitch
and
I'm
not
the
only
one
saying
it
Now
he
from
the
BX
but
he
really
soft
And
he
from
BK
but
his
guns
don′t
go
off
He
from
cop
killer
Queens
but
he
still
getting
robbed
And
he
from
money
making
but
he
ain′t
on
his
job
Now
he
from
LA
but
he's
scared
to
bang
And
he
from
Texas
but
he
will
do
the
damn
thing
He′d
stay
in
VA
but
he
is
scared
of
the
streets
And
he's
from
Chi-a
but
he′s
sweet
as
a
peach
I
can
tell
you
'bout
the
dope
fiends
and
all
of
that
But
I
let
them
tell
it
′cause
they
sell
their
moms
crack
And
that
ain't
gangsta
that
is
wanksta
Went
to
jail
and
the
homo
shanked
ya
Don't
get
caught
between
my
city
and
the
moon
You′ll
be
screaming
at
night,
you
loose
your
life
at
me
to
doom
I
really
hung
with
BIG,
squared
off
with
Pac
Shook
hands
in
the
House
of
Blues
before
the
shit
popped
First
fought
niggaz
in
the
industry
and
kept
it
cool
You
ain′t
see
me
running
my
mouth
in
no
interviews
And
you
fools
on
them
DVD's
waving
tools
No
that
ain′t
something
that
a
gangsta
do
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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