Method Man - The Turn (feat. Raekwon) Lyrics
f/ Raekwon"Everywhere I turn, I see, your face..."[Intro: Raekwon]Yeah, ah, yeah, yo, yo, yeahYeah, motivate, motivate, from the gate, ya'llYeah, aiyo, aiyo, aiyo[Raekwon]And we the Gods, still tear the whole hood apartDarts that'll splatter through faces, taste niggaz heartsI'm intellectual, plus professionalAnd Walbaums to vegetablesShit is right here, like buyin' fly gearDare any white man or fan nigga, ran through niggazBlew shotties in niggaz lobbies, the grand RZAWe left, the radio broke, I yoke my vocals, hittin' green smokeAllah Math', show me when the needle brokeNumb the whole crowd up, stupid ass Loud fouled upNever knew what they had, now they proud of usPicture my vision, precision, lines jumpin' out of commissionDivine got me, nigga, the boss, he pop meRae, we gotta generate, lord, I feel the Ditech, the mildewBuy jets and vehicles, steal a littleWrap up the whole rap government[Method Man]Go head, ya'll floss wit itWalk wit, I slap your boss wit itNavy blue, New York fitted, I'm cold frost bittedTwo puffs and off wit itYou smell the herb, 'fore I lit the spots its forfeit itBlocks is hot, feel the shot from fourth/fifth itWith no regard for your boulevard, just the shit bag and bullet scarIt's the Riddler, riddle me this, riddle me thatWho the pretender? And who the door man that let them enter?The Wu-Tang, 36 Cham', what you smokin'?Got you in the game chokin', like Van Gundy coachin'Your street team, bunch of weaklingsDon't ever let me catch your reachin'Respect when a grown man is speakin'Shh, keep on sleepin', and just like TLC, I keep on "creepin"The five percent of ya'll, keep on teachin'The heat seakin', missile official, that got issuesLike Funk Doc got snot tissue, it's Hott Nikkels"Everywhere I turn, I see, your face, but you're never there"[Method Man]Shh... shit ain't over..Okay, now, same shit, different day, grindin', gettin' paidSelf at it, automatic, guns that spit and sprayGotta have it, ass grab it, time to slip and weightGodbody, House your Party, watch the Kid N PlayYa'll gon' make me go postal, up in this mutha*****a houseFull of bloodsuckers and hoes that love hustlersRoll that izza, pour me another kizzaBigga, to my nigga, so drunk they can't get upShotguns through nose, hot ones through foesLet the herb spots run til the cops come, supposeI was just another stick in the mud, on a SaturdayThinkin', how I'mma get the fifth in the clubSee my crew thick, everyday I fights to prove itWe comes undisputed, with batteries includedHoney's "bee" like Meth, I be like what?They want some free cd's, I'm like "see these" nuts[Outro: Method Man]If ya'll mutha*****as gettin' high tonight, say all right, hahaIf ya'll mutha*****as gettin' drunk tonight, say all right, hahaIt be Tical, ok, haha, yeah, yeah, okIt be Tical, ok, haha, yeah..
