Theodore Unit, Streetlife, Method Man - The Drummer lyrics

I don't want the horns, blowing
I don't want the strings to play a melody
(yeah, it's hip hop, it's hip hop
The mic needs to be a
Little bit more crystal)
I don't want to hear the good time is coming
Don't want to hear the voices in back of me
(youknowhatI'msaying? Cuz I'm bout to go in)
I'm not gonna hear it! I
Don't want the drummer

Awwwww, Meth Tical, yo
You stepped on my corns and shit
Got the charm lit, bomb wrist
What type of arm is this?
I seen you at the Grammy's
With a triple Bar Mitz'
Can I kick it? (Hell No)
That's why she got hair in her
Elbows and she real slow
And uh, every two weeks she gotta see her PO
She's a disgrace to signs
She fuck it up for Leos method Man
(Toney Starks) the most important MC
In the whole wide world
Is you and you hardly even know it, know it
Know it

Watch me shock the world
Move the masses like a landslide
It's a lyrical stickup, everybody's
(hands high) see the bigger, picture
I'm out for the grand prize
I'm not a role player, señor
I'm the franchise

Aiyo, with Trife sweatin'
Every bullet is life threatenin'
And you could get a chest full
Of slugs in a slight second
Yo, my nine milli' pistol's really official
So you can Analyze That like
DeNiro and Billy Crystal

Aiyo, it's Ghost with the sky blue kufi
Smashin' groupies leavin' them fiend out
Like New Jack's Pookie
Every line is like ninety nine dimes
Shrine Auditorium rap
Aquarium's in my wall in the back

Now that you know my name
Niggas know my game
If you feel me, then you know my pain
I seen you rap dudes done stole my slang
Try'nna hold my fame
Ain't even strong enough to hold my thang
Wanna flow, fuck with me though, baby
I'mma try'nna see dough
My squad got them caught in
The yard screamin' for CO
Every time we blow
It raise the prize on the padrico
Ya'll niggas shoot your guns like
Shaq shootin' a free throw

Spark the fluid, hop out and park the Buick
I got fiends blowin' CREAM
Like Martha Stewart
We on that up north jail shit
Harder than steel chips
Ya'll niggas better bail quick
Before you inhale clips

Ya'll better get low
Before I let the Tec blow
Streetlife, I'mma try'nna get more
Dollars than Creflo the whole hood echoes
Every time my nine let go
Get out of line or steal
Your life like a klepto

When Biggie died
They came out with Biggie fries
Big biscuit's got me over
In the streets wide
Prada gloves, layin' for thugs, prayin'
Drop a bronco buster, G-37 on the rap patient

I'mma be the shit this summer
In that H2 Hummer now
Mami gotta Goya bean ass ay caramba, now
Eh boy el loco, oh no, I ain't Yoko
My hoes, I keep 'em lookin' good, right
But no dough

I don't want no horns blowing
I don't want the - I don't want the drummer
I don't want the - I don't want the drummer