Method Man, Hanz On , Streetlife, Redman - Wild Cats lyrics

We in the lab smokin' that good-good
Doin' everything hood hood
Hey, man, let me get some weed, nigga
Like we should-should woo
Arrh-arrh-arrh-arhh
I don't think they ready for this wild cats
Boom boom meth Lab, second season
This how you make a song nigga ayy, ayy

Key to my city, my G is tricky
My tree is sticky stairway is pissy
The crown they give me don't even fit me
(Huh) king me, it's risky, if jiggy get me
I plead the fiffy
They'll never snitch me, judge'll convict me
So just acquit me
The fuzz against me, I'm butter-slippery
They think I'm shifty
Zero to sixty, it's just
A quickie, you blink, you miss me
I'm just a fishy


Got my bread and my chedda crispy
My queen prissy
I kill her dead if she ever quit me
These hoes only look good when
Tipsy, they said I'm picky, that's perfect
You done scratched the surface
Go 'head and sniff me i'm pushin' fifty
Can't find your woman? She pushin' wit' me
Was pushin' lifty
The family business was pushin' piffy
That pusher in me, I did it gritty
No pretty in me i'm pretty trendy
I had to spend me a pretty penny
One outta many, last to fend me
Too many envy don't gimmie-gimmie
I do it dirty, no shimmy-shimmy

It's Hanz-arello but you can
'em Shameek from Belly
Method giselle, we comin' out
We gon' catch a felly about the jelly
The P-L-O what we call the deli
The Lab we smelly
Could smell it all in your Pelle Pelle (Woo)
Barq or Cola like refrigerators
But ain't no Perry
Careful fuckin' with regulators
Across the ferry
It's necessary, I gotta bury my adversary
These niggas scary
We commandeering this commissary
This shit is manly, a little somethin'
So don't get weary wild cats from Missouri
I be your judge and jury
I love a girly who get it poppin'
You'll feel the fury
We tellin' Siri to call the pigs
To come get near me (C'mon)
Hit a killer to be a
Killer but ain't no skelly
Pissin' on 'em, we shittin' on 'em
But no R kelly
Speakin' country to country, grammar
But ain't no Nelly
Once upon a- from Shaolin wit' no Shkreli

Yow, We them wild cats
You don't want that dope, we keep slangin'
'til it's right on your Coach, come on
Where the Bricks & Staten Isle at?
I got 'em right in my scope, leave
'em dead 'til I turn 'em ghosts, you know?
Yow, we them wild cats
You don't want that smoke, we ain't
Rich, so we goin' for broke, nigga
Where the Bricks & Staten Isle at?
We fittin' to go at they throats
You must be a kiddin' tryna
Go with at the goats come on

Yo, when I ain't sober, I'm bi-polar
Invite me over doc be dumpin' his ashes
In your baby stroller
When I was young I ate paint, lead
With quarter waters
Now Red red linin' the Range Rover motor
I smoke west of the border
Your bud outta order
I go apeshit, I'm a Caesar with a little Koba
Tell your boss I'm the opposite
Of a Trump voter
Yo dude, this wild cat not from Villanova
I'm in the cut, like a buck fifty
I Tony Toka your side piece
I'ma poke her and then I adios her
My hood house on the block
We real estate brokers
We make it sound like Forth
Of July in October
The Bricks, Tommy Motolla, yeah
I'm a high-roller i write the crack that'll
Bring back Lamar Odom
That girl got good brains
I know she got diplomas
She fuckin' with a Goodfella, Ray Liotta

I'm kind of a big deal
I'm from the killin' hill
You shackin' a fool
Barbeque chicken on the grill
I'm not your run of the mill
So play your peep skills
I hope your girl's on the pill
'cause she's a cheap thrill
We shoot to kill
Blood spill for that dollar bill
Your body parts'll be landfilled
In Potter's Field you ain't really real
You bust when pressure build
Like steel water in pipes
When the winter chill
My Louieville slugger, I call it Lucille
See Lucy Lou, you like Kill Bill
The kid's ill the doc fillet 'em like veal
You see his last meal
Your brains spill on your duck
Bill when caps peeled
Might rupture my Achille heel
Chasin' this hunnid mills
Streetlife, I'm hard to kill
Call me the man of steel
Real recognize real, I got mass appeal
You Massengil, you all ass like Tip Drill

Yow, We them wild cats
You don't want that dope, we keep slangin'
'til it's right on your Coach, come on
Where the Bricks & Staten Isle at?
I got 'em right in my scope, leave
'em dead 'til I turn 'em ghosts, you know?
Yow, we them wild cats
You don't want that smoke, we ain't
Rich, so we goin' for broke, nigga
Where the Bricks & Staten Isle at?
We fittin' to go at they throats
You must be a kiddin' tryna go at the goats
Come on