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Artist: Sermon, Erick f/ Keith Murray, Redman
Album:  Double or Nothing
Song:   Open Fire
Typed by:

Whoop Whoop(8x)

Funky dilemmas, destroy mc's by process of elimanation
Ghetto linger breaks your inner, mind body 
Got me sold like Hurachis, funk tracks up the ass 
make peace wit knock-knees, the funk dwella in your cella
no one's betta, pull more Playboy bitches than Hugh Heffner
I phase you wit my nasal style I'm able
To rock two turntables for oh say like sweet sable
Now who's on the deal I'll make you feel the real
I kill at will wit nine shots in your window sill 
Or mill, to feel a gust of wind, I must've been worn
Wit ten of my dusted friends I, I get up in you like Keith Murray
Make your whole crew shit stew beef curry in a hurry
Make competition leave early smokin the lala
Blazay Blah come through your block and open fire

(Redman's in the area
Keith Murray's in the area
Erick Sermon's in the area)

[Erick Sermon]
You best believe
Is this mic on word up
I swarm like helicopters, after robbers, at fiends gettin dollars
The lyrical Street Fighter call me Sagat
Blazin hot like the bullet from somebody gettin shot
Where ther's a drum there's a beat
And where there's guns there's the streets
This option allows me to make my opponents wit degrees
From here to overseas, clowns in my mix and don't know the flava
Its the same reason why I threw away my Skypager
Magnificent, givin rappers death certificates
Wit fly intricate flows by the lows
Y'all come out the hype description of this
One time Billboard winner, six time Gold record list
No one invited me so I crashed and brung the vibe
And broke it out like a rash, who?
So who do I be? The E, the D-O-U-B the L, to the E
Get your blunt leafs and fire it up
Get your ZigZags and fire it up Whhhoooo!
MC's you betta stand clear, Def Squad is a world premier

[Keith Murray]
Word is bond I collect your con getcha gone like a moron
I break your little itty bitty styles down to ions
My rap style has many many mixtures of murderous poetry
And deadly lectures and fixtures, matter fact my rap
Sounds be on sickly timin, meaning your brain can't be defined
In the words I be using when I be rhymin
Now you can change your whole word back and forth
And bring the roughest rapper and I bet you blood he'd cough
My rap style is like my lifestyle, rougher than turbulence
Ever since I commenced to subject you to my bullshit
I compress your chest and perform open-heart surgery
And God forbid I outrageous people see the L.O.D.
I love beatin you in the head with this
Make you wanna run off and go get a psycho-therapist-analist
Way nicer than the force intended
The nicest rapper that ever came out since you could remember
Def Squad