[intro]
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I wanna deal with a bigger asshole
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The streets, its coming down hard
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We got to get our shit together
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We always had music, eating off the game
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Like you was never gon run dry, that aint no business
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No other game is run so disorganized
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Look around you, every hood thats taking care of business
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Is together, dig it, tight
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[Verse 1: Method Man]
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I cant spend my life running away
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For what its worth, how much dirt can I get done in a day
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I got a clip in the AK, a blunt in the tray
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Im a beast, fuck the police, N.W.A
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Yall play this game that the husters play
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And if you dress in the metrosexual way, then muthafucka, you gay
~#**************#~
Yall can save this drama for Kay Slay, like whos fucking my chick
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Or writing books about sucking my dick
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Now I dont give a fuck what they say, cuz once I put on my cool
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They see my life and wanna put on my shoes
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Top of the world, ma, look at your dude
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I dig a chick with an attitude, but I dont let her cook up my food
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Its like these young niggas hugging the strip
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Who got the power to move bricks and buildings never loving the bitch
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Stripping with game, yall can guzzle a sip, aint nothing change
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My niggas is off the chain, and we dont muzzle the pit, a-ha
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[Verse 2: Redman]
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Soon as I, pick up my pen, I begin my flow
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I close my eyes then write rhymes in a Blackout mode
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My uzi, weigh over a ton, CD plays over
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I do my crime with baking soda, with no odor
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Pull out like boat motor streams, crack your shoulder wing
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Def Squad decoder ring, psychopath bordering
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My dogs shitting on your lawn, while you watering
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Pay the fine, audit him and shit on your lawn again
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D.O.C. get it, C.O.D., my hood
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P.O.P., nigga, N.J. deep, baby
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Jersey state of mind, Method Man, lock em in
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Yall niggas give a fuck, punk, we the opposite, yup
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I hear you gossipping, cuz we on
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Just because I rock, dont mean Im made of stone
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My bones is sturdy, I wake up to get it early
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When I bully the streets, my Co-D is Keith Murray
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In a hurry, back down, the boy roll with us
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This how it sound when them boys is transmitted
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Bricks to Staten Island, where babies turn into killers
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Thats why my Cadillac bare more arms than caterpillers, lets get it
