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