Episode 9: Ronin's
Method Man, Capadonna, Masta Killa, Hanz On
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Come on Ch'yeah Meth, where you at? My flow? Everlastin' My lines? Never lackin' Even on Christmas Eve, I out rhyme whoever rappin' Slime, shoulda tapped in But he blind to the facts in What the album, track one Time for some action Pass time for the last time I rhymed in this fashion True Religion, he never thought he'd die in his fashion But I got time today, if you dyin' then ask him Bars, forensic science, that's if you tryna catch 'em Lord, I think I'm over it, I ain't over here actin' I say it over and over, I ain't overreactin' What you picture is death, I'm just closin' the caption Who knows if I'ma blow, I just got my nose in a napkin Super Saiyan, technically, I'm electrifyin' To be specific, what I specifically specifyin' See that's progression and I'm especially rectifyin' Any confessions, I don't expect to be testifyin' From here on out killa, ain't nothin' gon' move Meth Lab's back, pardon the goons Back in the kitchen with it smellin' of fumes Charged water, hard crack wit' a spoon Staten Island, straight up, f*ck the platoons Heard the meth heads callin' you Meanwhile it's mumble rappers soundin' kinda foreign Find 'em pressed with Molly, tourin' The man deplorin' Naw, we never go live We either gettin' live, edit that Protectin' our guys, get it? Y'all talk about while we live it Y'all live stream and think you litted Ain't seen a face to face in a minute Call 'em exquisite, come and crumble your waves I got that lithium for days Homie, sharpenin' blades, yuh It's Mr. Parker, he get sharper wit' age Be at your door with the beard, I ain't talkin' no raids, fuckers Black mufflers got the cowards afraid We bet the situation grave We'll better dismantle your trades, nigga This is no glove hittin' the bar, bill open hand, callous slap Rough, ashy knuckles spark, split your face rap The quick loose your tooth jab, the fifty two clap A hunnid rounds backin' 'em down, the house trapped We still keep a bat in the back, the the bone crack Still spittin' actual facts for bank stacks Q-ball in the sock from the pool rack, snap his neck back Every time I think I'm out, I get pulled back It's like I relapse and catch a flashback I took the contract to kill an emcee so masterfully So who better than me since '93 Get you tied to a tree as a target if you wanna be Yo, I'm a old young nigga, I do it for sure White FILAS, white fitted cherry valour I keep hunnies on my side like Al B. Shure I throw my chain in the crowd when you see me on tour I'm at The Meth Lab re'in-up, I'm ready to score Hanz On, Methical, Cappdonna, it's hardcore This ain't a gang sign, naw, homie, it's war Fatigue Timberlands on, camoflauge door Sniper team on deck, enemies abort Staten Island, New York Homicide Hillary The Black X six, heavy artillery I'm laughin' at y'all, your raps is killin' me Pop your wardrobe, yeah, I do it for love In my block, homie, yeah, they do it for slugs Smacks hands with the homeboy, show that thug And never pop nothin' if you can't look 'em in the mug
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Written by: Anthony Messado, Clifford Smith, Darryl Hill, Elgin Turner, Leonardo Como
Lyrics © Exploration Group LLC
Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind
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