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Method Man

Genres: Hip-Hop

The Turn Lyrics - Method Man

"Everywhere I turn, I see, your face..." 

 

Yeah, ah, yeah, yo, yo, yeah 

 

Yeah, motivate, motivate, from the gate, ya'll 

Yeah, aiyo, aiyo, aiyo 

 

And we the Gods, still tear the whole hood apart 

Darts that'll splatter through faces, taste niggaz hearts 

I'm intellectual, plus professional 

And Walbaums to vegetables 

 

Shit is right here, like buyin' fly gear 

Dare any white man or fan nigga, ran through niggaz 

Blew shotties in niggaz lobbies, the grand RZA 

We left, the radio broke, I yoke my vocals, hittin' green smoke 

 

Allah Math', show me when the needle broke 

Numb the whole crowd up, stupid ass Loud fouled up 

Never knew what they had, now they proud of us 

Picture my vision, precision, lines jumpin' out of commission 

 

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Divine got me, nigga, the boss, he pop me 

Rae, we gotta generate, lord, I feel the Ditech, the mildew 

Buy jets and vehicles, steal a little 

Wrap up the whole rap government 

 

Go head, ya'll floss wit it 

Walk wit, I slap your boss wit it 

 

Navy blue, New York fitted, I'm cold frost bitted 

Two puffs and off wit it 

You smell the herb, 'fore I lit the spots its forfeit it 

Blocks is hot, feel the shot from fourth/fifth it 

 

With no regard for your boulevard, just the shit bag and bullet scar 

It's the Riddler, riddle me this, riddle me that 

Who the pretender? And who the door man that let them enter? 

The Wu-Tang, 36 Cham', what you smokin'? 

 

Got you in the game chokin', like Van Gundy coachin' 

Your street team, bunch of weaklings 

 

Photos 

 

Don't ever let me catch your reachin' 

Respect when a grown man is speakin' 

Shh, keep on sleepin', and just like TLC, I keep on "creepin" 

The five percent of ya'll, keep on teachin' 

 

The heat seakin', missile official, that got issues 

Like Funk Doc got snot tissue, it's Hott Nikkels 

 

"Everywhere I turn, I see, your face, but you're never there" 

 

Shh... shit ain't over. 

Okay, now, same shit, different day, grindin', gettin' paid 

 

Self at it, automatic, guns that spit and spray 

Gotta have it, ass grab it, time to slip and weight 

Godbody, House your Party, watch the Kid N Play 

Ya'll gon' make me go postal, up in this muthafucka house 

 

Full of bloodsuckers and hoes that love hustlers 

Roll that izza, pour me another kizza 

Bigga, to my nigga, so drunk they can't get up 

Shotguns through nose, hot ones through foes 

Let the herb spots run til the cops come, suppose 

I was just another stick in the mud, on a Saturday 

Thinkin', how I'mma get the fifth in the club 

See my crew thick, everyday I fights to prove it 

We comes undisputed, with batteries included 

Honey's "bee" like Meth, I be like what? 

They want some free cd's, I'm like "see these" nuts 

 

If ya'll muthafuckas gettin' high tonight, say all right, haha 

If ya'll muthafuckas gettin' drunk tonight, say all right, haha 

It be Tical, ok, haha, yeah, yeah, ok 

It be Tical, ok, haha, yeah. 

Writer: ,

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