Grid Iron Rap

Lyrics

[Verse 1: Streetlife & Method Man] I Silver Surf the city circuits Forever lurkin' on the street surface I spit blood for blood verses Grands man divided, we still stand, conquer land One man'll body slam Def Jam Focus your headcam zoom in, with radio tunin' I know you're listenin', so I keep showin' and provin' Play the sideline, waitin' for the right time to take mine Street crime, nickel and dime rhyme Fuck a peace talk, let the gun spark, on the streets of New York I Shaolin Strut through the city asphault (FED UP!) Hold your head up, I'm circlin' the block, keep your eyes up Wise up, before you get sized up (TIED UP!) Play no games, speakin on my name, you catch a clipful From close range, diggin' in your pocket, take the loose change Punch the data in your mainframe, you want it all I want the same thang, strive to maintain, live out my name Hard to obtain, hard to explain, ain't nothin' changed Leave the same way I came, bringin' motherfuckin' pain [Chorus: Streetlife & Method Man] Killa Hill Projects, high-tech street intellect Let's connect, blow your headset, fuck a mic check Ring around the underground, pocket full of sound Ashes to ashes, y'all niggas goin down [Verse 2: Method Man & Streetlife] Yo... eat shit and die slow, battle ground, no survival You goin' down, y'all niggas fuck around Shittin' where you sleepin', so my rhyme proposal Came indecent, beef from the butcher, sink your teeth in Fuck what you believe in, you real fake, fishin' in the same lake Eatin' off the same cake, you blowface Who got that ready-cooked, synthetic look, actin' crook Betty-shook worm, tryin' to shake the hook, as the world turn? Nigga burn, once again the Super Sperm Rub it in your skin, like it's Lubriderm, time took to write this The war will be fought by the righteous Who stand criticized, by his un-A-alike-ness Knowledge is the jewel, and it's priceless Real like them Rahway Lifers, nothin' but time on my hands Observe the black sands in the hourglass, fallin' fast In this savage land, haulin' ass, 'Days of Thunder' It's road rad, your days are numbered What RZA put together, let no man tear asunder (Motherfucker) This is P.L.O., Killa Hill flow, but you don't hear me though Live in stereo, pump it loud until your speaker blow Ghett-eo slang pro, sling rap to cashflow Keep it live from the intro until the outro [Chorus: Streetlife & Method Man] Killa Hill Projects, high-tech street intellect Let's connect, blow your headset, fuck a mic check Ring around the underground, pocket full of sound Ashes to ashes, y'all niggas goin' down [Verse 3: Streetlife] My dick! (My dick!) I'm on a suicide run, y'all niggas know the outcome Razor sharp tongue, leave scars in your eardrum Forty-five bar seminar, ghetto rap star Slide like water rats through the Staten Reservoir Swingin' swords, cut your mic cords, snatch your rap awards Commercial cats, fuckin' up the game, that's why I crash boards Drape floors while you Jordan, keep on tryin' yours Hardcore, somethin' that my street niggas is dyin' for [Verse 4: Method Man] Snap your neck and the dope fiend, Golgo 13 Professionals, we know things, say no more Check my Dogs at the Reservoir, gourmet special of the day Is nigga souflee, pusher gotta pay And the games people play, John Jay back around the way Fish fillet, Mr. DJ, turn it up a notch Hit the replay, for dirt bomb niggas in the PJ To cling-on, bring-on, the good times, to key-on Hook rhymes that's be-yond, your thinkin', for eons I been here, to shine on the Black mind Tell you like the last time, year of the grimey nigga Ragtime, bad sign, flatline...