Fuck Them Lyrics - Singles - Raekwon The Chef

Method Man: 

Yo, yo, yo, yo 

Fuck you 

Chorus: 2x 

What you wanna be when you grow up 

You wanna be thugs 

You wanna be pranksters 

You wanna sell drugs 

You wanna be gangsters 

Thats what silly boys are made of 

Raekwon: 

Aiyyo, aiyyo 

Cool G's and forty seven flavors 

Display swade gators 

We comin through 

To blaze neighbors 

Meet mark and pardon me to heat mark 

A dutch spark it 

Lex Leonardo arts profit 

Apple cranberry mixed with crystal 

Fan worry 

Desert mountain crib in the ground 

We arsonists 

One point five a liter 

Take a taste 

Splash your heater 

Smack your face twice 

Clap your sneakers 

Shit is like a mission to Mars 

Fishin' for bars 

Takin' whats ours 

Knowledge the car Pa 

Dont be stupid 

Get a little cash 

Better swoop it 

Throw it in the ground and recoup it 

Next check was best 

Your family pack your shit 

Get vexed 

Leave a nigga standing in a bag of leaves 

Some niggas catch on later 

Try to put them on they haters 

I met eighty of them niggas yo 

Waitin' on the sidelines droolin' 

Some need schoolin' 

Let me teach yo 

And roll a student what 

Rule one 

Yo respect if you lose son 

Dont be big back about to learn to move dunn 

All hell to niggas in jails 

With sharks in they fishtanks 

Now he come home he a whale 

Wolves in the projo's, projo's yo 

We realer up in my shows yo 

Middle finger five O's 

Take time to climb vines yo 

Lay on the lines 

Like Laury only lovin' Rae kind 

Sun splash cash layin like three bags of hash 

Fully wrapped in a indian man's stash 

Method Man: 

Aiyyo 

Chorus: 2x 

Raekwon: 

Aiyyo, get up 

Lex should be braggin' 

Get it up 

Fuck shorty got cream in a mean truck 

Prop-ness she hollar like the Loch Ness 

He large rock this 

Fresh Ferrari in a drop six 

Fro's 

Yo talkin about the dough on his clothes 

Glaze is crushed up pokin on rolls yo 

Oh yeah and maybe gettin' cream 

See what I mean black queen 

Stop actin' like crack fiends an' 

Brawl we wanna thank all of y'all 

Play the wall hype 

Checkin how this lady walks stay hawkin' 

Grab the remain, divorce (Uh) 

Shame came to yours 

We like green 

Rock the same gameplan, ours (Yo, Yo) 

Method Man; 

Ladies and gentlemen 

Your about to see 

A pastime hobby about to be 

Takin' to the next degree 

By M-E-TH and the bloody Chef Boyardee 

Watch out bitches is too nosey 

Backhand slappin' the phoney 

Got to walk it off can't mosey 

Who got you open up 

Crack pipe still smokin' 

Face frozen 

Coke straw stickin' out your nose and D 

Proposin' that you bleed on the Chef apron 

My thing hold down the play-pen 

And say the nursery rhymes they makin 

Come on now 

Shits too real 

Fuck you and now your man feel 

Time don't stand still for y'all bitches 

Wanna Big Ball 

I got two for you to juggle in your jizzals 

Im losin' it now 

Throw in the pieces like a jig-saw 

Aiyyo 

She multi-colored like a rainbow 

Mr. Meth and the Cuban Link kiddo 

On tracks we connect, politic ditto 

Take that to that 

Chorus: 2x