Call Down The Moon (1995)

Man Lyrics

Man - BlackoutLyrics

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[Intro]: Meth *All my people...!* [Redman] It's Funk Doc Where da weed at, bitch?! I speed back wist, down to one-way from cops See thas' shit?! Believe thas' shit! Slaughter straight to camcorder, I'm too hot for t.v. Backdraw water, my windpipes attached to Project-ballers You yell: "Turn the heat down!" My voice, diggi-di-round-sound, some herb round town And chances of ya'll leavin', round now Wait later, will make Funk page paper They rape up the Juveline Ave Graders Hit the High School at 187 Caesar When I bust ya'll need to back 4 achers Doc ya'll and that's my man Jap-A-Jaw The shitlist ready, who next to scratch off? I'm from the underground, my soundlib Platform shoes to bitches, 400 pounds! [Chorus]: Meth & Red GET UP, STAND UP, BACK UP, PUSH 'EM JUMP UP, ACT UP TO MAKE YOU FEEL IT! Brrrrr...STICK 'EM, HA-HAHA STICK 'EM Brrrrr...STICK 'EM, HA-HAHA STICK 'EM Yo' BLACKOUT, SHOOT OUT, SMOKED OUT MOVE OUT, EVEN KNOCK THE TOOTH OUT, TO MAKE YA'LL FEEL IT! Brrrrr...STICK 'EM, HA-HAHA STICK 'EM Brrrrr...STICK 'EM, HA-HAHA STICK 'EM [Meth] Now I'm the streettalkin', dogwalkin' A pursuit with extreme caution, OH NOW YOU FORCIN'? My hand that rock yo' cradle often I'm hot-scorchin', but stome cold like Steve Austin If you smell what Tical cookin', ain't try to see, send you bookin' So til ya gon' stop lookin', now what you did last summer? So I started hookin', you past shookin' Over open can I ass-whoopin'? Ain't no Tamara's in the Method's Little Shop Of Horrors Go ask your father who the father from the Hilbill harbour You know tha saga, marihuana plushin' gold sluggaz With deadly medley, ya'll ain't ready for Shakwon and Reggie Don't even bother, the radio for back-up Alright then, ya man got slapped up extorted for his icin' Streetlife is triflin' *Body over here...!* Come meet me like Tyson and bite a nigga' ear Precisin', slicin' juggerless the cut-crew Ruggeder, Predator, Viking, Exatorer People's champ, niggaz be takin' off competetors Reachin' for the microphone, relax and light a bone Straight from the Caticone The Children Of The Corn, that don't got a clue Prepare for desert storm! [Chorus] I scored 1.1 on my SAT And still pushin' whip with a right and left AC Gorilla, Big Dog, if my name get caught I'm behind the brickwall with Aus and Nick Jaws Spit poison, got a gun permit draw Gundown at Sundown you keep score! This training-course and ya'll ain't fit On my crew-tombstone put 'We All Ain't Shit' [Meth] Yo', all you gonna be, want to be When will you learn? want to be Doc and Meth? Gotta wait ya turn I spit a .41 Revolver on New Year's Eve With the mic in my hand I mutilate m.c.'s The most slapped on ? and wink My shit stink with every element from A to Z So what you think? I'ma blackout on just one drink? You must be crazy! A little off the wall maybe Go get a shrink... [Chorus]
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