Lyrics P.L.O. Style - Method Man, Carlton Fisk

P.L.O. Style

P.L.O.
style, Buddha monks with the Owls
P.L.O.
style, Buddha monks with the Owls
P.L.O.
style, Buddha monks with the Owls
P.L.O.
style
Here comes the ruckus, the motherfucking ruckus
Thousands of cut-throats and crumb-snatching fuckers
Straight from the brain, I’ll be giving you the pain, anger
Coming from the 36th Chamber, bang!
Tical, hitting with the Buddha-Fist style
Shotgun slamming in your chestpiece, plow!
Frame is blown all over the terrain
Like a man without no arms you can’t hang
Time for a change of the guard
You’ve been arrested for lyric fraud now you barred
For real, check it, I pull strings like B.B. King on guitar
I’m the true Fist of the North Star!
Ooooooooh!
What a tangled web we weave
When first we practice to deceive
Guns be clicking, running with my clan we be sticking
Whatever, my street family stays together
Represent what I invent, Killa Hill resident
Rest in peace to my nigga Two Cent
The street life is the only life I know
I live by the code, style — it’s mad — P.L.O
Iranian thoughts and cover like an Arabian
Grab the nigga on the spot and put a nine to his cranium
I can’t get no satisfaction, niggas won’t be lasting
Long, unless they get protection for real
Strong, coming with my Clan so what’s happening
Commercial rap, hate it with a passion
The M-E-T-H-O-D got me drinking
O.E.
all night in a M.P.V
Just maxing, looking for hoes, you know relaxing
Bitches know the hour, it be time for some action
P.L.O., peace to that nigga Berriano
What up, Fisk?
Take him to the bridge, Verrazano
P.L.O.
style, Buddha monks with the Owls
P.L.O.
style, Buddha monks with the Owls
P.L.O.
style, Buddha monks with the Owls
P.L.O.
style