Box In Hand

[Intro: Ghostface Killah]

Yeah, assorted flavor Clarks

No doubt, it be the champ

Yeah, curly head kid

Yo, yo, yo

[Verse 1: Ghostface Killah]

From Gators to blazers, low fades and razors

Big dick saloon, I contact the womb

The Black Asian wrist location keeps circulating

My wonder twin power activate shit on this nation

Allah seen represent the gumby wintergreen

Who walk mean stand up on your block and burn a bean

Sip Ballantyne looking at that bitch wide behind

The thing that's fucking up her grill is that swine

Then turn around take my last pull off the L

These niggas up the block keep looking at me well

But they want the jewel, It Ain't Hard to Tell

I recognize a face, he acting like Denzel

Fuck him, I want to check Mo for a chop

Brought him bald on the sides, light fade, rough top

Now it's a whole new ball game, strategic mind frame

My dialogue's rebellious rain and reign supreme

Glanced at a red light, seen Killa on a ninja bike

Show my love to the god, he peeled out and made a right

{*Sound of speeding motorcycle*}

[Chorus: Method Man]

When you walking down your street with your box in your hand

And you bringing the music of the Wu-Tang Clan

And you hear Ironman on your radio, rapping

Your feet start to dancing and your hands start the clapping

[Verse 2: Streetlife]

Street's running through your dance hall gunning

Like Lee Harvey Oswald stunning slapping MCs with summons

For pumping that watered down substance, peep this

Slugs finger creeping, making moves like Crying Freeman

Prince of Thieves, Earth third seed

Heavyweight like Golden Fleece as homicide stroll the streets

In blue Caprice and looking for thugs holding heat

Inner city beef got me plotting trilogy

To dispose enemies sneak attacks, I'm beyond and above that

Seen that, done that–respect, black

I catch a slug to your hardhat, lounging in the Everglades

Surfing the airwave, catch a Buck-50

With the razor blade swiftly, Shaolin cats be shiesty

Strictly drunk off the Irish whiskey

[Chorus: Method Man]

When you walking down your street with your box in your hand

And you bringing the music of the Wu-Tang Clan

And you hear Ironman on your radio, rapping

Your feet start to dancing and your hands start the clapping

[Verse 3: Method Man]

Rest your headpiece on this one son, cough up a lung

Sleeping on my murderous type ones'lI get you done

I'm looking at these cutthroat kids and how they live

It's like we was partners in spades and you renege

Can't fuck with no nigga like that, he get me jack

Or sent back, meaning whole life fade to black

Whole 7 and a half, up right and roll tight

Fool me once but can't fool me twice, I'm 25

To life on this mic device I'm nothing nice

A mixture of long wild rice and Old Spice

Inflicted, rap addicted, track I stick it

Flip it, daddy long dick it, slide

A little bit beyond twisted, mind in stitches

You thought weak but meant wicked

Niggas choke off my secondhand smoke, lifted

Everyday is like my birthday I'm mad gifted, dead calm

Hit me with the 18 Bronze/Buddha Palm

About to blow like Napalm, go for your arm

Prepare for the warfare or buy a share

Of what the fuck we dealing with, yeah

Johnny 'bout to go there, need another year

Bust a shot for my sons that didn't make it here

[Chorus: Method Man]

When you walking down your street with your box in your hand

And you bringing the music of the Wu-Tang Clan

And you hear Ironman on your radio, rapping

Your feet start to dancing and your hands start the clapping

When you walking down your street with your box in your hand

And you bringing the music of the Wu-Tang Clan

And you hear Ironman on your radio, rapping

Your feet start to dancing and your hands start the clapping

When you walk