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featuring Soup 

[Erick Sermon] 
Oh.. yeahhuhh! 
Def Squad 

Chorus: Erick Sermon 

It's all in the mind.. (Pump pump  lickin shots!) *7X* 
(Pump pump  lickin shots) 

[Erick Sermon] 
Aiyyo it's the master rap maniac  comin fat like dat 
That's my habitat  with the funk track 
From the Boondocks  when I rocks my styles out the docks 
Who who? I hear someone knockin at my door 
It must be Soup  a black human bein 
I think it's about time for y'all to see him 

[Soup] 
Sometimes I get blindsided with the flow, I never know 
They yell HOE, assumin the motions of a cool flow 
Notions of a cool, it's the S, Ohhhhhh 
Never come test, noooooooo, cause even the best'll have to 
go out with the rest, Nestea and a bag of sess for me 
Ackninckulous, I kill the weeds in my chest 

[Erick Sermon] 
Back on the rebound, it's the magnificents funkdullah 
Old schooler, more sole/soul than Dr. Scholl-ah 
Freakin wicked so it sticks in your dome 
On the chrome microphone so I take it home 
Don't neglect, just respect, the mic check 
Don't forget, I still snap necks and come correct 
I leave the microphone burnin (burnin) 
Green Eyed Bandit, my ? full name is Erick Sermon 

[Soup] 
Erick Sermon, sermon with the preaching 
I'm fuckin up people's heads without speaking, without speaking 
Clearly, loudly, niggaz crowd around the speaker 
to hear me freak the, note like Tamika 
But sweeter, sixty phoneta, sneaker if you 
peep the, jams and you reap the fields 
with the roots and uh, my name is Soup, and uh 
I flow like orange juice or Tropicana, and uh 

Chorus 

[Erick Sermon] 
Breaker breaker, shh, I hear some static 
Stop and get my automatic, the rusty one from the attic 
And shoot, or be killed, and if I ill I might cause 
a bloodspill so I have to chill and get 
totally disgusting on the microphone 
Whyyyyyyyyy, because it's onnnnn (it's on, IT'S ON) 
It's on (IT'S ON, IT'S ON, IT'S ON, IT'S ON!!) 

[Soup] 
The industry is a trick, and everyone is on the dick 
A cheap trick, just like ? like ? 
I peep it, everyone, wants me to sound like 
a ?, I'm dyin, before I get up from behind 
It's crushin up the rush of the rhyme in my mind 
Drink and trust - blind, think and trust - my, nine 
Because, nine lives nine triggers 
Fine rhymes equal the nine figures 
Yeah the cold cash, I hold a bold stash 
Yeah pockets next to my nineteen year old ass 
Yeah, God bless the child with his own 
God bless the roots and outsiders who zone 
Motherfuckers caps, get bucked in the dome 
Lick a shot, in his mad packed crazy chrome 

Chorus (+ Soup shouting over) 

[Soup] 
Like that, but it's all words 
Words can kill more pens, than guns, and friends 
and foes, God knows, I chose the pros 
that rose, still froze-n, chose-n, YOU 
S-O-U and the P, E, R-I-C-K 
Erick Sermon, kickin a rhyme this way 
Yeah! It's all in, your mind 
It's all in, my mind 
It's all in, my mind..

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