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 its 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 its 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 its 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 its so raw cause its 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