Album: Tical 2000: Judgement Day Year: 1998 Track: 4 Track Produced By: True Master Samples: None
Lyrics: [Method Man] Yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah yea yo Yo yo yo yo yo yo yo All them real live motherfuckin niggaz step up front right now It's goin down One love to Long Island Hempstead in my heart baby Shaolin what? Come on, come on, HA!
Dangerous ground Tre pound seven spin around for my bredren the clouds come down War and peace, I take it to the street Land sharp on my lawn chop the thumbs off a thief And curse his first born, is this thing on? Send 'em to the children of the corn we the people See, niggaz through the eye of the demon My lethal injection, destroyin evil Hot Nikkel, private eye one pistol Aimin at your brain tissue, do or die Said the spider to the fly "Could this one be tasty" Like momma apple pie goodness, Johnny Blaze me On the job like Dick Tracy Hit the cure for that ill shit like Ben Casey, M.D. Symbolic thrill like god he shocked it Like a finger in a light socket, too good to be forgotten In the rotten apple I kick dirt on the sand castle Check the flavor all natural
(Beat your feet) Hot Niks son (E-mizer) Before you get the main course (Taste a appetizer)
Submerged in the word Heavy headed verbal Smack you, mentally disturb you attack you Thirty-six chamb once again comin at you Young gun got the body snatch you observe Yo wise words you can only see through the third Eyeball baby I'm the norm on the bird To shine on mental nourishment, you can dine on Track yellin at me get yo arrow god Victory is hard Regardless to whom or what They all get retard it's a law Runnin through a house and your block party, we wreck-tion And Hot rock the body body, St. Bernards Couldn't save your enterrage plat lobotamy Leave ya mentally scarred, numb and possibly Dumb deaf and blind is it I keep your spine out the battery pack spark it with mine keep it movin
Now everybody just throw your hands in the......[phone rings] What the fuck? Peace - who this?
[Streetlife] Mind detect mind A P.L.O. da startin line Deep Space Nine Designed for knuckleheads who bust guns and throw signs Let's converse snatch the tap from your purse Body-surf on the verse head first Peeped your feet bitch straight beat you know wit the heat And you spazzed out spittin out teeth ain't nothin please Big boys don't destroy blunt is so pop stare on 50 men convoy, spends to wear the big toy Rumble through the wasteland my hands on the silencer 40 caliber city slicker Staten Islander Synchronize minds combine thoughts that motivate Dont' perpetrate pass the blunt let it circulate Street politicians on a suicide mission Crime vision finger itchin from a scope-view position Dangerous ground Tre' pound seven spin around for my bredren the cloud comes down
[Method Man] Yo Keep ya eyes open Love potion number nine poetry in motion Knowledge me the seventh sign Scold it canivin Infiltrate is most of mine Play 'em nonchalantly, calmly expose the nine Push and get shoved what the fuck gods thinkin of Comin in the club wit that screw face, actin up Is we men or mice, bad moon risin We wild for the night Kill a skitzofrenic nigga twice cuz-a That's what happened when frontin on this Shaol brotha Island of Staten we in here no fear Assault wit intent To kill your whole regiment it's real Startin wit yo president, duckin my dart gun Tear apart something you don't want it then don't start none Blaze one with Jonathon, part man part fly Handle my B-I camouflauge like G.I. Fat like Joe, a day in the life Your money or your life that's the life Everybody can't afford ice in the struggle Tryin to eat right another day another hustle hustle hustle (Uh huh uh huh uh huh uh huh uh huh) Dangerous ground Tre' pound seven spin around for my bredren the clouds come down War and peace, I take it to the street Land sharp on my lawn chop the thumbs off a thief Motherfuck
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