Elements Lyrics - Tical 2000 Judgementday - Method Man

[Method Man] 

(There... there?) 

One more game 

Yo, uh huh uh huh 

Staar 

Surround sounder, blunt smokin, remy downer 

Hip-hop sizzar slingin my raw in your flounder 

You get skidawed, undertakin' undergrounders 

This lyricist, lounge with low, that be lounger 

Aliens is out of townish, fuck applause 

niggas clap now with forty pounders, and fourty-fours 

Is it all, fair in love with war 

Young 'uns with guns, acting like they taking yours, uh 

Live by the sword, they gonna die by the sword, uh 

My vocal cords break the laws that apply to nature 

Low and these niggas love to hate ya 

Request the henney straight no chaser 

Twin towerin' I skyscrape ya 

Now gimme yours 

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[Star] 

Trifled disciple, arch rival reppin with weapons that homicidal 

Star leaves you marked from the start like tribal scars 

(Allah punk) I'm hazardous as a bomb and arms spinnin' like Christ 

Recitin' psalms in the streets of Babylon 

(Verbs I gather well)? data shells 

My squad camoflauge your wealth 

Like the bible with parabels 

With the navigator, spittin razor sharp, breath laser data 

That'll tickle you now, but sway you later 

[Method Man] 

On this one call me Lee Major 

Million dollar man, bionic or proffesor chronic 

Still not a player, I just fuck alot the panty raider 

Get shortys mad, they curse you wild on your sky pager 

Stankin' ass 

Photos 

[Polite] 

Yo Mr. Big Mouth, better duck down or bite the bullet 

You niggas got guns but you scared to death to pull it 

Bet if I pull my gun I'm gon' squeeze 

I'm startin at your head, son, and stoppin' at your knees 

I hate your screwmugs, rumble counterfeit thugs 

Niggas want mine, bet they come and get it in blood 

Fat potential, gave birth to a corrupt mental 

Foul thoughts paralyzin temples, it's just that simple 

Chorus 

[All] 

You better come with your best gun 

Niggas be holdin', it's all war no fun 

Niggas be bowlin', you niggas under pressure now 

My squads down for whatever with whoever now 

Let's get it on 

Best to come with your best gun 

Niggas be rollin', it's all war no fun 

Niggas be holdin', you niggas under pressure now 

My squads down for whatever with whoever now 

Let's get it on 

[Star] 

Arm leg shots to hit the spot like a four fifth glock 

We got this hip-hop shilock and all you clique got 

Was lip lock, heavy heat, steady street sweepin your peeps 

Hawks, machete chops puttin' cease to your petty fleets 

This raw rebel got more metal than pop 

And rock groups, when my glock shoots the scores settled 

A ground attack, I'm bound to clap rounds of rap 

Clowns are found flat, face down around the map 

Simple minds, cripple smiles, my rhymes are four five 

The size oh two nines combine, can't even tickle mine 

[Method Man] 

I told you once, I told your ass a thousand times, chump 

Body in the trunk, stay in line punk, 

(Fucking with your mind?) 

[Polite] 

Yo 

You be the actual, sixteen bars, comin' after you 

Never go against my team, they might embarrass you 

Slit-slang terrorist talk, fully armed 

Put your hands up, I'ma put a hole in your paws 

Ruin your side show, eyes low, brains fried from hydro 

Two choices, bass off or either die slow 

We all scholars when it's time to clean a dirty dollar 

Attack the boards, it's like a rotweiler 

[Method Man] 

Niggas comin out they shoes like they Usher 

These motherfuckers on the run, and they socks from 

The bounty hunter, Iron Lungster, rain and thunder 

Here come the lightning now I'm strikin' back at niggas bitin' 

Pushin' buttons just to step away from self-destruction 

Inch and a half away from touchin' somethin' 

Suckin' away from bustin' 

Yall brothers laugh now and cry later 

I rap from Alpha to Omega, sixty four to Sega 

Whoopin' that ass, walk you dogs through the lookin' glass 

Been burnin' MC's since cookin' class 

Makin' it hot like the summer in the crackspot 

With blacktops, my nickle slot, triple bar, hit the jackpot 

On each block, I'm the remedy, send them back to me 

After detock, shorty got knuckles in the Reebok 

Plus we got a problem with the Benz 

(What's the problem with the Benz) 

She want the six-hundred, but she aint got the ends 

Chorus 

[All] 

You better come with your best gun 

Niggas be holdin', it's all war no fun 

Niggas be bowlin', you niggas under pressure now 

My squads down for whatever with whoever now 

Let's get it on