Suspect Chin Music

[Intro] Suspect chin niggas, no win niggas Engineer that (Sick ass size seven) Adjust the treble on my thing-thing (Radarukus) [?] (Mook killer death track) Engineer that (We're back) (Heavy artillery, word) (Streetlife delivery Streetlife, yo) Yo, yo, yoyo [Verse 1: Method Man & Streetlife] Suspect chin niggas, no win niggas Send niggas back to go, try again niggas All hail me, the Good, the Bad, the Ugly The money's around your way, lovely Where for art thou Meth-Tical god-child I pack a smile like crocodile profile Can't hold it down? Oh the shit gon' hit the fan now Spin around let your gold crown man down, man down I live by the street code, never owe, never love a hoe Never flash the dough 'cause you never know who's friend or foe Got block control, solid gold thoughts control the globe Finish stroll through the ghetto, habitats with no parole Never snitch switch which, keep a fresh pair of kicks Split the tongue, snatch the weed in case the cops wanna strip search Think first prepare for the worst when you do dirt Remember there's a million hungry niggas with the same thirst No doubt dummy out, bets pull the money out Niggas walk a funny route, this is what it's all about? Young guns and dum-dums, lum bums and sons Askin' niggas where they come from, get him for his ones, um Sunshine, it's crunch time, stranded on the front line Ducking from the one-time Niggas on the run where the cameras can't come, fine Make this one the anthem Ring around the rosie, pocket full of Branson [Bridge 1: Streetlife] Just because you wild in the club, you ain't thug Sport gloves and gold mugs, you ain't thug Tattoos and hard screws don't make you thug Sucker for love catch a slug, nigga [Chorus: Method Man] Suspect chin niggas, no win niggas Send niggas back to go, try again niggas Shotgun slammin' in your chest piece, blaow! Shotgun slammin' in your chest piece, blaow! [Verse 2: Streetlife & Method Man] Carry a ox and avoid spots Cell blocks rap blow you for your slot time, what you got's mines We can take it to the yellow lines and we can pull nine Whether the rhyme or the crime I'ma still shine Heavy on the street talk, cut your life support short Never had no love for you so it ain't no love lost Strictly enforced by a street source, get double-crossed Hands off, I run with the torch They got me fed up from the head up, put up or shut up On stage in them shiny get-ups? niggas is funny Energizer bunny actors, they hustle backwards Son, I think they gay rappers, say word Drops will slash ya, darts splash ya, party crasher The spell caster, heard the same before and after It's over, slug hit your brain, end of game Dun, its over, end of the line, out of time, bitch its over On the wrong street with no heat, hmm, it's over We soldiers, somebody should've (Told ya) [Bridge 2: Streetlife] Million dollar ice on your wrist don't make you thug 'Cause a bitch is suckin' your dick on your skit you ain't thug Bandanas and bad grammar don't make you thug Sucker for love, catch a slug, nigga [Chorus: Method Man] Suspect chin niggas, no win niggas Send niggas back to go, try again niggas Shotgun slammin' in your chest piece, blaow Shotgun slammin' in your chest piece, blaow Suspect chin niggas, no win niggas Send niggas back to go, try again niggas Shotgun slammin' in your chest piece, blaow Shotgun slammin' in your chest piece, blaow [Verse 3: Streetlife & Method Man] With the W burning through your flesh, verbally possessed Never second-guess, blow minds like David Koresh Fuck a vest, you need a gun to protect your assets Deep in the Aztecs, break out before the sun set Street wars, gimme yours, crime is what I live for Got rhymes galore, next time it's at the Wu store If you sleep late, next date is at the cest gate All you sober MCs, I leave y'all niggas half-baked Microphone is in a choke hold Losin' control, bringing drama by the boatload It takes drama In the pillage now of Cappadonna My split persona hit their village and their baby mama Y'all niggas playing with this money while we stayed hungry And kept it pudgy it won't make me have to crash, dummy Before its over You should keep your chain tucked in And should never run your mouth with a suspect chin Now lay it down [Bridge 1: Streetlife] Just because you wild in the club you ain't thug Sports gloves and gold mugs you ain't thug Tattoos and hard screws don't make you thug Real thugs runnin' with hate, and smash love