Method Man - Wild Cats lyrics

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Method Man - Wild Cats lyrics

We in the lab smokin' that good-good Doin' everything hood-hood Hey, man, let me get some weed, n***a Like we should-should I don't think they ready for this Wild cats Boom boom Meth Lab, second season This how you make a song n***a Ay, ay Key to my city, my G is tricky, my tree is sticky Stairway is pissy, the crown they give me don't even fit me King me, it's risky, if jiggy get me, I plead the fiffy They'll never snitch me, judge'll convict me, so just acquit me The buzz against, I'm bu*ter-slippery, they think I'm shifty Zero to sixty, it's just a quicky, you blink, you miss me I'm just a fishy, got my bread and my chedda crispy My queen prissy, I k** her dead if she ever quit me These h**s only look good when tipsy, they said I'm picky, that's perfect You done scratched the surface, go ‘head and sniff me I'm pushin' fifty Can't find your woman? She pushin' wit' me Was pushin' .., the family business was pushin' .. That pusher in me, I did it gritty, no pretty in me I'm pretty trendy, I had to spend me a pretty penny One outta many, last to fend me, too many envy Don't gimmie-gimmie I do it dirty, no Shimmy Shimmy It's Hanz-arello but you can 'em Shameek from Belly Method giselle, we comin' out, we gon' catch a felly About the jelly, the P-L-O what we call the deli The Lab we smelly, could smell it all in your Pelle Pelle Barq or Cola like refrigerators but ain't no Perry Careful f**in' with regulators across the ferry It's necessary, I gotta bury my adversary These n***as scary, we commandeered his commissary This s**t is manly, a little somethin', so don't get weary Well kept from Missouri, I be your judge and jury I love .., you get it poppin', you'll feel the fury We tellin' Siri to call the pigs to come get near me Hit a k**er to be a k**er but ain't no skelly Pissin' on 'em, we sh**tin' on 'em, but no R. Kelly Speakin' country to Country, Grammar, but ain't no Nelly' Once Upon A from Shaolin wit' no Shkreli Yeow, We them wild cats You don't want that dope, we keep slangin' 'til it's right on your Coach, come on Where the bricks Staten Isle at? I got 'em right in my scope, leave 'em dead 'til I turn 'em ghosts, you know? Yeow, we them wild cats You don't want that smoke, we ain't rich, so we goin' for broke, n***a Where the bricks Staten Isle at? We fittin' to go at they throats You must be a kiddin' tryna go with the G.O.A.T.S Come on Yo, when I ain't sober, I'm bi-polar, invite me over Doc be dumpin' his ashes in your baby stroller When I was young I ate paint, lead, we called it waters Now Red red linin' the Range Rover motor I smoke west of the border, your bud outta order I go apesh**, I'm a season with a little .. Tell your boss I'm the opposite of a Trump voter Yo dude, this wild cat not from Villanova I'm in the cut, like a buck fifty, I Tony Toka Your side piece, I'ma poke her and adios her My hood house on the block, we real estate brokers We make it sound like Forth of July in October The bricks Tommy Motolla, yeah, I'm a high-roller I write the crack that'll bring back Lamar Odom That girl got good brains, I know she got diplomas She f**in' with a Goodfella, Ray Liota I'm kind of a big deal, I'm from the k**ing Hill You shackin a fool, barbeque chicken on the grill I'm not your run of the mill, so play your peep sk**s I hope your girl's on the pill 'cause she's a cheap thrill We shoot to k**, blood spill for that dollar bill Your body parts'll be landfilled in Potter's Field You ain't really real, you bust when pressure build Like steel water in pipes when the winter chill My louieville slugger, I call it Lucille See Lucy Lou, you like k** Bill, the kid's ill The doc fillet 'em like .., you see his last meal Your brains spill on your duck bill when caps peeled Might rupture my Achille heel chasin' this hunnid mills Streetlife, I'm hard to k**, call me the Man of Steel Real recognize real, I got ma** appeal You ma** and k**, you all a*s like Tip Drill Yeow, We them wild cats You don't want that dope, we keep slangin' 'til it's right on your Coach, come on Where the bricks Staten Isle at? I got 'em right in my scope, leave 'em dead 'til I turn 'em ghosts, you know? Yeow, we them wild cats You don't want that smoke, we ain't rich, so we goin' for broke, n***a Where the Bricks & Staten Isle at? We fittin' to go at they throats You must be a kiddin' tryna go with the G.O.A.T.S Come onnn