4 Seasons - Album Version (Edited)

Lyrics

Smoke More Grass
 Bitch!
 Brick City, yo
 Yo, yo Funk Doc straight lunatic since young
 I ate paint chips the rare moon
 That pair mics, my maintenance
 I battle you and then me and Meth exchange shifts
 For money, to your house arrest anklet
 I take it all, if not, here's a thousand
 Bricks, be shooting fair ones with bail bonds men
 I'm constant, on that paper chase
 Blow zip codes from bricks to 8-1-8
 Doc serve til you lickin' the plate
 Battle royal, in the ring smoking like Doc out of oil
 Fire thrown to the roof of you apartment
 Hit 95 then I hide with the Waltons
 Down South, the forty-four feela
 I'm a Dolo nigga, you a Polo nigga
 I'm an Uptown shopper, you a Soho nigga
 Westside highway running, homo nigga
 I'm the sultan of the ghetto
 The homicidal aficionado
 I empty niggas out like Cristal bottles, uh
 When I battle, I'm breaking Bentleys down to gravel
 I got the heat right here, we ain't got to travel
 I'm bigger than producers, I figured out you losers
 I knew my longevity confuse ya
 Big paper game, come on run into these flames
 Recognize the power of the royal King James
 Phantom Menace, that's why niggas make faces like they drinking Guinness
 When they realize I'm not finished
 I've been paid, I've been platinum, been spittin', uh
 Been eatin', been ballin' and you know I'm shittin'
 Platinum links, chinky-eyed blonde haired honeys sippin' rainbow colored drinks
 Black thugs with white minks, ready to jack the brink
 Bend your little wifee over help her stretch out the kinks
 That's why ya niggas freeze when I step up in the building
 The Godfather's here giving blessings to his children
 Carats shine, the world all mine
 Can't believe these cats is poppin' shit about papers in their rhymes
 Or bodies they collect, black Gotti shot a tech
 Them gangsta visions will have you ass up in an ambulance
 Cats ain't live, look up in my eyes
 We can do this one more time, I'll let you decide
 The Alize swigger, I clock twelve figgas
 Think Giuliani's rough I got some real shit for niggas
 Never been defeated, niggas retreated
 Made the choice to be seated until my mission's completed
 Get loose, get loose, Method Man get loose
 What the world gonna do when my dogs get loose?
 (Blaze one) Blaze one (Blaze one) Blaze One
 Blaze, blaze, blaze one
 Now four corners, four seasons
 Four MC's with four reasons to bring this game to its knees
 And while you down there, suck my dick
 My whole motto is fuck it
 Hit the smoke shop and blow my budget
 MC's abusing my bitch, using my shit
 I'm hanging off the roof with one hand, losing my grip
 Now y'all don't wanna see me do that, now do you?
 Go straight cuckoo and terrorize rap, do you?
 I do my best work stressed out and under pressure
 Deep inside the mind is where you'll find my buried treasure
 I'm still wild, still Tical
 Still gritty style, foul, crimi-niminal, individual
 Sing a song of sixpence
 Pocket full of chits
 Too many rappers be on John Gotti's dick
 Now this is something that we don't rehearse
 Put that rap shit second, and hip-hop first
 Easy, ain't Nann niggas spitting like me
 Nor Murderers motherfuckin' INC
 Niggas will pass me, look me in the face, ask me
 Are y'all really holdin' weight or did somebody gas me?
 Ja be the myth, Reggie hand me the fifth let me explain
 Your lil' man made me give him a lift
 So you ridin' with gangstas
 I'm up to a whole lot of other shit
 Murderers is the clique, niggas can't deal with
 Try it (Hataz) you gonna get yours to the heart
 Lesson tonight by the four-four
 Niggas want more than a little bit, hot shit
 L.L. an Red
 Ja Rule with Hot Nix I'm the best at that shit
 So bitches explain this
 Who ride dick so well, head game from hell
 I love making them yell, my name
 Rule baby, and ain't shit gon' change, uh, uh

Audio Features

Song Details

Duration
04:04
Key
10
Tempo
95 BPM

Share

More Songs by Method Man'

Similar Songs