the turn lyrics – method man

(feat. raekwon)

“everywhere i turn, i see, your face…”

[intro: raekwon]
yeah, ah, yeah, yo, yo, yeah
yeah, motivate, motivate, from the gate, ya’ll
yeah, aiyo, aiyo, aiyo

and we the gods, still tear the whole hood apart
darts that’ll splatter through faces, taste n*gg*z hearts
i’m intellectual, plus professional
and walbaums to vegetables
sh*t is right here, like buyin’ fly gear
dare any white man or fan n*gg*, ran through n*gg*z
blew shotties in n*gg*z lobbies, the grand rza
we left, the radio broke, i yoke my vocals, hittin’ green smoke
allah math’, show me when the needle broke
numb the whole crowd up, stupid *ss loud fouled up
never knew what they had, now they proud of us
picture my vision, precision, lines jumpin’ out of commission
divine got me, n*gg*, the boss, he pop me
rae, we gotta generate, lord, i feel the ditech, the mildew
buy jets and vehicles, steal a little
wrap up the whole rap government

[method man]
go head, ya’ll floss wit it
walk wit, i slap your boss wit it
navy blue, new york fitted, i’m cold frost bitted
two puffs and off wit it
you smell the herb, ‘fore i lit the spots its forfeit it
blocks is hot, feel the shot from fourth/fifth it
with no regard for your boulevard, just the sh*t bag and bullet scar
it’s the riddler, riddle me this, riddle me that
who the pretender? and who the door man that let them enter?
the wu-tang, 36 cham’, what you smokin’?
got you in the game chokin’, like van gundy coachin’
your street team, bunch of weaklings
don’t ever let me catch your reachin’
respect when a grown man is speakin’
shh, keep on sleepin’, and just like tlc, i keep on “creepin”
the five percent of ya’ll, keep on teachin’
the heat seakin’, missile official, that got issues
like funk doc got snot tissue, it’s hott nikkels

“everywhere i turn, i see, your face, but you’re never there”

[method man]
shh… sh*t ain’t over..
okay, now, same sh*t, different day, grindin’, gettin’ paid
self at it, automatic, guns that spit and spray
gotta have it, *ss grab it, time to slip and weight
godbody, house your party, watch the kid n play
ya’ll gon’ make me go postal, up in this m*th*f*cka house
full of bloodsuckers and hoes that love hustlers
roll that izza, pour me another kizza
bigga, to my n*gg*, so drunk they can’t get up
shotguns through nose, hot ones through foes
let the herb spots run til the cops come, suppose
i was just another stick in the mud, on a sat*rday
thinkin’, how i’mma get the fifth in the club
see my crew thick, everyday i fights to prove it
we comes undisputed, with batteries included
honey’s “bee” like meth, i be like what?
they want some free cd’s, i’m like “see these” nuts

[outro: method man]
if ya’ll m*th*f*ckas gettin’ high tonight, say all right, haha
if ya’ll m*th*f*ckas gettin’ drunk tonight, say all right, haha
it be tical, ok, haha, yeah, yeah, ok
it be tical, ok, haha, yeah..

/ method man lyrics