Evil Streets (remix) Lyrics - Method Man

Method Man 

Miscellaneous 

Evil Streets (Remix) 

Spark that shit up 

and lets fly 

Oh my people 

Heyyy Ohhhh 

Ahhhh Hooooo 

Eiiii Heyyy 

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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 

Photos 

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 

This is for the gun Triggers 

The noise bringers 

This is for the gun slingers 

Bell ringers 

The bootleggers 

And every day bangers 

And all my hood hustlers who know where we headin' 

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 

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