The Turn - Method Man, Raekwon

Yeah, ah, yeah, yo, yo, yeah

Yeah, motivate, motivate, from the gate, ya’ll

Yeah, aiyo, aiyo, aiyo

Yo, we the Gods, still tear the whole hood apart

Darts that’ll splatter through faces, taste niggas hearts

I’m intellectual, plus professional

And Walbaums to vegetables

Shit is right here, like buyin' fly gear

Dare any white man or fan nigga, ran through niggas

Blew shotties in niggas 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 ass 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, nigga, 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

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’ll smell the herb 'fore I lit it, the spots is forfeited

Blocks is hot, feel the shot from the fo'-fitty

With no regard for your boulevard, just the shit 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 reaching

Respect when a grown man is speaking

Shh, keep on sleeping, and just like TLC, I keep on Creeping

To five percent of ya’ll, keep on teachin'

The heat seeking missile official, that got issue

Like Funk Doc got snot tissue, it’s Hott Nikkels

«Everywhere I turn, I see, your face, but you’re never there»

Shh… shit ain’t over.

Okay, now, same shit, different day, grinding, gettin' paid

Self at it, automatic, guns that spit and spray

Gotta have it, ass 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 muthafucka

House full of bloodsuckas and hoes that love hustlers

Roll that izza, pour me another kizza

Bigga, to my nigga, 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 Saturday thinkin', how I’ma 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 CDs, I’m like «see these» nuts

If ya’ll muthafuckas gettin' high tonight, say all right, haha

If ya’ll muthafuckas gettin' drunk tonight, say all right, haha

It be Tical, ok, haha, yeah, yeah, ok

It be Tical, ok, haha, yeah.