Method Man - Clap 2010 lyrics

[Intro: Raekwon] We gon', we gon', we gon', we gon' We gon' what? Collect collect, n***a, and network That's the part of the game, that's the part of the game, that n***as Never understood About what the f** we stand for, you know what I mean? I got your babies, n***a, I got I got I got everything, n***a You know what time it is, n***a, teach the deadly darts, you hear me You hear me? [Raekwon] Aiyo, call it the Hollow Bone syndrome line Select sweet nine, face this, watch his whole face lift Bracelets, murder n***as, luxurious, banks I was drapped Caked out, half a million dollars in coats Flows is genetic, the Corleone connection in all Selection, stock brokers with coats on Make coke suggestion, all twin glizzies Fireman, gucci boots on, sideways action, murder n***as fear me yo Cash that he did Clinton, rentin his mother crib out We send organize the Bill of Rights get lid Drugs that Hendrix was on, convesatin like the Dutch Richie Conaway, Goodfellas who honor Rae Flows that blow thru your roll and Holand Everybody now, trip up n***as, in clicks we posin rhyme black Half the year, half my n***as sittin upstairs Takin pictures of ya n***as wack gear Nikes that leap up in trees, big guns and big V's In front of your mother building, all knees, yo Spread mercy on 'em, get to moving like, big Percy on 'em Coming (thunder, get around that) [Ghostface k**ah] Porcealin floors with a dog named Ginger Bottle cap n***as that rhyme, we the winners Then slide thru your hood in hoods Me, Cliff, Patrick, Gary Grice and my man C. Woods Holdin up gorilla, two n***as got a hold that sh** One shot and ya mans on it The little kids watch from down the block Jury box, murder hop, six stash botch, fit hit the ran spots Spit at the statue with cash and throw dough at it f** b**hes raw, why? cuz I'm a pro at it Big birds danglin, cameras snatch, flash and pop from every angle and 2000 Mark Damian [Method Man] I drink till I'm drunk, smoke skunk with my stinkin a**, smell the funk Eekin out the pours, cum stain, sh**ty drawers Pissin down ya elevators shaft, no cla**, writin graf' on ya walls It be us, f** ya law, n***as my cause is "because" No yin to my yang, it's a black thing Used to be in chains, now we snatch chains Took the crack game applied it to the rap game, y'all Pop quiz, now, what artist hits the hardest? Ya down with the syndrome: retarted I think it was them swordsmen, place them chess pieces on the boards and Take it to square, this ain't no Yacub affair Or a New World Disorder, got us, f**in the coal miner daughter That y'all, but not us [Chorus: Ghostface k**ah (U-God)] (Big sh**, thunder) Get around that