Method Man, Streetlife - Dangerous Grounds lyrics

Oh shit, the fucking lawyers here
Yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah yea yo
Yo yo yo yo yo yo yo
All them real live motherfuckin niggas
Step up front right now it's goin down
One love to Long Island Hempstead
In my heart baby shaolin what?
Come on, come on, HA!

Dangerous ground
Tre pound seven spin around for my
Brethren the clouds come down
War and peace, I take it to the street
Land shark on my lawn chop
The thumbs off a thief
And curse his first born, is this thing on?
Send 'em to the children of
The corn we the people
See, niggas through the eye of the needle
My lethal injection, destroyin evil
Hot Nikkel what, private eye one pistol
Aiming at your brain tissue, do or die
Said the spider to the fly
"Could this one be tasty?"
Like momma apple pie goodness
Johnny Blaze me on the job like Dick Tracy
Hit the cure for that ill
Shit like Ben Casey, mD
Symbolic thrill like god he shocked it
Like a finger in a light socket
Too good to be forgotten in the rotten apple
I kick dirt on your sand castle
Check the flavor all natural

(Beat your feet) hot Niks son
(Heat-mizer) before you get the main course
(Taste a appetizer)

Submerged in the word
Heavy headed verbal that smack you
Mentally disturb you, attack you
Thirty-six chamb' once again comin at you
Young gun got the body snatch you observe
Wise words you can only see through the third
I fall way beyond the norm on the verb
Shine on mental nourishment, you can dine on
Track yellin at me "Get your rhyme on, God"
Victory is hard, regardless to whom or what
They all movin targets Allah
Runnin through your house and
Your block party, with rap shotty
And hot rock the body body, St bernards
Couldn't save your entourage, rap lobotomy
Leave ya mentally scarred, numb and possibly
Dumb deaf and blind is it
I kick the spine out the battery backs
Fuckin with mine keep it movin

Now everybody just throw your hands in the
(phone rings) what the fuck?
Peace - who this?

Mind detect mind, I PLO your startin line
Deep Space Nine
Designed for knuckleheads who bust
Guns and throw signs
Let's converse snatch the tap from your purse
Body-surf on the verse head first
Peep defeat
Bitch Street beat you down with the heat
And you spazzed out spittin out
Teeth ain't nothing peace
Big boys don't destroy blunted
Zone pop steroid
50 men convoy, expensive where's the big toy
Rumble through the wasteland right
Hand's on the silencer
40 caliber city slicker Staten Islander
Synchronized minds combine thoughts
That motivate
Don't perpetrate pass the blunt
Let it circulate
Street politicians on a suicide mission
Crime vision finger itching from
A scope-view position dangerous ground
Tre' pound seven spin around for my
Brethren the cloud comes down

Yo, keep your eyes open
Love potion number nine poetry in motion
Knowledge me the seventh sign
Scopin, connivin, infiltrate is most of mine
Play 'em nonchalantly, calmly expose the nine
Push and get shoved what the
Fuck cus thinkin of
Comin in the club wit that screwface
Actin up is we men or mice, bad moon risin
We wild for the night
Kill a schizophrenic nigga twice cuz-o
That's what happened when frontin
On the Shaol' borough
Island of Staten we in here no fear
Assault wit intent
To kill your whole regiment it's real
Startin wit yo president, duckin my dart gun
Tear apart son - you don't want
It then don't start none
Blaze one with Jonathon, part man part fly
Handle my B-I camouflage like GI
Fat like Joe, a day in the life
Your money or your life that's the life
Everybody can't afford ice in the struggle
Tryin to eat right another day
Another hustle hustle hustle
(Uh huh uh huh uh huh uh huh uh huh)
Dangerous ground tre' pound seven spin around
For my brethren the clouds come down
War and peace, I take it to the street
Land shark on my lawn chop
The thumbs off a thief motherfucker