| Intro: method man
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| Spark that shit up And lets fly
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| Oh my people
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| Heyyy ohhhh
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| Ahhhh hooooo
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| Eiiii heyyy
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| Verse one: sticky fingaz
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| Im a hoodlum
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| A dick in the dirt is what Im holding
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| Sporting mad polo but only if its stolen
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| I got no morals my mind is in the gutter
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| Kid Ill open up your face with my orange box cutter
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| Soak you when you least expect it Before I met russel I only had a jail record
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| Plus nothing ever hurt me when I was at home
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| These evil streets got a mind of their own
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| My pops left me for dead with just the clothes on my back
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| I grew up selling crack
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| And learning to drive a car jack
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| I got street smarts and I use intuition
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| I can spot an undercover with my x-ray vision
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| And if anybody test me out there
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| They gonna make me kill them and throw away my carear
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| Im my mothers first born, her last bad seed
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| Verse two: fredro star a.k.a. never
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| Its all about the next caper
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| The cocaine, props and acres
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| For the sake ah Snatchin the green paper
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| Me and my crew roll in the zone of the twilight
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| The news highlight
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| When the next shit dont go right
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| Its so tight its blazing
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| A nigga squeezed hayz in Got em geezing for a runner
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| Then the plot thickens
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| On point like rod strickland
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| Clocks ticking
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| Makes the hardest niggas clicks stop ticking
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| Hitting they stash
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| And murdering like and expert
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| Cover ya tracks
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| And conceal that dirty shit
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| Chorus: method man
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| This is for the gun slingers
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| Noise bringers
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| This is for the crack slingers
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| Bell ringers
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| This is for the bootleggers
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| And everyday beggers
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| And all my hood hustlers who know where we headin
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| Verse three: sonsee
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| Its all about the $ 50,000 cars
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| Dice games and ice chains
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| We out of the average niggas price range
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| Rings and remy mixed with henny
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| Chicks with fendi sucking disk in the infinity
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| This nigga had mad deco
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| Fucking petro the nickel metro blow
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| All you heard was the gun echo
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| On a dead nbight I get my head right
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| Running red lights no headlights
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| Pumping buddah in a black benz
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| Pulling out mac 10s
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| Its just the smell of fucking cigarettes
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| Broke niggas with assed out
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| Took 2 puffs and passed out
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| Woke him up with 21 shots of penicillin
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| Amped him up I guess thought it was hempacillin
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| Yo chill kid lamp kid, chill kid you livin
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| Aye yo jb hit me one time
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| Verse four: method man
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| Its the blaze that be johnny
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| Not many shots can do that ass raunchy
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| Lyric to the muzak we rolling
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| Watch out for the niggas that be holding
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| Raunchy fucking up your colon
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| Of course its tical
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| Verbal assault
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| We can walk these dogs through all 5 boroughs of new york
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| Some talk
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| While other individuals walk
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| In my square tryin to hide thoughts
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| Spreading lies in my ears
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| Got me questioning my peers
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| That be show and prove they dont belong here
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| I be the chef in hells kitchen
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| Pop in the clip and hit the dj if the records skipping
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| My competition gotta keep me at arms distance
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| I know myself onion head niggas dont listen
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| I shoot the what
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| Got no time for that wiz bitchin
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| Im about to blow in 5 seconds
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| The clocks ticking consider this another mission
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| Impossible as he gets hostile
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| Uncut blowing up your nostril
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| We there
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| Come on take another if you dare
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| The reason why its so raw cause its real
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| I swear by the hairs on my chin chiggy chin
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| To the day I die I represent the grimy niggas
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| The ones who cant afford tommy hillfigger
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| The down and dirty johnny fill niggas
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| Yeah |