Music Video

Featured In

Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
Method Man
Method Man
Performer
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Clifford Smith
Clifford Smith
Composer
Corey Woods
Corey Woods
Composer
Robert Diggs
Robert Diggs
Composer
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
RZA
RZA
Producer
Lilo
Lilo
Recording Engineer
Jose Reynoso
Jose Reynoso
Mixing Engineer

Lyrics

Yeah, uh, heh, heh That's Shadowboxing Yo It's that Blackout, spazzed out, G-String divas Leave you a**** out, passed out, it's cold Pack your h*** u*, blow your back out You bad mouth, make 'em all believers Throwing rocks from a glass house, y'all ain't perfect either See that c***** and that h*** out garbage day tomorrow And I have yet to take that trash out or emptied this cigar RZA, Rah, we amped, eh, Meth is on his job It ain't nothing like the French say, "Che sera sera" So let's move on until the day we laying in the casket With them suits on and I'm so cool that hell is only luke warm Been too strong for too long, I'll probably die With my boots on and on my way to cash a c****** coupon You know I'm, proper, don't let them boys confuse you The fact is Meth, I'm harder than bottles made by Yoo-Hoo Wu-Tang, welcome to the House of Flying Daggers Where the truth aim, flying out the mouth Of flying rappers there it is Now ask yourself is this for real? it can't be My n****, if it ain't for real, it ain't me I elect myself as presidential M.C. I elect myself as presidential M.C. Now ask yourself why is he so low key? Why, is n****z pimpin' when the game chose me I elect myself as presidential M.C. I elect myself as presidential M.C. Yo, b*** 'em and hit 'em, and he went into a spin cycle Outblew his liver, a river flooded, what's happening? It's drugs we wanted, gloves buttered, thug coverage This is Fila, white sneaker, Louis Vitton luggage I came, representative huddle, they all love you That W, the legacy of little n****z muggin' you The f***, what's up with you, yo, you suck, n**** Benches used to pluck n****z, we be on the roof, like "f*** you" Them r** b**** is coming, losers, got to walk the plank Users with U**'s on 'em, you move, you getting spanked Shank broilers banked, alcoholics ranked ballers They should call us, I rock mad ice like a walrus The lam esters decided to lure us, we was up in Freedom town Getting w*****, one Bentley tour bus, you might like the mack And explore d***, y** c*** f*** with all of us One of us dropped, there's twenty more of us Now ask yourself is this for real? it can't be My n****, if it ain't for real, it ain't me I elect myself as presidential M.C. I elect myself as presidential M.C. Now ask yourself why is he so low key? Why is n****z pimpin' when the game chose me I elect myself as presidential M.C. I elect myself as presidential M.C. P*** c*** like tangerines, you shook like tambourines Then jet from the set in the all black Lamborghin' Nobody seen me, b**** in a tini red bikini N****z saw her because they thought they saw a genie Heidi Klum, p*** juicy, fat as a plum Picture on the wall in jail, n****z jerk til they c*** God gargantuan, large, colossus, bombardment of darts Make your squad, throw tantrums Practice Kamasutra on broads, pop b**s Leave birds with permanent scars and s*** like birthmarks Digi bark back at dogs, snatch flies from frogs Blow California c****** to despise the smog This s*** I been with biz in the clearing, pigs sharing Got fresh, Wu-Wearing, motherf***ers not caring Then move through your community with diplomat immunity Move to rep a two or G., shine like fine jewelry Now ask yourself is this for real? it can't be My n****, if it ain't for real, it ain't me I elect myself as presidential M.C. I elect myself as presidential M.C. Now ask yourself why is he so low key? Why is n****z pimpin' when the game chose me I elect myself as presidential M.C. I elect myself as presidential M.C. The Shadow Sword Shadow Sword
Writer(s): Robert F. Diggs, Clifford Smith, Corey Woods Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
instagramSharePathic_arrow_out