E.P.M.D. Lyrics Nas ft. Hit-Boy | 2021 Song

E.P.M.D. Song Lyrics

Description:- E.P.M.D. Lyrics Nas ft. Hit-Boy are Provided in this article. This is a new song which is sang by famous Singer ​Nas. This song is from Judas And The Black Messiah: The Inspired Album album. This Song will release on 12 February 2021.

If you are searching E.P.M.D. Lyrics then you are on the right post. So without wasting time lets jump on to E.P.M.D. Song lyrics.

E.P.M.D. Lyrics Nas
E.P.M.D. Lyrics Nas

Song:– E.P.M.D.

Singer:– Nas

Featuring:– Hit-Boy

Album:– Judas And The Black Messiah: The Inspired Album

Producer:– Corbett, D’Mile

Written:– Hit-Boy & Nas

Label:– Mass Appeal

E.P.M.D. Lyrics Nas

[Intro]
Hit-Boy

[Chorus]
EPMD, we back in business
I visualize what it is, not what it isn’t
We at the mafia table next to the kitchen
Eatin’ Michelin Star, countin’ a million

[Verse 1]
Look, hood theories
Arnold Rothstein rigged the World Series
Gotti ran every union in the city
N-A-S do it B-I-G like Biggie, leadin’ like Huey Newton did
Nigga, that’s how official the revolution is
Feds holdin’ cameras up and they zoomin’ in
Don’t be surprised when niggas show you they true intent
Ruthless, they’ll tie up your wife and kid
While you talkin’ on Clubhouse, the guns out
This ain’t a audio chat, boy, this audio crack
Social media platforms they rattin’ on
Facebook, Google, Apple, Microsoft, Amazon
Some say it’s Babylon, took the property over since Hampton gone
Who said we couldn’t get cash as long last this long?
Platinum cars with our ratchets on
Laid back, oxblood seats with the hazards on

[Chorus]
EPMD, we back in business
I visualize what it is, not what it isn’t
We at the mafia table next to the kitchen
Eatin’ Michelin Star, countin’ a million (Oh!)

[Verse 2]
Murcielago mob flow, ’20 Chevy Tahoe
Then I’m sittin’ low, I am not hidin’ though
Condos in different time zones (Time zones)
Way before y’all was double cuppin’ the styrofoam
Come on dun, had to lay it down in layman’s terms (Yeah)
Want me to turn up a notch? Just say the word (Yeah)
Hit told me to chill, just lay the verse
You know my thoughts get crazy, think about shit from the ’80s
Buckin’ like Tom Brady, ballin’ like Kyrie and KD
Will had the medallion, emblem of a Mercedes
Way before Mike Amiris, when all the Nikes with pennies
Killin’ niggas for sneakers, had to skate through the envy
Supreme sold for a few billi’ (Few billi’)
If I sell my masters, I need a trilli’ (Need a trilli’)
It was go get it, now it’s gimme (Run it)
And we ain’t relyin’ on no stimmies

[Chorus]
EPMD, we back in business
I visualize what it is, not what it isn’t
We at the mafia table next to the kitchen
Eatin’ Michelin Star, countin’ a million

[Outro]
Mob shit (Mob shit, mob shit)
Legitimate (Legitimate, legitimate)
You couldn’t even calculate this shit
Yeah (Yeah, yeah)
Insurmountable shit
Yeah (Yeah, yeah)
Uh (Uh) it’s too serious (It’s too serious)

Video Of E.P.M.D. Song

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