Masta Killa, Method Man, Redman - Therapy lyrics

Yo, I gotta be around this music
It's therapeutic
The first fresh thoughts of the
Day are so clear when I walk, in my head
There's a voice that talks
In my ear I can hear so
Clear, you think I'm buggin', right?
I'm just contemplating deciding on
How to flow this
Out to the West Side my killer Cali
Gangstas ride and get they head right
Yo, son, I'm on the next flight in
Twist somethin' tight
I'm guaranteed to write a hit
Song before we reach
Throw the instrumental on and watch
This word pattern of speech
Men form, military armed, ready to swarm
Get your party on
Drinks is on the house tonight
Ladies lookin' right
Atmosphere nice and warm
We backstage like a hundred thieves strong
Ghost want the red light on before we get on
An hour's too short to rock
We got a million songs

Oh yeah, this real nice right here Kill Kill
Oh yeah?
Oh yeah, I'm feelin' this one right here
Yeah okay
So it's my turn to sit in the chair?
Indeed, my brother aight, let's go (Haha)

Yo, I gotta be around this music
It's therapeutic light my first blunt of the
Day to start the movement
I'm sittin' in the room with a view
There's always room for improvement
So I grab my coat and go and prove it
Just me against the world
You can find me in the streets
She'll spot me in the lobby
Probably find me in the free cop a 'Rari
The lobby in the linin' of my seats
Tryna put me in a lineup 'til
I wind up in the beast that's the belly
How dare they try to tell me when to eat
With a plate of food barely in my reach
My team shoot dice
We used to shoot skelly in the streets
Wear the same Pelle-Pelle's for a week
But now we livin' life
It's such a good life I wish
That I could live it twice
I'd probably make the same wiz my wife
It's Wu Tang Clan, always collect cheddar
Proper education, always correct errors

Killa house in the buildin'
You all ready, nigga?
Hey yo, peace to my brothers from
Yes sir, nigga good lookin', nigga

Yo, bananas, Redman so gorilla
Chi-town know I'm pimpin' the mic, nigga
One hit, and chicks follow me like Twitter
Crack when I talk, I light the mic stem up
The fiends hit it, chicks swing with it
I'll box niggas in like Don King did it
Sixteens I write, it's seems so vivid
My notebooks I'm lettin' eBay bid it
I get dough, bad pair for the sick flow
My weed more greener than Lou Ferrigno
My right hand man hand on the pistol
I crack these squares up like Nabisco
Oh, look at me, I'm lightweight
But with the heart to peel
Back your white meat
Yo wifey want me to make her wifey
Hit it, make the bitch hyphy at high speed
Doc