Lyrical .44 Lyrics - Method Man

[Redman] Selecta come!!!!! 

[Marley] Play this song on your fuckin radio, play this song on your fuckin radio 

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 

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Make way for Reggie Hammond 

Got more hoes than grand canyon 

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 

Photos 

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 

I neva wonda why so much ganja reach ya 

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 

Play this song on your fuckin radio, play this song on your fuckin radio