Upcoming Concerts for Raekwon, Ghostface Killah & Method Man

Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
Raekwon
Raekwon
Lead Vocals
Ghostface Killah
Ghostface Killah
Lead Vocals
Method Man
Method Man
Lead Vocals
Swizz Beatz
Swizz Beatz
Programming
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
C. Woods
C. Woods
Songwriter
D. Coles
D. Coles
Songwriter
C. Smith
C. Smith
Songwriter
Kasseem Dean
Kasseem Dean
Songwriter
W. Malone
W. Malone
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Swizz Beatz
Swizz Beatz
Producer
Taz Green
Taz Green
Recording Engineer
Ray Scavo
Ray Scavo
Recording Engineer
Mark B. Christensen
Mark B. Christensen
Mastering Engineer

Lyrics

[Intro]
Uh-huh
Talk, talk to me, talk to me
This a serious one right here
Uh
It is real real
Staten Island Boys is back
Goddamn
New York, New York
What the fuck is y'all talking about?
Kneel, ****, kneel, when you see us
Let's go
[Verse 1]
Glass of gin for my jewelers, too many Rugers
Jim's is 500 bands, fam, I swam through Bermuda
Switchers got muzzlers, soon as rebuttals happen
We guzzled and everything gets twisted like a puzzle
Cyber trucks fly out, that the luxe, no doubt
News cameras seize the moment, that's alligator tux
I'm comfortable, said it two more times, you's a duck
Remove yourself quickly, might flip you in the clubs
Eight hundred troopers, they all in coupers
Doofy shotguns and gooses, ice rocking boosters
Bitches call me Moosa, mansa, you're ruthless
Wow, he got so handsome, his cutie know his future
That's fuchsia, flexing in this spectre with Medusa
Versace jean jacket, interior is blue-ca, no hookah
Only big bags eating grouper
You scavengers, run and tell your managers the Wu coming
[Verse 2]
Aye yo, bandanas, mad scanners
Chains swingin', post sayin' plug click
**** do damage, plus
**** gotten semi-autos when we out in Yemen
Buried all over the desert, baby, Mac-11s
Clap reverends, grab a big bag on the crap seven
Past, present, I'd be G-O-A-T till I crash Heaven
Monstrous bankrolls, Modelos and pesos
I send a few of you back to the essence, then have a great show
My wrist game call it gold caviar
Shootouts on the burgundy swing with gold handle bars
Clarks on, flying through the Autobahn
An old deuce flick, been placid inside of Audemar
Catch a photo from the side like Hitchcock
The commas on the side of my neck is all big rocks
When I'm holdin', nothin' moving, all gridlock
Yo, Wake, I might show up for Dolo with a big Glock
[Verse 3]
I've been official, but y'all don't think it's beneficial
Because my bottom line don't benefit you
The mission was a missile and fitness sent you a missile
That's finna hit your fitted, that chronic fittin' fit you
Trippin', I'm fittin' to trip you, short vacation, I trip you
It's simple, and I go triple for anybody that's with you
And people know you ready, y'all ready know it's an issue
You found out it's official, them people blowin' them whistles
A ref's not a reference when people goin' against you
Your press is not impressive, them people pressin' to bench you
After I meant to, this method is not medicinal
In fact, I'm earth and waterin', air and fire, I'm elemental
That's right, I said it, now give me credit with my credentials
An instrumental with fear of god for my essential
You get it? Plus a New York fitted to guard the temple
Them tracks you bumpin', I come with something that'll pop your pimple
Guessin' I'm Proactiv, too prolific for all you pro-rappers
Who can't find an angle on a protractor
They non-factors, haters, just advocators
These boys might take a shot and don't even chase up the capture
Tell Peter pay up, it's vital that Peter pay us
In order to get my cake up, Anita Baker for rapture
Written by: C. Smith, C. Woods, D. Coles, Kasseem Dean, W. Malone
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