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You are about to report that the lyrics to Elements By METHOD MAN From the album Tical 2000 Judgementday as Mostly Correct, yet..., If this is what you want to do, You may fix the lyric in the boxes (populated for you) You might want to leave a comment with that too (optional) then click the submit, All fields are optional.
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Lyric Body	(feat. Star, Polite) [Method Man] (There...there?) One more game Yo, uh huh uh huh Staar Surround sounder, blunt smokin, remy downer Hip-hop sizzar slingin my raw in your flounder You get skidawed, undertakin' undergrounders This lyricist, lounge with low, that be lounger Aliens is out of townish, fuck applause niggas clap now with forty pounders, and fourty-fours Is it all, fair in love with war Young 'uns with guns, acting like they taking yours, uh Live by the sword, they gonna die by the sword, uh My vocal cords break the laws that apply to nature Low and these niggas love to hate ya Request the henney straight no chaser Twin towerin' I skyscrape ya Now gimme yours [Star] Trifled disciple, arch rival reppin with weapons that homicidal Star leaves you marked from the start like tribal scars (Allah punk) I'm hazardous as a bomb and arms spinnin' like Christ Recitin' psalms in the streets of Babylon (Verbs I gather well) ?? data shells My squad camoflauge your wealth Like the bible with parabels With the navigator, spittin razor sharp, breath laser data That'll tickle you now, but sway you later [Method Man] On this one call me Lee Major Million dollar man, bionic or proffesor chronic Still not a player, I just fuck alot the panty raider Get shortys mad, they curse you wild on your sky pager Stankin' ass [Polite] Yo Mr. Big Mouth, better duck down or bite the bullet You niggas got guns but you scared to death to pull it Bet if I pull my gun I'm gon' squeeze I'm startin at your head, son, and stoppin' at your knees I hate your screwmugs, rumble counterfeit thugs Niggas want mine, bet they come and get it in blood Fat potential, gave birth to a corrupt mental Foul thoughts paralyzin temples, it's just that simple [Chorus] [All] You better come with your best gun Niggas be holdin', it's all war no fun Niggas be bowlin', you niggas under pressure now My squads down for whatever with whoever now Let's get it on Best to come with your best gun Niggas be rollin', it's all war no fun Niggas be holdin', you niggas under pressure now My squads down for whatever with whoever now Let's get it on [Star] Arm leg shots to hit the spot like a four fifth glock We got this hip-hop shilock and all you clique got Was lip lock, heavy heat, steady street sweepin your peeps Hawks, machete chops puttin' cease to your petty fleets This raw rebel got more metal than pop And rock groups, when my glock shoots the scores settled A ground attack, I'm bound to clap rounds of rap Clowns are found flat, face down around the map Simple minds, cripple smiles, my rhymes are four five The size oh two nines combine, can't even tickle mine [Method Man] I told you once, I told your ass a thousand times, chump Body in the trunk, stay in line punk, (Fucking with your mind?) [Polite] Yo You be the actual, sixteen bars, comin' after you Never go against my team, they might embarrass you Slit-slang terrorist talk, fully armed Put your hands up, I'ma put a hole in your paws Ruin your side show, eyes low, brains fried from hydro Two choices, bass off or either die slow We all scholars when it's time to clean a dirty dollar Attack the boards, it's like a rotweiler [Method Man] Niggas comin out they shoes like they Usher These motherfuckers on the run, and they socks from The bounty hunter, Iron Lungster, rain and thunder Here come the lightning now I'm strikin' back at niggas bitin' Pushin' buttons just to step away from self-destruction Inch and a half away from touchin' somethin' Suckin' away from bustin' Yall brothers laugh now and cry later I rap from Alpha to Omega, sixty four to Sega Whoopin' that ass, walk you dogs through the lookin' glass Been burnin' MC's since cookin' class Makin' it hot like the summer in the crackspot With blacktops, my nickle slot, triple bar, hit the jackpot On each block, I'm the remedy, send them back to me After detock, shorty got knuckles in the Reebok Plus we got a problem with the Benz (What's the problem with the Benz) She want the six-hundred, but she aint got the ends [Chorus] [All] You better come with your best gun Niggas be holdin', it's all war no fun Niggas be bowlin', you niggas under pressure now My squads down for whatever with whoever now Let's get it on
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