Lyrical 44 (feat. Redman) Lyrics
Lyrical 44 (feat. Redman) Lyrics |
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Lyrical 44 (feat. Redman) Lyricsby Method Man Buy album CD: Other Songs EVI - T (featuring Redman & Damian "Jr. Gong" Marley) [Redman] Selecta come!!!!! [Marley] Play this song on your fuckin radio, play this song on your fuckin radio [Verse 1: Method Man] Oh no, another flow lyrica forty fo' If it gets deep, jump in feet first then hold yo' nose I'm a beast when you step on my toe you hear my whistle Checkin 'em hoe, you see my pistol lettin it go I couldn't wait to do a song right, hardly 'gon do ya wrong Time to party, Meth, Stephen Marley and Jr. Gong So selecta, come with it, awww shit it Now y'all done did it, supper ready y'all come get it Now who 'gon stop me block me pop lock me knock me Jamaica posse most high Haile Selassie Allah willin, another sound boy killin I'm hot bitch I don't catch cold or catch feelings The truth be the ghetto youth And Def Jam y'all know the Meth Man take care of his fam That's what y'all better do Examine our skin we plannin to win Worldwide tell the people we be jammin again [Verse 2: Redman] Make way for Reggie Hammond I, dig 'em out then tie 'em up for randsome I, shoot at your feet make you start dancin I'm pissin on your picnics where ya campin Doctor got the ziplock from Ziggy When the zig zag roll I'll rip your zip code Got bitches fucked up off the hypno I tip toe, then wait till they bend over (There I go) Aiyyo money I got a mo ped in Jamaica sittin on twenties (Blaow!) Look out, guns in the air (Blaow!) Selecta guns in the air No Belvedere it's Tiger Bone to get it crackin Aiyyo dread right or wrong I'm a sinner, winner of the underground swimmers Eat dinner, in front of Bob Marley pin up [Chorus: Redman] I don't care about your blinb bling bling Over here we let them things ring BLAOW!!! Give it to me BLAOW!!! give it to me BLAOW!!! Shoot it up BLAOW!!! give it up I don't care about your blinb bling bling Over here we let them things ring BLAOW!!! Give it to me BLAOW!!! One time BLAOW!!! give it to me BLAOW!!! give it up [Verse 3: Damian "Jr. Gong" Marley] I neva wonda why so much ganja reach ya And dem a wonda how so much conquer feature Blunt dem so big a must fi bun it Bob and Peter Teach it like a teacher preach it like a preacher Put you in a fever Pussy couldn't style mi up plus no under achieve Gimme di rizla gimme di cup and a couple senorita Jr. Gong di veteran a trouble when mi reach ya DJ fi fi fan dem inna Grandtsand and di bleacha Jumpin off on di truck, you best believe yah Babylon a smell skunk and couldn't get mi neitha Well ever since a likkle ghetto yute dem get mi crippled So mi know seh babylon dem a go get a weopen Everytime when we hear some politician trippin When a di big ting promote I'm right there wid di clip in So just smile now yuh flip yuh likkle flippin lippin Got a big forty five it's trigga finga lickin Then mi buck up yuh face so far yuh don't know what's happenin Dem wonderin how yuh get so slim it's like yuh fat and go gym Get mi girl inna mi cabin and mi cabin stabbin It is slappin jappin dappin it is non stoppin Hey! No pork caan cook inna mi kitchen If a gal try dat she's a dead pigeon Well woman a tear off mi pants stitchen Natty dreadlocks inna di benz and have recline switchin If a bwoy nuh like dat him may end up missin Rastafari dun tell yuh don't listen [Outro: Marley] Play this song on your fuckin radio, play this song on your fuckin radio
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