|
Method Man - Everything lyrics
(feat. Inspectah Deck, Streetlife) [Intro: Method Man] Yeah... yeah... Allah Math... Yeah... yo... yo... [Method Man] Y'all ain't never stopping the kid, why y'all knocking the king? Would ya like a shot of liquor or like a shot to the rib? Plus you stay on top of they grills, stay on top of they biz Thinking niggaz plotting on hairs, think they not when they is This is Staten Island gully, you dig? It's getting ugly And I ain't found a court that can judge me, the block love me Like nines to the side of the skully, popping they top I'd rather pop bubbly, one for B.I.G. and one for Pac Nigga, trust me, I'm hot as they get, like Al Green Getting hit by a pot of them grits, yo, nahmeen? Y'all don't really want no parts of this, soon as a nigga Start shining, niggaz start some shit, my guard lit Like a boss, head nigga in charge, get in these drawers Fitted, nine inches bigger than yours This Meth dude got that food, and he serving it raw Told you before, I bring the pain, and now I'm hurting them, pa Hurting them, pa... [Chorus 2X: Streetlife] Up from the 36, back on that bullshit Okay, I'm reloaded, strapped with a full clip Staten Island's the borough, Park Hill, we still click Wu-Tang, Wu-Tang, that's the Clan, we run shit [Inspectah Deck] Aiyo, you fucking with some capital G's, Allah Math Streetlife, Meth Man, plus the Masta and me Soldier I, make it happen, indeed, my sick gift Had the highest paid hoe, get it cracking for free Worldwide, still trapped in the P's, Pioneers Like the twenty inch woofers, that's in back of the V Leave ya brain, like you spazzing on E. It don't matter who you happen to be, nothing swagger like he Keep a dirty cop close, never talk with no feds Tear the roof off the mother, right along with ya head And I ain't talk unless she talking bout bread You would swear that I'm rocking New Balance, how I'm walking the ledge Son, I'm just a little off of the edge, as I stalk The mean streets, for paused types, callers are read Killa Hill where the warriors bred, I'm a Resident Patient, it's gonna take more than the meds [Chorus 2X] [Streetlife] Special invited guest, I came to put the rumors to rest Rip the rest of the slugs through your chest Put the chest to the back of your vest Trap your packet, take the money and jet Niggaz posted, but you posing no threat Punk, you pussy like the opposite sex Front, see how many shots you will get I'm not asking, I'm demanding respect I'm just a man to respect Watch your step, son, your funeral's next Streetlife is the man in the flesh, I got one hand on your neck The other hand is attached to the tech Your next move could mean life or death Make move, take baby steps Hold that thought, nigga, save your breath We hold courts, in the streets, we rep For Cash Rule, and we came to collect, cock sucker. [Chorus] |
|
||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| Last added lyrics |
|---|
 Iron Flag by Wu-Tang Clan |
 Back to Black by Amy Winehouse |
 Waiting for the Punchline by Extreme |
 Ray Ray by Raphael Saadiq |
 Wanna Go Back by Eddie Money |
