Method Man

Method Man - Killin Fields lyrics

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Good news Hip-Hoppers
 The big alert has been called off
 It turns out that the early reports were wrong, ALL wrong
 Now for that clan out there that had such a tough time gettin home
 Sorry bout that!
 I guess the only thing we can do, is play you a song

 Yeah, do that, uh-huh uh uh, UH
 Yes what what what, what what what, what?
 What what what, what what what, UH
 Yea yea yea (if you don't, lay back)
 Raider Ruckus (you catch a lazy jack) Carlton Fisk
 (Yaknahmean) Huh, one.. two.. (Shaolin What?)

 Shoes full of dirt, kickin sand on your works
 Something gotta hurt, catch a case off a verse
 Live in concert, kids comin out they shirts
 I'm hyped now, jumpin in the crowd feet first
 Meant it when i said it, lungs Bring the Pain son
 without the anesthetic, make em look pathetic
 needin help from paramedic, Hot with the Nickle
 Bust back, take em wit you
 Survival of the Fittest, and the world out to get us
 I feel it in my bones, I can feel it
 in my testosterone, when it's on
 Stat', bring it back, hard rap for you pussy-cat
 Cognac off the meat rack, where the pussy at?
 Johnny, got these niggaz mad at they mommy
 Jumping on my hard salami, say what you like
 In the Heat of the Night, I crash individuals
 Splash on the mic, air-tight with the lyrical

 Chorus: Method

 (Nigga run with it, have fun with it
  load your gun with it, and be done with it)
 Welcome to the Killin' Field, with Johnny Dangerous
 Headbanger Boogie niggaz, goin thru changes

 [Method Man]
 It all starts with the pad and pen, my special blend
 of herbs and spices on mic divices, murder men
 Make em mices, I recommend, somethin that's priceless
 For you rap hooligans, claimin you nicest
 Call it what you like kid, you can even call
 a psychic for all I care, still ain't got a prayer
 amongst the righteous, Blazini, cheat death like Houdini
 Word to bad bird that fucked nerds in bikinis
 Ob-serve, lyrical flows you being served from the gizzard
 Pluckin your nerves with nouns and verbs
 From the ghettoes to the suburbs, I must be heard
 Niggaz get what niggaz deserve
 You can put that on my Clan logo, Wu-Tang group for solo
 Bloody up my next promo
 With the blood of the next bozo, clown ass niggaz be loco
 Puffin on lye, cuckoo for cocoa

 Chorus

 Yo yo, shit be hot in the kettlepot, Twisted Metal
 bust shots til the beef settle, forget me not
 City nights get a nigga hyped, scar his life
 Send him back, now he Poltergeist, ghost!
 Tell him, who the number one rap most, huh?
 Verbal overdose leave him comatose, huh?
 The nigga with the golden throat is out to get you, Hot Nickle
 Bust back and take em wit you, eye for eye
 Never lie, crossin my heart, hopin you die
 Somebody pat the engineer down, I think he wired
 I'm off the meat rack, quick to react, my niggaz need that
 They need gas, cockin heat back, be out like Freejack
 The heat's on, you think one-eight, and Johnny's blamed
 Who that nigga, burn biscuit and spit flame
 Leave no witness, in the fast lane with shady bitches
 that only want me for my riches, I know your steez
 Terror Fabulous, caution, biohazardous degrees
 from this ravenous, emcees be yappin
 Meth be the co-captain, on Def Jams that's closed captioned
 for hearing impaired, they get a share, now what's happenin?
 Money to share, that's why we're here
 and you actin like we can't eat, like y'all eat
 Now we scrappin, out in the street, I know your crew's
 hardheaded motherfuckers and I'm just like you

 Chorus

 Welcome to the Killin' Field, with Johnny Dangerous
 Headbanger Boogie niggaz, goin thru changes

 [Method Man]
 I been in the ghetto all my life
 I swore to take that bitch for better or for worse
 YouknowhatI'msayin, that's for life nigga, y'know?
 Til death do us part
Get this song at:
bol.com
amazon.com

Copyrights:

Author: Clifford Smith (2), Derek Harris

Composer: ?

Publisher: Def Jam Records, Inc.

Details:

Released in: 1998

Language: English

Appearing on: Tical 2000: Judgement Day (1998)

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