Method Man - Pull Tha Cars Out lyrics

Verse [1: Sheek Louch] We make the club jump every time we walk in this b**h Yea, we shining. You can tell my n***as is rich Rozay and Patron at my throne, women at my feet Staring like they want me to beat This New York rap, I'm on the other side of the map Nine nickel plate strap with a b**h on my lap Back to back on the FDR, big cigar You can tell there's a star in one of these cars She's with Ghostface, yeah a bird on her wrist Mask on face, *********************** Everybody try but they can't do it like this This Don Donna it starts I bet I won't miss Hey yo [Hook] (Repeat 2x) Pull them cars out We gettin money over here Them bottles on the table The weed in the air Your woman starin at us Them haters ice grillin Wu-Block, you know we in the buildin Verse 2: [Ghostface k**ah] Every little spot they know me Loyal females who can't just give me the twat They show me like I'm a big stock broker on Wall Street I said, "Nahh, I'm that big drug dealer from 4E!" A lot of guacamole, know a lot of parolees Slung in front of a lot of these delis eatin cannolis I stayed on the front line like private events in airports And live by the code I'mma bust mine Word, tunes, start shorty while I got a tongue in my ear Don't get a stain on my Porsche Light-skined said she a virgo Said she love my roll game and my bird yo A baby ghost appeared from the blunt smoke It lingered through her hair and set into her clothes Her bag fell, I saw a 38 snub nose I stole that and still f**ed her when the club closed Chorus 2x [Verse 3: Method Man] Bust honey on your face, hundred stacks on the car If I spend a rack today, get that rack back tomorr I'm a cash ruler, rulers zig-zag allah Get my money off the hook like I'm Abdul-Jabar Get my money off the book like Steve Paul Then fall, act hard, but they livin They think like a man, but act like they women I never trust a broad with that in God trust only trust in God Look at me, I'm what these little haters wanna be I'm your man, 50 grand and I keep it a hundred G I'm that block on fire, it's like a hundred and three Rappers come a dime a dozen but they don't come in tha peace I only need a few raps when you comin with cheese And the people you come up with, they be comin to me We got the city under siege Where the tightest ladies Wear the tightest dungarees Chorus 2x