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Utwór: Collaboration '98

  • wykonawca: Method Man
  • wyświetleń: 770

[Johnny Blaze]
  So what we smoke cancer sticks and weed and all that good shit
  Fuck the world, word up
  Sunz of Man, Method Man, True Mast', collabora-tion
    [Chorus:]
    Can't you see my love even though we be with thugs
  Brothers want grub gotta take it in blood
  Because is you down or are you down just because
  Can't you see my love even though we be with thugs
    [Verse One: True Master]
    Yo, when you least expect is when we attack, in fact
  your format, is not yet suitable for combat
  Still dissident factions within the Kingdom
  Campaign desperate attempts to take your freedoms
  Emphatically, wack strategy, don't impress me
  Impulsiveness'll only bring you tragedy, test me
  Descent to the essence quickly, niggaz strictly flip
  Fuckin with this royal assembly, the Sunz of Man
  summon me, Chief Administrator of the Law
  True Master in this hardcore Art of War
  I explore the depths on conflict and with no pretense
  found the best strategy the most impressive defense
  So when you rush to attack, it be I to crush your force
  and exhaust your whole supply
  Don't send for reinforcements, give orders for men to maintain
  they respective borders, or it's a God damn slaughter
    [Verse Two: Method Man]
    Shots in the park, it be on after dark
  Hungry like the Wolf when the beef starts to cook
  When push come to shove, we push through the club
  Pocket full of bud, baby armed with the snub
  nosed I suppose, you get body-snatched when you doze
  Recognize your friends from your foes
  or here lie, another one victimized
  Left for The Fly, now what size is this?
  Nigga your size, and I would be much obliged
  to get a fatter piece of that pie
  Still got my Eyes on the Prize, and like Gloria
  I will survive, at war with the warrior
  Hot with the rhyme.. pennies
  Turn the heat up, and bend me
  Prepare for the next milleni'
  I can't sleep, I'm in the shit knee deep
  In a race against time, beat your motherfuckin beat
  Hold your satellite Son, I'm from where you from
  Same shit different slum, where we about to go
  ain't no need for the gun, I treat you to a slice
  when we done, and all minds are one, yo
    [Chorus]
    [Verse Three: Prodigal Sunn]
    I be the Rabbi watched by snake eyes as the playa hate rise
  New York state side to the West side
  Fuck the best rhyme, best respect mine, from here
  to Palestine watch Sunz of Man climb
  I could tell a fake from a handshake for man's sake to hittin truth
  I translate til the land quake
  I plan my escape on the good fan base
  Strictly satisfaction like the Sunz of Man tape
  No copy or biting off of what your man make
  It's 1998, get your own mindstate
  In 1999 write your own platinum rhymes
  Can you see my love even though we be with thugs?
  Yo, words and keyboards we please the Lord
  Lyrics feed the poor, while the rich receive the sore
  Couldn't stay in one spot too long, split in fours
  Told the truth the four tours brought artists four doors
  I rock the concert til my arm hurt, doin God's work
  while you Star Search, I take your mind to Mars' dirt
  Uhh, what
  I said, can you see my love even though we be with thugs?
    [Verse Four: Hell Razah]
    This mathematical rhythmatical mechanism enhances my wisdom
  ? of Islam, keeps me calm
  from doing you harm, when I attack, it's Vietnam
  Through CD-ROM, the mega bomb severs the ice in your charm
  Too late for Salaam, slugs rip through your arm
  Double lead arm supreme head some fled from the bloodshed
  Painting many in red, leavin Iranians dead
  ? , hangin fast on they deathbed
  Out the window, lyrics flow like hot chemicals
  Burning competitors, from they ears to they asshole
  You wanna battle, I seperate your Adam's Apple
  Crack your skully with a Snapple bottle, on the Apollo
  Can you read black, ease back, we bleed tracks
  Breeze through facts, contacts smack your wolfpack
    [Chorus]
    [Johnny Blaze]
  Hold your satellite Son, I'm from where you from
  Same shit different slum, where we about to go
  ain't no need for the gun, I treat you to a slice
  when we done, and all minds are one, men from the Sun
  

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