Method Man, Streetlife - Grid Iron Rap lyrics

I Silver Surf the city circuit's
Forever lurkin on the street surface
I spit blood for blood verses
Grands man divided, we still stand
Conquer land one man'll body slam Def Jam
Focus your headcam zoom in
With radio tune in i know you're listenin
So I keep showin and provin
Play the sideline
Waitin for the right time to take mine
Street crime, nickel and dime rhyme
Fuck a peace talk, let the gun spark
On the streets of New York
I Shaolin Strut through the city asphault
(FED UP)
Hold your head up, I'm circlin the block
Keep your eyes up
Wise up, before you get sized up (TIED UP)
Play no games, speakin on my name
You catch a clipful
From close range, diggin in your pocket


Take the loose change

Punch the data in your mainframe
You want it all
I want the same thang, strive to maintain
Live out my name
Hard to obtain, hard to explain
Ain't nuttin changed
Leave the same way I came
Bringin motherfuckin pain

Killa Hill Projects
High-tech street intellect
Let's connect, blow your headset
Fuck a mic check

Ring around the underground
Pocket full of sound
Ashes to ashes, y'all niggas goin down

Yo eat shit and die slow
Battle ground no survival
You goin down, y'all niggas fuck around
Shittin where you sleepin
So my rhyme proposal came indecent
Beef from the butcher sink your teeth in

Fuck what you believe in, you real fake
Fishin in the same lake
Eatin off the same cake you blowface

Who got that ready-cooked, synthetic look
Actin crook
Betty-shook worm, tryin to shake the hook
As the world turn
Nigga burn, once again the supersperm
Rub it in your skin, like it's Lubriderm
Time took to write this
The war will be fought by the righteous
Who stand criticized, by his un-AAlike-ness
Knowledge is the jewel, and it's priceless
Real like them Rahway Lifers
Nuttin but time on my hands
Observe the black sands in the hourglass
Fallin fast in this savage land, haulin ass
Days of Thunder
It's road rad, your days are numbered
What RZA put together let no man tear asunder
(motherfucker)

This is PLO, Killa Hill flow
But you don't hear me though live in stereo
Pump it loud until your speaker blow
Ghett-io slang pro, sling rap to cashflow
Keep it live from the intro until the outro

Killa Hill Projects
High-tech street intellect
Let's connect, blow your headset
Fuck a mic check

Ring around the underground
Pocket full of sound
Ashes to ashes, y'all niggas goin down

My dick! (My dick) i'm on a suicide run
Y'all niggas know the outcome
Razor sharp tongue leave scars
In your eardrum
Forty-five bar seminar ghetto rap star
Slide like water rats through
The Staten Resevoir
Swingin swords cut your mic cords
Snatch your rap awards
Commercial cats, fuckin up the game
That's why I crash boards
Drape floors while you Jordan
Keep on tryin yours
Hardcore, somethin that my street
Niggas is dyin for

Snap your neck and the dopefiend, Golgo 13
Professionals we know things, say no more
Check my Dogs at the Reservoir
Gourmet special of the day
Is nigga souflee, pusher gotta pay
And the games people play
John Jay back around the way
Fish filet, Mr dJ, turn it up a notch
Hit the replay
For dirt bomb niggas in the PJ
To cling-on, bring-on, the good times
To key-on
Hook rhymes that's be yond, your thinkin
For eons
I been here, to shine on the black mind
Tell you like the last time
Year of the grimy nigga
Ragtime, bad sign, flatline