"Elements"
(feat. Star, Polite)
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

Lyrics to / for Elements by Method Man.
More songs and lyrics from Method Man on the album Tical 2000 Judgementday.
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