[Featuring Street Life]

[Method Man]

Yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah yea yo

Yo yo yo yo yo yo yo

All them real live motherfuckin niggaz step up front right now

Its goin down

One love to Long Island Hempstead in my heart baby

Shaolin what?

Come on come on HA!

Dangerous ground

Tre pound seven spin around for my bredren the clouds come down

War and peace I take it to the street

Land sharp on my lawn chop the thumbs off a thief

And curse his first born, is this thing on?

Send em to the children of the corn we the people

See, niggaz through the eye of the demon

My lethal injection, destroyin evil

Hot Nikkel, private eye one pistol

Aimin at your brain tissue, do or die

Said the spider to the fly Could this one be tasty

Like momma apple pie goodness, Johnny Blaze me

On the job like Dick Tracy

Hit the cure for that ill shit like Ben Casey, M.D.

Symbolic thrill like god he shocked it

Like a finger in a light socket, too good to be forgotten

In the rotten apple

I kick dirt on the sand castle

Check the flavor all natural

(Beat your feet)

Hot Niks son

(E-mizer)

Before you get the main course

(Taste a appetizer)

Submerged in the word

Heavy headed verbal

Smack you, mentally disturb you attack you

Thirty-six chamb once again comin at you

Young gun got the body snatch you observe

Yo eyes work you can only see through the third

Eyeball baby I'm the norm on the bird

To shine on mental nourishment, you can dine on

Track yellin at me get yo arrow god

Victory is hard

Regardless to whom or what

They all get retard its a law

Runnin through a house and your block party, we wreck-tion

And Hot rock the body body, St. Bernards

Couldnt save your enterrage plat lobotamy

Leave ya mentally scarred, numb and possibly

Dumb deaf and blind is it

I keep your spine out the battery pack spark it with mine keep it

movin

Now everybody just throw your hands in the......(phone rings)

What the fuck?

Peace - who this?

[Streetlife]

Mind detect mind

A P.L.O. da startin line

Deep Space Nine

Designed for knuckleheads who bust guns and throw signs

Lets converse snatch the tap from your purse

Body-surf on the verse head first

Peeped your feet bitch straight beat you know wit the heat

And you spazzed out spittin out teeth ain't nothin please

Big boys don't destroy blunt is so pop stare on

50 men convoy, spends to wear the big toy

Rumble through the wasteland my hands on the silencer

40 caliber city slicker Staten Islander

Synchronize minds combine thoughts that motivate

don't perpetrate pass the blunt let it circulate

Street politicians on a suicide mission

Crime vision finger itchin from a scope-view position

Dangerous ground

Tre pound seven spin around for my bredren the cloud comes down

[Method Man]

Yo

Keep ya eyes open

Love potion number nine poetry in motion

Knowledge me the seventh sign

Scold it canivin

Infiltrate is most of mine

Play em nonchalantly, calmly expose the nine

Push and get shoved what the fuck gods thinkin of

Comin in the club wit that screw face, actin up

Is we men or mice, bad moon risin

We wild for the night

Kill a skitzofrenic nigga twice 'cause-a

that's what happened when frontin on this Shaol brotha

Island of Staten we in here no fear

Assault wit intent

To kill your whole regiment its real

Startin wit yo president, duckin my dart gun

Tear apart something you don't want it then don't start none

Blaze one with Jonathon, part man part fly

Handle my be -I camouflauge like G.I.

Fat like Joe, a day in the life

Your money or your life that's the life

Everybody can't afford ice in the struggle

Tryin to eat right another day another hustle hustle hustle

(Uh huh uh huh uh huh uh huh uh huh)

Dangerous ground

Tre pound seven spin around for my bredren the clouds come down

War and peace, I take it to the street

Land sharp on my lawn chop the thumbs off a thief

Motherfuck

Writer : P. CHARLES, D. HARRIS, C. SMITH
Copyright : Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group