Ghostface Killah, Streetlife, Method Man - Box In Hand lyrics

Yeah, assorted flavor Clarks
No doubt, it be the champ
Yeah, curly head kid yo, yo, yo

From Gators to blazers, low fades and razors
Big dick saloon, I contact the womb
The Black Asian wrist
Location keeps circulating
My wonder twin power activate
Shit on this nation
Allah seen represent the gumby wintergreen
Who walk mean stand up on your
Block and burn a bean
Sip Ballantyne looking at that
Bitch wide behind
The thing that's fucking up her
Grill is that swine
Then turn around take my last pull off the L
These niggas up the block keep
Looking at me well
Do they want the jewel, It Ain't Hard to Tell
I recognize a face, he acting like Denzel
Fuck 'em, I want to check Mo for a chop
Told him: bald on the sides, light fade
Rough top now it's a whole new ball game
Strategic mind frame
My dialogue's rebellious rain
And reign supreme glanced at a red light
Seen Killah get on a ninja bike
Show my love to the god
He peeled out and made a right

When you walking down your street with
Your box in your hand
And you bringing the music of
The Wu Tang Clan
And you hear Ironman on your radio, rapping
Your feet start to dancing and
Your hands start the clapping

Street's running through your
Dance hall gunning
Like Lee Harvey Oswald stunning
Slapping MCs with summons
For pumping that watered down substance
Peep this slugs finger creeping
Making moves like Crying Freeman
Prince of Thieves, Earth third seed
Heavyweight like Golden Fleece as
Homicide stroll the streets
In blue Caprice and looking
For thugs holding heat
Inner city beef got me plotting trilogy
To dispose enemies sneak attacks
I'm beyond and above that
Seen that, done that–respect, black
I catch a slug to your hardhat
Lounging in the Everglades
Surfing the airwave, catch a Buck-50
With the razor blade swiftly
Shaolin cats be shiesty
Strictly drunk off the Irish whiskey

When you walking down your street with
Your box in your hand
And you bringing the music of
The Wu Tang Clan
And you hear Ironman on your radio, rapping
Your feet start to dancing and
Your hands start the clapping

Rest your headpiece on this one son
Cough up a lung
Sleeping on my murderous type
Ones'lI get you done
I'm looking at these cutthroat kids
And how they live
It's like we was partners in
Spades and you renege
Can't fuck with no nigga like that
He get me jack or sent back
Meaning whole life fade to black
Whole 7 and a half, up right and roll tight
Fool me once but can't fool me twice, I'm 25
To life on this mic device I'm nothing nice
A mixture of long wild rice and Old Spice
Inflicted, rap addicted, track I stick it
Flip it, daddy long dick it, slide
A little bit beyond twisted, mind in stitches
You thought weak but meant wicked
Niggas choke off my secondhand smoke, lifted
Everyday is like my birthday I'm mad gifted
Dead calm hit me with the 18 Bronze
Buddha Palm
About to blow like Napalm, go for your arm
Prepare for the warfare or buy a share
Oh what the fuck we dealing with, yeah
Johnny about to go there, need another year
Bust a shot for my sons
That didn't make it here