Method Man Lyrics: 4 Seasons Lyrics

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Method Man - 4 Seasons

Redman

Bitch!

Brick City, yo

Yo, yo Funk Doc straight lunatic since young

At 8 paint chips the rare moon ----

That pair mics, my maintenance

I battle you and then me and Meth exchange shifts

For money, to your house arrest anklet

I take it all, if not, here's a thousand

Bricks, be shooting fair ones with bail bonds men

I'm constant, on that paper chase

Blow zip codes from bricks to 8-1-8

Doc serve to you to liquor in the plate

Battle royal, in the ring smoking like ought to owe ya

Fire thrown to the roof of you apartment

Hit 95 then I hide with the Waltons

Down South, the forty-four feela

I'm a Dolo nigga, you a Polo nigga

I'm an Uptown shopper, you a Soho nigga

Westside highway running, homo nigga

LL Cool J & Method Man:

I'm the sultan of the ghetto

The homicidal aficionado

I empty niggas out like Cristal bottles, uh

When I battle, I'm breaking Bentleys down to gravel

I got the heat right here, we ain't got to travel

I'm bigger than producers, I figured out you losers

I knew my longevity confuse ya

Big paper game, come on run into these flames

Recognize the power of the royal King James

Phantom Menace, that's why niggas make faces like they drinking Guinness

When they realize I'm not finished

I've been paid, I've been platinum, been spittin', uh

Been eatin', been ballin' and you know I'm shittin'

Platinum links, chicky-eyed blonde hair, honeys sippin' rainbow colored

drinks

Black thugs with white minks, ready to jack the brink

Bend your little wifee over help her stretch out the kinks

That's why ya niggaz freeze when I step up in the building

The Godfather's here giving blessings to his children

Carrots shine, the world all mine

Can't believe these cats is poppin' shit about papers in their rhymes

Or bodies they collect, black Gotti shot a tech

Them gangsta visions will have you ass up in an ambulance

Cats ain't live, look up in my eyes <br

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