Method Man, Redman, Hanz On , Streetlife - Straight Gutta lyrics

I’m from the killa killa hill
We keep it real consistent
For that dollar dollar bill
We will murder you in an instant
Fuck what your name is
You’ll be non-existent
If you ever try to show
Any form of resistance
I’m strong in the hood i’m in a good position
When I walk they salute
When I talk they all listen
You acting the part like you in an audition
Where shoot out’s in the parks
Is a daily tradition this is modern warfare
We play with live ammunition
Shot you through your third eye
Will change your whole disposition
The body never lie, call me the mortician
Every death has a story to tell
So pay attention premonitions on my life
Slip the banana clip in
Never put your hat on the bed
I’m a little superstitious
Got my black suit on
They say I am acting suspicious
Big gun in my palm
Look like my arm is missing

Ayo one MC two MC
When my gun out, everybody goes down
Word on the street, these boys get butter
Fuck with me, nigga
Cause this straight gutta ayo one MC two MC
When my gun out, everybody goes down
Word on the street, these boys get butter
Fuck with me, nigga
Cause this straight gutta

Got my black suit on, we get malicious
Hanz On checking in for the squad
He on his pivot
Got them big guns, make ‘em disappear
Call ‘em wizards
Will oblige, till you meet your demise
This shit is physics
Mr barka newest gee on the block
He is the shizit
Suffer Mossberg wounds to ya frame
You move a smidgen
Hanz rollin with the man he the Meth
Pay you a visit
Prerequisite have them all in the dirt
They all can get it
Used to percolate the crack in the pot
Until it dried
Now I am occupying spots on your block
That shit is aye
And when we popping off the gun at your top
We make it pie
You better take another look at your seeds
And holla bye
Yo as far as ma’fuckas concerned
Yo this is it
John Blaze press a button on dudes
They getting hit
As far as guns & that street shit go
My niggas fit
Hanz on with the cavalry yo, we in the mix

Ayo one MC two MC
When my gun out, everybody goes down
Word on the street, these boys get butter
Fuck with me, nigga
Cause this straight gutta ayo one MC two MC
When my gun out, everybody goes down
Word on the street, these boys get butter
Fuck with me, nigga
Cause this straight gutta

I got 28 38’s 48 machine guns
Wu Tang recon, check out the retard
I want that boat money carrying my green card
Caesar planet of the grapes in the weed jar
I'm straight gutta, mind on butta
Everything dirty wear a rubber
For the come up
Block nigga shine like a 5D shutta
Red, Hanz & Street run this mother

We getting beaucoup scrilla
My brothers on their grind
Not another Columbine call me
New school killa
Scoop of French vanilla brought a
Duce duce with her
I might pull a Lil Jon and
Let the bruce bruce hit her
I’ll be gone till November gon'
Cry me a river you could die
But I figure I’ma try and be the bigger man
I and my gorillas
They gonna fry em up for dinner
Like them boys from Cypress Hill said
(how I could just kill a man)

Ayo one MC two MC
When my gun out, everybody goes down
Word on the street, these boys get butter
Fuck with me, nigga
Cause this straight gutta