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Method Man
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THE Turn (feat.RAEKWON)
Lyricist:William Frederi Davidson, Michael Philip Le Davies, John Goodison, Tony Hiller, Clifford Smith, Corey Todd Woods
(Everywhere I turn, I see, your face) Yeah, ah, yeah, yo, yo, yeah Yeah, motivate, motivate, from the gate, y'all Yeah, aiyo, aiyo, aiyo
And we the Gods, still tear the whole hood apart Darts that'll splatter through faces, taste niggaz hearts I'm intellectual, plus professional and Walbaums to vegetables Shit is right here, like buyin' fly gear
Dare any white man or fan nigga, ran through niggaz Blew shotties in niggaz lobbies, the grand RZA We left, the radio broke, I yoke my vocals, hittin' green smoke Allah Math', show me when the needle broke
Numb the whole crowd up, stupid ass Loud fouled up Never knew what they had, now they proud of us Picture my vision, precision, lines jumpin' out of commission Divine got me, nigga, the boss, he pop me
Rae, we gotta generate Lord, I feel the Ditech, the mildew Buy jets and vehicles, steal a little Wrap up the whole rap government
Go head, y'all floss wit it, walk wit, I slap your boss wit it Navy blue, New York fitted, I'm cold frost bitted Two puffs and off wit it, you smell the herb 'Fore I lit the spots it's forfeit it
Blocks is hot, feel the shot from fourth, fifth it With no regard for your boulevard, just the shit bag and bullet scar It's the Riddler, riddle me this, riddle me that Who the pretender? And who the door man that let them enter?
The Wu-Tang, 36 Cham', what you smokin'? Got you in the game chokin', like Van Gundy coachin' Find more lyrics at ※ Mojim.com Your street team, bunch of weaklings Don't ever let me catch your reachin'
Respect when a grown man is speakin' Shh, keep on sleepin' and just like TLC, I keep on creepin' The five percent of y'all, keep on teachin' The heat seakin', missile official, that got issues Like Funk Doc got snot tissue, it's hott Nikkels
Everywhere I turn, I see, your face, but you're never there
Shh, shit ain't over Okay, now, same shit, different day, grindin', gettin' paid Self at it, automatic, guns that spit and spray Gotta have it, ass grab it, time to slip and weight Godbody, house your party, watch the kid n' play
Y'all gon' make me go postal, up in this muthafucka house Full of bloodsuckers and hoes that love hustlers Roll that izza, pour me another kizza Bigga, to my nigga, so drunk they can't get up
Shotguns through nose, hot ones through foes Let the herb spots run till the cops come, suppose I was just another stick in the mud, on a Saturday Thinkin', how I'ma get the fifth in the club
See my crew thick, everyday I fights to prove it We comes undisputed, with batteries included Honey's 'bee' like meth, I be like what? They want some free CD's, I'm like, 'See these nuts'
If y'all muthafuckas gettin' high tonight, say all right, haha If y'all muthafuckas gettin' drunk tonight, say all right, haha It be Tical, okay, haha, yeah, yeah, okay It be Tical, okay, haha, yeah
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