Текст песни Method Man f RZA, Inspector Deck, Street - Tical, слова песни Method Man f RZA, Inspector Deck, Street

Текст песни Method Man f RZA, Inspector Deck, Street - Tical

Method Man f RZA, Inspector Deck, Street - Tical слова песни

Intro: RZA (singing by Blue Raspberry)*bees buzzing**man screaming in torture*This is... (Mr. Sandman bring me a good dream)Serious, the craziest... d-da, (Mr. Sandman bring me a good dream) day-daDanger, dangerous... styleVerse One: RZALyrical shots from the glockbust bullet holes on the chops, I want the number one spotWith the science, of a giantNew York defiant, brutal like domestic violenceSilence of the Lambs, o-ccured when I slammed inFoes grab their chairs, to be mad as Ralph CramdenOthers come with shit, as silly as Art CarneyBut my Tetley triplizes, more kids than BarneyNever need for stress there`s three bags of sessa damn I rest, playing chess, yesMy thoughts be sneaky like a crook from BrooklynWhen you ain`t lookin, I take the queen, with the rook thenI get vexed, layin phat trax on AmpexMorphous God, gettin drunk, off a Triple XViolent time, I got more love than valentinesThe violent mind, I blast with a silent nineVerse Two: Inspector DeckMy hazardous thoughts to cut the mic`s life support shortBrains get stained like tablecloths when I let offPowerful, poetry pushed past the point of no returnLeavin mics with third-degree burnsLet me at `em, I cramp your style like a spasmTrack em through the mud then I bag emWe`re screaming hardcore, hip-hop drips out my ballsand I be raw, for four score plus seven moreI strike like a bowling ball, holding y`all hostagelike hail, electrifying the third railPeep the smash on paragraphs of ruckusWu-Tang (Clan ain`t nuttin ta fuck wit)Verse Three: Method ManHot time, summer in the cityMy people represent, get busyThe heat-seeker, on a mission from hell`s kitchenI gets in where I fits in for head-touchin, listenEnemy, is the industry got me flippinI don`t give a fuck tell that bitch and a niggaI`m killin, snipin, catchin murder casesDesert Storm-in, I be searchin for oasisAs I run a mile with a racistPullin, swords, hit the Billboard with a bulletPeace to the number sevenEverybody else get the fo`-nine-three-eleven(Mr. Sandman bring me a good dream)I don`t know what`s going onif you can take us there...Verse Four: Street ThugYo, watch me bang the headpiece there`s no survivalMy flow lights up the block like a homicidalmurder, underground beef for the burgerP.L.O., criminal thoughts you never heard ofI switch, the city never sleeps, life`s a bitchI shit, runnin through bitches like Emmitt SmithCaution, niggaz best to be careful crossinthe street, before they end up layin in a coffinDon`t sleep, niggaz tend to forget, howeverPeep this -- my nigga Case lives foreverVerse Five: Carlton FiskWhat evil lurks in the heart of men?It be the shadow, street-life, flowin againI had a plot, scheme, I knew for sureOnly one kid would knock the hinges off the doorThe jerk tried to jet, Sabrina at his neckThirteen pounds on the table plus a tecJust when I said, "Where the fuck`s the cream?"Another jerk came out the kitchen with the M-16He tried to cock it, blast these shots like, rocketsCrushed his collarbone, ripped his arm out the socketMy move for the table was swift, I got my hostage(The nigga tried to stab you God!) but I dodged itNiggaz said, "Carlton youse a ill motherfucker"Cause I made it look like they both killed each otherAnd I`m out(Mr. Sandman bring me a good dream)(Mr. Sandman bring me a good dream)

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