Method Man - Duck Seazon lyrics

[Verse 1: Raekwon] My team be bellyaching hungry n***as on the swarm again Piranha nig bite dick, yo son, it's on again What up? He made a move, try to a**ist it Listen kid yo, you was born to be a pawn but I'm a bishop Back to the novel, yo Son, it's logical How you figure God? What? Flow on the track, flip the obstacle Now my proposal rips the global From California to courts, it's over God told taste the soul food Remember baggy jeans, the Timberlands in November Shorty called me Santa in December But guess what, my Wally's got messed up Autograph pressed up what, blessed enough to blow your rest up We scrape that, Land O' Lake that, Mazola rap Will get you sent back, represent the gentlemens who bent that Flash medallions like Italians, la costra nostra We moving through your hood like we supposed to Flexing, Lexi Diamonds hold the settlement To keep the bust your gun boo like that bad a** b**h in Dead Presidents Ad on the billboard store, check it now, you get the gold dick award It's like jail and it's the sixth floor Test me, floating in the S.E., now let's see Half of y'all n***as built your vine from my stress tree f*ggots, h*mos, yo, my flavor liver than adobo Stay militant kid, twist ya like Bolo You f**ing idiot, playing with my Clan but you be fearing it Fake one, I'm guaranteed to make you take one Please, y'all n***as money's getting low But could you come back though, set up shop and get the fat glow? Tired of y'all, mostly inspired by y'all So what the deal now, link up with us or put your shield down f*ggot (b**h), you f** around punk (seven fifteen) We battle for cream n***a [Verse 2: RZA] You want a pound crab? Nah let his hand swing I ought to punch a hole in his palm with these pointy a** rings No more said, knew your chump a** was dead When I saw the .44 reflecting off your shiny forehead It's Wu-Tang n***a, ain't nothing changed n***a Still 'Shame on a n***a', who tried to run game Your version of perversion, f**ing b**hes on Persian rugs Washing n***as like detergent, it's the surgeon Slugs propels from Bobby Steele's 12 gauge front page "Daily Chronicle" reads "Hell up in Gotham, take heed and protect your seeds" You fall like autumn leaves, you lack tranquillity In your rap utilities to f** with the abilities Race like a s**m cell to the ovary Microphone post tone like a rotary phone, ancient poems of poetry Old scrolls, explosive head bullets, black hooded, Timberland footed ninjas With 'Full Metal Jacket' clips and know how to put it in you Surrender your goods and your merchandise for no purchase price, I'm certainly a heist for your ice and curtains and vice Come quietly, Wu-Tang Clan rules society Because of variety, so maintain your high anxiety And lead them to defy me, diary, ya Irie? ... I need 18 points for my next joint, this high anointed king To make a deal, I be the one to appoint Steve Rifkind must have been sniffing To catch something so dope, it left Monica Lynch p**y dripping I f** hundreds of b**hes and split millions of dollars And built with thousands of scholars My life saga from the hill to the harbor, legal kid brown in Nicaragua Gave birth to MCs, thieves and bank robbers We drove expensive whips and took worldwide trips And my dick's been s**ed by the finest lips Fancy delicatessens and the world's best refreshment But none of the above compare to the one-twenty lessons Or my queen and my seeds in the home that I rest in Enter my zone get blown in 99 sections [Verse 3: Method Man] This rhyme has no limitation, this time there's no hesitation Collecting minds at the door You want it n***as it's yours, the flavors raw What the f** you think I'm flowing for? It's rhyme and reason Bite the bullet, n***as is fowl and it's duck season We at odds till we even motherf**er Bad a**es, high times, lower cla**es Taste mine, straight shots in dirty gla**es Bring it to him, room service, under pressure And mad nervy, waving guns at the clergy Ticallion, we ain't worried, keep them sick n***as 7-30 Picture this, watch the birdy These ba*tards is Ol' and Dirty, with sharp hymns That be stabbing you, pins and needles, needles and pins 'Nough said, dick in your mouth like Tempest Bled' As I race track with thoroughbreds, ducking the Feds [Verse 4: Raekwon] Yo, my ice look fly upon the keyboard son n***as ran up on me lord, praising what we do by the laws That's right, exile the fake, hit them n***as like weight Feed 'em food, let the fake evaporate Reconstruction, that's the whole science on my, production Y'all n***as guess who stuck son, left his nuts hung Switch, finger itch, staring at you like a b**h Maybe y'all n***as snitched You's a loner, Adidas shell top while I Sip a Corona, read the Robb Report, then bone her Buy you some j**els, here's some food Not necessarily mean to be rude boo, check out the an*loo We in the mushrooms, chased the high neck in the custom Baggy jeans, thick ropes god, sliding through customs Chill, y'all n***as know what time it is James Bond beamers behind me on Bacardi Limon Check out the pitch like Nolan Ryan, he caught a slug for lying Yeah you was lying, where's the cash, crying Militia, rolling in position Casa Blanca Cuban Link Christian Lex retali' back whistling fake f**s {*echoes*}