Lyrics:
[Intro: Elephant Man]
Crazy mofucka
U know hey yow
Elephant mi say hail all warrior
Man a top a di top top brop to the exact top
Here mi told u
And that's just more work for me
You're calling me a winner
For leaving at the top, where you could be a winner
Come back all you want, like Tommy John
Just
(Woo, woo!) with cameras in black (Yeah!)
Shoot, shoot, shoot, blinded by that flash
Ooo, ooo, ooo, finally getting cash (I finally got it, though!)
chasing me (Woo, woo!) with cameras in black (Yeah!)
Shoot, shoot, shoot, blinded by that flash
Ooh, ooh, ooh, finally getting cash (I finally got it,
Down will come emcees fake shit and all!
Verse One: Method Man
On top I be the show shot
The bomb drop
After shot blow your bumba claat
(alright)
678, 404, bed made
I'm from where the rent kinda low
When you sleep on the floor
And the stick in the crib and the pit by the door
Long johns
the pul-pit
Leave a motherpumper with his John Doe toe tag clipped
Imperial classic, a lyrical thrashin'
A miracle happenin
Jay-Z, Killer Mike and Big Boi
like John Lennon
Buried in Louis, I'm talking all brown linen, huh
Big black nigga and an icy watch
Shoes on the coupe, that got a Nike shop
Count
is too big, I got hella waiters
The nanny got stuck in the elevator
Just give me the key to the microwave
The safe is too big to hide the safe
God in her eyes
The father of Christ, sure to be immortal
Guzzlin' beer bottles by the dozen with Devin, that's mi hermano
(Big Pun, will be here,
Big Boss
Hit 'em up
I'm a Top
Big Top
Bop Bop
Go
Talk about it
We can skill about it
Post it by the fossit
We up and glow on the stage
Bring the hate
I
like John Lennon
Buried in Louis, I'm talking all brown linen, huh
Big black nigga and an icy watch
Shoes on the coupe, that got a Nike shop
Count
pain
I can get you John Doe by a no name
Catch him at the Chinese store
Pulled two sticks on him, we eatin' Lo Mein
Nah nigga, Smack can't hear
(hair)
Aight rap City Tha Bassment, Big Tig', EQ
Method Man hey method Man hey
It's going down, check it out one time
Off the top I guarantee there's no
a lil bit more than that underground shit
Had that army fatigue, the Chuckers
I signed a nigga by the name of Big Pun
That nigga went double plat
John he ran to the top of the hill
To blow his horn both loud and shrill
Fox said "better flee with my kill
They'll soon be on my trail-o, trail-o,
, the grey goose is gone
and the fox is on the town-o!"
Then John he went to the top of the hill,
blowed his horn both loud and shrill,
the fox he said, "I'd
a Backwood, Swisher sweet blunt, orange lace dope (let's go)
It's just some shit I wrote
My city couldn't be saved by John the Pope (John the Pope)
I slid
Nigga, you need to git up, git out and git something
Don't let the days of your life pass by
You need to git up, git out and git something
Don't
Nigga, you need to git up, git out and git something
Don't let the days of your life pass by
You need to git up, git out and git something
Don't
Used to tote that Calico and serve like John McEnroe
Now I sell out all my shows
Used to sell out all my blow
That was back when we was coppin' dubs
We called 'em football heads when we'd sell 'em
We was goin' fed, movin' football heads, called it Helga
Codeine by the lean-a, pounds of gasoline-a,
the realest
By the time I take a shot they don't see it
Got bars like unlimited ammo
Reload the mag then I shoot like I'm Sancho
Imma young brown boy with a big
top
she be wan' serious, once she see my diamonds
She loving the racks that I'm stacking
The gas that smoking, by the boat load
Damn, neck wrist in
-8643.jpg/225px-John_Scofield_(cropped)-8643.jpg "John Scofield")
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