Chill Lyrics

from Business Never Personal

"Chill" is track #2 on the album Business Never Personal. It was written by Ross Smith.
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"Chill" is track #2 on the album Business Never Personal. It was written by Ross Smith.
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Chill, chill, chill, chill
Chill, chill, chill, chill
Chill, chill, chill, chill
Chill, chill, chill, chill

Chill, chill, chill, chill
Chill, chill, chill, chill
Chill, chill, chill, chill
Chill, chill, chill, chill, yeah

Equipped with the rap microchip
Program, aptitude, one mo' return, aww
(Shit)
My face in the magazines, showin' my eyes green
(Chill)
Chill, freshly dipped when I'm seen

Yo, dig, it's the new fig for the E-Double
I pack a Mac-10 just in case of trouble
Hot like a handle on a pot, I'm steamin'
Fame and more glory than Morgan Freeman

I'm the original, my style's deformed
So it can sound crazy ill when I perform
Yeah, check one two mic supreme
EPMD, the rap American Dream Team

The E-Double's definitely no joke
You can't see me, even with a microscope
I'm massive dope, funky, who's deffer
Yo, when I express myself like Salt 'N Pepa

Erick Sermon and Parrish Smith
The sickest, the wickest, crazy mad psycho, the slickest
Hardcore rhymin', yeah, that's the ticket
Buckwhylin', rough enough for Long Island

Chill, chill, chill, chill
Chill, chill, chill, chill, yeah
Rough enough to break New York
From Long Island

Chill, chill, chill, chill
Chill, chill, chill, chill, yeah
Rough enough to break New York
From Long Island

Chill, chill, chill, chill
Chill, chill, chill, chill, yeah
Rough enough to break New York
From Long Island

Chill, chill, chill, chill
Chill, chill, chill, chill, yeah
Rough enough to break New York
From Long Island

Back up, boy, move easy with the hand motion
Don't even blink kid, or I'ma start smokin'
The glock hammer's cocked with the speed shot
Twelve shots, the bust target is the brown fox

So call me smooth talk, rhyme jaywalk with the slang talk
B-boy fanatic, straight from New York
The foundation, landmark of the rap scene
EPMD in effect, I'm clockin' mad green

Like Kermit the Frog, sloppy like Boss Hog
Girl was runnin' wild, ate her like a corndog
Four mics are ready to flow in slow mo'
Know the rap game just like Bo knows hoes
(Yeah)

Hard, you get scarred, messin' with the Hit Squad
Slide easy or catch a bull shucks charge
No time to ill, stay mental or puff a pill
Get the Macadamians, and oh yeah kid, chill

Chill, chill, chill, chill
Chill, chill, chill, chill, yeah
Rough enough to break New York
From Long Island

Chill, chill, chill, chill
Chill, chill, chill, chill, yeah
Rough enough to break New York
From Long Island

Chill, chill, chill, chill
Chill, chill, chill, chill, yeah
Rough enough to break New York
From Long Island

Chill, chill, chill, chill
Chill, chill, chill, chill, yeah
Rough enough to break New York
From Long Island

Chill, chill, chill, chill
Chill, chill, chill, chill
Chill, chill, chill, chill
...

Songwriters
ROSS SMITH

Published by
Lyrics © Royalty Network, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC

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