King Just, Method Man, Sic - Three Amigos (If It’s On) lyrics

Say what? Ain't no pushin
Say what? None of that shit goin on yo

Made from the best shit on Earth
I bring it to ya first
Sick verse from the thurst
In the darkness we lurk
Load a cartridge and burst
On the scene, like a new team
Let 'em on our witness
The Method how I do things
Perfected, my routine's are
Hectic and knockin
General Electric, I'm shockin (bzzz)
Now who top ten
To rot and land once forgotten
Niggas poppin Crys' now
They stock market droppin
They poison, I'm the antitoxin
That keep the party rockin
And got me for us all, Johnny Cochran
Get me off, grant them the ball, if I walk
Put that order in the court, yeah
Give me crack on and who
The fuck really care, yeah
World best prepare for Tical, to beware
Or be gone outta here, you be warned
Fuck all, get off that bullshit
And kick the fuckin tux off, now it's on

If it's on, then it's on
We can get it on, gat for gat
Track for track, song for song
If it's on, then it's on we can get it on
So what ya want nigga, ya want nigga? huh?

You got the beat from another planet
Think I don't rock like granite
Lyrical giantical, submerge the Titanic
Panic with the frantic
Antic watch them vanish
In the zone, by my own, maricon
If you Spanish the outlandish
Even though they can't stand us
You better off gettin pick a size
Tryin to ban us
Either way you put it off, I'mma be heard
That's my word, Stone Cold, Goldberg
Like a nerve, don't fuck what ya heard
That nigga just started hangin
Out on the curb
What's the verdict, soundin like me
You can't word it i put it in overdrive
While you short circuit
Worship the ground that I walk on
I brought on
All the real niggas that you talked on
Blahzay Blah, so on, it's a done deal
Don't even go on
Soundin nauseous, to choke on strong
To get my smoke on

Talkin 'bout gats, ain't no bustin clacks
And ain't hustlin
Too many cats that wanna rap
And ain't sayin nuthin foolin ya self
How let ya ass do it to ya self
When it comes to cash, we the ones doin it
Who else?
Walkin our dogs, ya cats better beat yours
Hot heat reach y'all
Before you even get a chance to recharge
You weak paw
Me and my street niggas a' eat y'all we all
Guess they ain't no question that we sure
B-song, soon as you throw the fuckin beat on
Dick riders ride
Followers follow our lead on (you a fly guy)
I'ma have to air ya guys out
My shit is plat' before it even exit my mouth
SINY nigga, who wan' try?
Treatin a batty boy head, boom bye bye
IQ sky high, I flaunt y'all to hardcore
Conquer, why you frontin dunn?
You don't want war

Three Amigos (we can get it on)
Method Man talkin Spanish
Punk! yeah yeah yeah yeah king Just
Sic mr meth
We gon polly to the death, yo
SINY, 10304 echo