[Intro: Method Man]
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Spark that shit up
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and lets fly
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Oh my people
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Heyyy Ohhhh
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Ahhhh Hooooo
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Eiiii Heyyy
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[Verse One: Sticky Fingaz]
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I'm a hoodlum
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A dick in the dirt is what i'm holding
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Sporting mad Polo but only if its stolen
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I got no morals my mind is in the gutter
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KId I'll open up your face with my orange box cutter
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Soak you when you least expect it
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Before I met Russel I only had a jail record
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Plus nothing ever hurt me when I was at home
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These Evil Streets got a mind of their own
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My Pops left me for dead with just the clothes on my back
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I grew up selling crack
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And learning to drive a car jack
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I got street smarts and I use intuition
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I can spot an undercover with my x-ray vision
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And if anybody test me out there
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They gonna make me kill them and throw away my carear
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I'm my Mothers first born, Her last bad seed
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[Verse Two: Fredro Star a.k.a. Never]
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Its all about the next caper
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The cocaine, props and acres
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For the sake ah
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Snatchin the green paper
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Me and my crew roll in the zone of the twilight
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The news highlight
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When the next shit don't go right
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Its so tight its blazing
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A nigga squeezed hayz in
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got 'em geezing for a runner
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Then the plot thickens
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On point like Rod Strickland
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Clocks ticking
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Makes the hardest niggas clicks stop ticking
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Hitting they stash
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And murdering like and expert
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Cover ya tracks
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And conceal that dirty shit
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[Chorus: Method Man]
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This is for the gun Triggers
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The noise bringers
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This is for the gun slingers
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Bell ringers
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The bootleggers
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And every day bangers
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And all my hood hustlers who know where we headin'
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[repeat 2X]
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[Verse Three: Sonsee]
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Its all about the $50,000 cars
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Dice games and ice chains
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We out of the average niggas price range
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Rings and Remy mixed with Henny
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Chicks with Fendi sucking disk in the Infinity
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This nigga had mad deco
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Fucking petro the nickel metro Blow
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All you heard was the gun echo
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On a dead nbight I get my head right
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Running red lights no headlights
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Pumping Buddah in a black Benz
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Pulling out Mac 10's
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Its just the smell of fucking cigarettes
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Broke niggas with assed out
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Took 2 puffs and passed out
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Woke him up with 21 shots of penicillin
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amped him up
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I guess thought it was hempacillin
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Yo chill kid lamp kid, chill kid you livin'
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Aye yo JB hit me one time
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[Verse Four: Method Man]
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Its the Blaze that be Johnny
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Not many shots can do that ass raunchy
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Lyric to the muzak we rolling
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Watch out for the niggas that be holding
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Raunchy fucking up your colon
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Of course its Tical
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Verbal assault
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We can walk these dogs through all 5 boroughs of New York
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Some talk
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While other individuals walk
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In my square tryin' to hide thoughts
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Spreading lies in my ears
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Got me questioning my peers
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That be show and prove they don't belong here
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I be the Chef in Hells Kitchen
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Pop in the clip and hit the DJ if the records skipping
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My competition gotta keep me at arms distance
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I know myself onion head niggas don't listen
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I shoot the what
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Got no time for that wiz bitchin'
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I'm about to blow in 5 seconds
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The clocks ticking consider this another mission
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impossible as he gets hostile
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Uncut blowing up your nostril
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We There
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Come on take another if you dare
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The reason why its so raw cause its real
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I swear by the hairs on my Chin Chiggy Chin
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To the day I die I represent the Grimy niggas
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The ones who can't afford Tommy Hillfigger
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The down and dirty Johnny fill Niggas
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[Yeah]
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[Chorus 2X]
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-----------------
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Evil Streets (Remix)
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Method Man |