Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song The Glide, artist - Method Man. Album song 4:21...The Day After, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 31.12.2005
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: The Island Def Jam
Song language: English
The Glide |
From out the air space, I’m rockin' leather pants in the tenth grade |
My pen blaze, now we in the wind gate, killin' haze |
Put this shit back in order, do it like the crack days |
Stack up, you little niggas back up, your raps suck |
I demolish a maggot, faggot lines, nigga, you’se a savage |
But don’t never compare me to your wack times |
I’ll smash your hood up, yeah, anybody you call |
I straight mash out, for cash nigga, put up |
The Embassy’s calling, Wu-Tang, Wu-Tang |
Enemies is falling, y’all niggas ain’t good enough |
Now acknowledge the strength, we stand like buildings |
In the city, raise that rent up, y’all niggas gonna give me, baby |
Yeah, what, fucker, we stomp niggas out like XUV’s |
Then fuck ya girl in the but-ut |
Nine rap playboys, see me in the Playboy Mansion |
With the playboys on, I play rid-ough |
Nigga, we glide when we ride, don’t choke when we smoke |
Disrespect fam, yo ass gon' get smoked |
We got real money, seven figure deal money |
I’m in the Samuel Jackson, Time to Kill money |
Yeah, we got them anthems, we handsome and raw |
All day, cops harass, but we laugh at the law |
And a fiend got my stash, I blast through your door |
I caught her with the four, his dame was frozen |
She loves sniffing coke til her veins is bulging |
You punk motherfucker, your ribs is frail |
I’ve been eating calamari, getting big in jail |
Nigga, we glide when we ride, don’t choke when we smoke |
I got that sidedish super today, eye candy |
With the sweetest love, one bite, your tooth’ll decay |
I’m moving units like I’m moving the yae, and like they say |
In this business, you either in it, bitch, or you in the way |
Sky’s the limit, I ain’t come here to play, or come to shit where I lay |
Who in that six blunt, clipping his tray |
Sippin' some Ice Water, dipping with Rae |
Tipping these tricks, dripping for pay |
And knowing half them bitches is gay |
T.M.I. |
blowing tree in sky, we on the job |
So be abvised, that wack niggas, needing apply |
S.I., represent til we die, this track is pitching to fry |
Enter the Dragon, I be spitting that fire |
Keep ya balls off, so calling you dogs off |
Cuz word to these jeans, hanging off of my ass, I never fall off |
The sensei, with this pen I slay |
Pick up a queen in Miami, then get M.I.A., John Blaze, bitch |