| I wanna deal, with a bigger asshole
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| The streets, it’s 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 ain’t no business
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| (No other game is run so disorganized
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| Look around you, every hood that’s taking care of business
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| Is together, dig it, tight?)
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| I can’t spend my life running away
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| For what it’s worth, how much dirt can I get done in a day?
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| I got, clip in the AK (a blunt in the tray)
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| I’m a beast (Fuck the police) N.W.A.
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| Ya’ll play this game that the huster’s play
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| And if you dress in the metrosexual way, then muthafucka, you gay
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| Ya’ll can save this drama for Kay Slay, like who’s fucking my chick
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| Or writing books about sucking my dick
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| Now I don’t 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 don’t let her cook up my food
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| It’s 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, ya’ll can guzzle a sip, ain’t nothing change
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| My niggas is off the chain, and we don’t muzzle the pit, a-ha
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| «Can I get a suuuuuuuu?»
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| «Aiyo, this bounce right here for all my Wu-Tang muthafuckas in the house,
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| tonight»
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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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| Ya’ll 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, don’t mean I’m 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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| That’s why my Cadillac bare more arms than caterpillers, let’s get it
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| «Can I get a suuuuuuuu?»
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| «Aiyo, this bounce right here for all my Wu-Tang muthafuckas in the house,
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| tonight» |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Father's Day , by - Method Man. Song from the album Blackout! 2, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп