Music Video

Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
Method Man
Method Man
Performer
Redman
Redman
Performer
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
K. Wailoo
K. Wailoo
Composer
Casey James
Casey James
Composer
Paolo NoiseLeRoy Bell
Paolo NoiseLeRoy Bell
Composer
Thomas Bell
Thomas Bell
Composer
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Pete Rock
Pete Rock
Producer
Reggie Noble
Reggie Noble
Recording Engineer
Gimel Keaton
Gimel Keaton
Mixing Engineer

Lyrics

Check it out, yo I be like, "Yiggy, yes, y'all", doctor on call I'll rock 'til my name in graffiti on the wall Got flow like the rappers in Great George Got weed? I got blunt, my name Jamal I pause, flick the ash from my L I pause like Run and Jason Mizell The MC is me, host for the night Papa Doc, only thing I don't choke on the mic I choke a bitch out if my gwap ain't correct Then with my giant Hancock, I'll get the cheque I love trucks but drop-tops is the best From the Beemers, Benz, now Rolex, watch me She like, "Red so cool" Any nigga after me, it's a deja vu Doc stay in the paint like A.I. shoes Just watch how a one tonner made a move, dig it Hop in my truck and roll up the window A-yo, you know what you in for Once we turn the corner, light up the endo A-yo, a-yo, a-yo Yes, she with me gettin' low like a limbo Roll with Gs, I'ma show you how to get dough Third degree, let it burn with my kinfolk A-yo, a-yo, a-yo Who these corner store rappers slingin' cracks in my hall? Mama's in the kitchen cookin' cat, rat and dog Me, I want a little somethin', y'all could have it all I tryna walk before I crawl and move this package in my draw That's why I push the pedal to the motherfuckin' floor With ten per cent method, don't you flush off the poor And still I keep it funky like four plus one more Get this money like, "In God we trust", trust your boy It's a given, livin' this life like it was written Especially for me, I'm what the recipe is missin' Blow my piff in the air, key the ignition Then get to lane switchin', pluckin' ashes off the clip and Mammy wanna ride and play the Bonnie to my Clyde If anybody try to 'Kill Bill', it'll probably be the bride Like all jokes aside, I'm serious with mine And now I'm on this grind like Method Man in his prime Hop in my truck and roll up the window A-yo, you know what you in for Once we turn the corner, light up the endo A-yo, a-yo, a-yo Yes, she with me gettin' low like a limbo Roll with Gs, I'ma show you how to get dough Third degree, let it burn with my kinfolk A-yo, a-yo, a-yo Yo, I got my swagger on and I feel great Funk Doc be in the hood like Enfamil cases I network on MySpace real late Hopin' my album make me another Bill Gates Around my crib, look how I live I'm a slob but Crip niggas say I get biz Anywhere I did a show women sayin' That I'm so amazin' Yeah, another mic, another night and the day's end Another heist, another kite in the state pen My state business, shit, y'all dudes just break wind New York nigga, either you're made mice or made men I do the dirt that keep my hand on the work I got the other hand up Mona Lisa's skirt My aim was since day one's dock How many shots will it take to make son drop? Hop in my truck and roll up the window A-yo, you know what you in for Once we turn the corner, light up the endo A-yo, a-yo, a-yo Yes, she with me gettin' low like a limbo Roll with Gs, I'ma show you how to get dough Third degree, let it burn with my kinfolk A-yo, a-yo, a-yo Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey
Writer(s): Peter O. Phillips, Clifford Smith, Thomas Randolph Bell, Reggie Noble, Casey James, Leroy M. Bell, Karl Amani Wailoo, Jack Robinson Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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