Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Lyrical .44, artist - Method Man. Date of issue: 31.12.2002
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
Lyrical .44 |
| Selecta come!!! |
| Play this song on your fuckin radio, play this song on your fuckin radio |
| Oh no, another flow lyrica forty fo' |
| If it gets deep, jump in feet first then hold yo’nose |
| I’m a beast when you step on my toe you hear my whistle |
| Checkin 'em hoe, you see my pistol lettin it go |
| I couldn’t wait to do a song right, hardly 'gon do ya wrong |
| Time to party, Meth, Stephen Marley and Jr. Gong |
| So selecta, come with it, awww shit it Now y’all done did it, supper ready y’all come get it Now who 'gon stop me block me pop lock me knock me Jamaica posse most high Haile Selassie |
| Allah willin, another sound boy killin |
| I’m hot bitch I don’t catch cold or catch feelings |
| The truth be the ghetto youth |
| And Def Jam y’all know the Meth Man take care of his fam |
| That’s what y’all better do Examine our skin we plannin to win |
| Worldwide tell the people we be jammin again |
| Make way for Reggie Hammond |
| I, dig 'em out then tie 'em up for randsome |
| I, shoot at your feet make you start dancin |
| I’m pissin on your picnics where ya c&in |
| Doctor got the ziplock from Ziggy |
| When the zig zag roll I’ll rip your zip code |
| Got bitches fucked up off the hypno |
| I tip toe, then wait till they bend over |
| (There I go) Aiyyo money |
| I got a mo ped in Jamaica sittin on twenties |
| (Blaow!) Look out, guns in the air |
| (Blaow!) Selecta guns in the air |
| No Belvedere it’s Tiger Bone to get it crackin |
| Aiyyo dread right or wrong |
| I’m a sinner, winner of the underground swimmers |
| Eat dinner, in front of Bob Marley pin up I don’t care about your blinb bling bling |
| Over here we let them things ring |
| BLAOW!!! |
| Give it to me BLAOW!!! |
| give it to me |
| BLAOW!!! |
| Shoot it up BLAOW!!! |
| give it up |
| I don’t care about your blinb bling bling |
| Over here we let them things ring |
| BLAOW!!! |
| Give it to me BLAOW!!! |
| One time |
| BLAOW!!! |
| give it to me BLAOW!!! |
| give it up |
| I neva wonda why so much ganja reach ya And dem a wonda how so much conquer feature |
| Blunt dem so big a must fi bun it Bob and Peter |
| Teach it like a teacher preach it like a preacher |
| Put you in a fever |
| Pussy couldn’t style mi up plus no under achieve |
| Gimme di rizla gimme di cup and a couple senorita |
| Jr. Gong di veteran a trouble when mi reach ya DJ fi fi fan dem inna Grandtsand and di bleacha |
| Jumpin off on di truck, you best believe yah |
| Babylon a smell skunk and couldn’t get mi neitha |
| Well ever since a likkle ghetto yute dem get mi crippled |
| So mi know seh babylon dem a go get a weopen |
| Everytime when we hear some politician trippin |
| When a di big ting promote I’m right there wid di clip in So just smile now yuh flip yuh likkle flippin lippin |
| Got a big forty five it’s trigga finga lickin |
| Then mi buck up yuh face so far yuh don’t know what’s happenin |
| Dem wonderin how yuh get so slim it’s like yuh fat and go gym |
| Get mi girl inna mi cabin and mi cabin stabbin |
| It is slappin jappin dappin it is non stoppin |
| Hey! |
| No pork caan cook inna mi kitchen |
| If a gal try dat she’s a dead pigeon |
| Well woman a tear off mi pants stitchen |
| Natty dreadlocks inna di benz and have recline switchin |
| If a bwoy nuh like dat him may end up missin |
| Rastafari dun tell yuh don’t listen |
| Play this song on your fuckin radio, play this song on your fuckin radio |