Elements lyrics

Artist  : Man Method 
Song : Elements



 Send "Elements" Ringtone to your Cell 

 												
														   Method Man] 

 (There...there?) 

 One more game 

 Yo, uh huh uh huh 

 Staar 

 Surround sounder, blunt smokin, remy downer 

 Hip-hop sizzar slingin my raw in your flounder


 You get skidawed, undertakin' undergrounders 

 This lyricist, lounge with low, that be lounger


 Aliens is out of townish, fuck applause 

 niggas clap now with forty pounders, and
fourty-fours 

 Is it all, fair in love with war 

 Young 'uns with guns, acting like they taking
yours, uh 

 Live by the sword, they gonna die by the sword,
uh 

 My vocal cords break the laws that apply to
nature 

 Low and these niggas love to hate ya 

 Request the henney straight no chaser 

 Twin towerin' I skyscrape ya 

 Now gimme yours 

  

 [Star] 

 Trifled disciple, arch rival reppin with weapons
that homicidal 

 Star leaves you marked from the start like
tribal scars 

 (Allah punk) I'm hazardous as a bomb and arms
spinnin' like Christ 

 Recitin' psalms in the streets of Babylon 

 (Verbs I gather well) ??? data shells 

 My squad camoflauge your wealth 

 Like the bible with parabels 

 With the navigator, spittin razor sharp, breath
laser data 

 That'll tickle you now, but sway you later 

  

 [Method Man] 

 On this one call me Lee Major 

 Million dollar man, bionic or proffesor chronic


 Still not a player, I just fuck alot the panty
raider 

 Get shortys mad, they curse you wild on your sky
pager 

 Stankin' ass 

  

 [Polite] 

 Yo Mr. Big Mouth, better duck down or bite the
bullet 

 You niggas got guns but you scared to death to
pull it 

 Bet if I pull my gun I'm gon' squeeze 

 I'm startin at your head, son, and stoppin' at
your knees 

 I hate your screwmugs, rumble counterfeit thugs


 Niggas want mine, bet they come and get it in
blood 

 Fat potential, gave birth to a corrupt mental


 Foul thoughts paralyzin temples, it's just that
simple 

  

 Chorus 

 [All] 

 You better come with your best gun 

 Niggas be holdin', it's all war no fun 

 Niggas be bowlin', you niggas under pressure now


 My squads down for whatever with whoever now 

 Let's get it on 

 Best to come with your best gun 

 Niggas be rollin', it's all war no fun 

 Niggas be holdin', you niggas under pressure now


 My squads down for whatever with whoever now 

 Let's get it on 

  

 [Star] 

 Arm leg shots to hit the spot like a four fifth
glock 

 We got this hip-hop shilock and all you clique
got 

 Was lip lock, heavy heat, steady street sweepin
your peeps 

 Hawks, machete chops puttin' cease to your petty
fleets 

 This raw rebel got more metal than pop 

 And rock groups, when my glock shoots the scores
settled 

 A ground attack, I'm bound to clap rounds of rap


 Clowns are found flat, face down around the map


 Simple minds, cripple smiles, my rhymes are four
five 

 The size oh two nines combine, can't even tickle
mine 

  

 [Method Man] 

 I told you once, I told your ass a thousand
times, chump 

 Body in the trunk, stay in line punk, 

 (Fucking with your mind?) 

  

 [Polite] 

 Yo 

 You be the actual, sixteen bars, comin' after
you 

 Never go against my team, they might embarrass
you 

 Slit-slang terrorist talk, fully armed 

 Put your hands up, I'ma put a hole in your paws


 Ruin your side show, eyes low, brains fried from
hydro 

 Two choices, bass off or either die slow 

 We all scholars when it's time to clean a dirty
dollar 

 Attack the boards, it's like a rotweiler 

  

 [Method Man] 

 Niggas comin out they shoes like they Usher 

 These motherfuckers on the run, and they socks
from 

 The bounty hunter, Iron Lungster, rain and
thunder 

 Here come the lightning now I'm strikin' back at
niggas bitin' 

 Pushin' buttons just to step away from
self-destruction 

 Inch and a half away from touchin' somethin' 

 Suckin' away from bustin' 

 Yall brothers laugh now and cry later 

 I rap from Alpha to Omega, sixty four to Sega


 Whoopin' that ass, walk you dogs through the
lookin' glass 

 Been burnin' MC's since cookin' class 

 Makin' it hot like the summer in the crackspot


 With blacktops, my nickle slot, triple bar, hit
the jackpot 

 On each block, I'm the remedy, send them back to
me 

 After detock, shorty got knuckles in the Reebok


 Plus we got a problem with the Benz 

 (What's the problem with the Benz) 

 She want the six-hundred, but she aint got the
ends 

  

 Chorus 

 [All] 

 You better come with your best gun 

 Niggas be holdin', it's all war no fun 

 Niggas be bowlin', you niggas under pressure now


 My squads down for whatever with whoever now 

 Let's get it on