[Intro]
Suspect chin niggas, no win niggas
Engineer that (Sick ass size seven)
Adjust the treble on my thing-thing
(Radarukus)
[?]
(Mook killer death track)
Engineer that (We're back)
(Heavy artillery, word)
(Streetlife delivery
Streetlife, yo)
Yo, yo, yoyo
[Verse 1: Method Man & Streetlife]
Suspect chin niggas, no win niggas
Send niggas back to go, try again niggas
All hail me, the Good, the Bad, the Ugly
The money's around your way, lovely
Where for art thou Meth-Tical god-child
I pack a smile like crocodile profile
Can't hold it down? Oh the shit gon' hit the fan now
Spin around let your gold crown man down, man down
I live by the street code, never owe, never love a hoe
Never flash the dough 'cause you never know who's friend or foe
Got block control, solid gold thoughts control the globe
Finish stroll through the ghetto, habitats with no parole
Never snitch switch which, keep a fresh pair of kicks
Split the tongue, snatch the weed in case the cops wanna strip search
Think first prepare for the worst when you do dirt
Remember there's a million hungry niggas with the same thirst
No doubt dummy out, bets pull the money out
Niggas walk a funny route, this is what it's all about?
Young guns and dum-dums, lum bums and sons
Askin' niggas where they come from, get him for his ones, um
Sunshine, it's crunch time, stranded on the front line
Ducking from the one-time
Niggas on the run where the cameras can't come, fine
Make this one the anthem
Ring around the rosie, pocket full of Branson
[Bridge 1: Streetlife]
Just because you wild in the club, you ain't thug
Sport gloves and gold mugs, you ain't thug
Tattoos and hard screws don't make you thug
Sucker for love catch a slug, nigga
[Chorus: Method Man]
Suspect chin niggas, no win niggas
Send niggas back to go, try again niggas
Shotgun slammin' in your chest piece, blaow!
Shotgun slammin' in your chest piece, blaow!
[Verse 2: Streetlife & Method Man]
Carry a ox and avoid spots
Cell blocks rap blow you for your slot time, what you got's mines
We can take it to the yellow lines and we can pull nine
Whether the rhyme or the crime I'ma still shine
Heavy on the street talk, cut your life support short
Never had no love for you so it ain't no love lost
Strictly enforced by a street source, get double-crossed
Hands off, I run with the torch
They got me fed up from the head up, put up or shut up
On stage in them shiny get-ups? niggas is funny
Energizer bunny actors, they hustle backwards
Son, I think they gay rappers, say word
Drops will slash ya, darts splash ya, party crasher
The spell caster, heard the same before and after
It's over, slug hit your brain, end of game
Dun, its over, end of the line, out of time, bitch its over
On the wrong street with no heat, hmm, it's over
We soldiers, somebody should've (Told ya)
[Bridge 2: Streetlife]
Million dollar ice on your wrist don't make you thug
'Cause a bitch is suckin' your dick on your skit you ain't thug
Bandanas and bad grammar don't make you thug
Sucker for love, catch a slug, nigga
[Chorus: Method Man]
Suspect chin niggas, no win niggas
Send niggas back to go, try again niggas
Shotgun slammin' in your chest piece, blaow
Shotgun slammin' in your chest piece, blaow
Suspect chin niggas, no win niggas
Send niggas back to go, try again niggas
Shotgun slammin' in your chest piece, blaow
Shotgun slammin' in your chest piece, blaow
[Verse 3: Streetlife & Method Man]
With the W burning through your flesh, verbally possessed
Never second-guess, blow minds like David Koresh
Fuck a vest, you need a gun to protect your assets
Deep in the Aztecs, break out before the sun set
Street wars, gimme yours, crime is what I live for
Got rhymes galore, next time it's at the Wu store
If you sleep late, next date is at the cest gate
All you sober MCs, I leave y'all niggas half-baked
Microphone is in a choke hold
Losin' control, bringing drama by the boatload
It takes drama
In the pillage now of Cappadonna
My split persona hit their village and their baby mama
Y'all niggas playing with this money while we stayed hungry
And kept it pudgy it won't make me have to crash, dummy
Before its over
You should keep your chain tucked in
And should never run your mouth with a suspect chin
Now lay it down
[Bridge 1: Streetlife]
Just because you wild in the club you ain't thug
Sports gloves and gold mugs you ain't thug
Tattoos and hard screws don't make you thug
Real thugs runnin' with hate, and smash love