Songtexte Lalala - Method Man , Redman

Boo!
Ha!
Let's go!
Yo!

Now everybody welcome me back like I'm Carter
It's 90s ugly, I'm in the mirror like Shubba
America's most blunted, Cheecher Chong say I'm Don Dada
A bounty hunter for the sour armor
Hit your hood, I'm in pocket how I get around
I'm on my toes like a midget in a urine aisle
Whoever your connect, boy, better tell him
I'm looking for the killer, I'm tryna catch a felon

I'm looking for who's selling, Mary cooking my share of vellum
I pin and tell him my artist wore Machiavellian
By day seven see what they're smelling
It's me and Helen
You see that seven on seven C's
Call me with jelly

Go call a reverend, Mac 11 and split your melon
If that don't get him a honeydew in a split second
America's most put us both in the spoke section
With no sticks and no seeds and no exceptions

I'm like yeah you know I roll that
I'm like hey this nigga, got it
I'm like yeah and then we smoke that
Now everybody say da-da-da-da-da-da
I'm like, yeah, you know I roll out
I'm like, hey, this nigga got it, yo
Yeah, and then we smoke that
Brook City, Staten Island

Hey, punk brothers, you got the herb, the blood cuff it
You came to beef with a butter knife, then don't cut it
Just co-bust it, wild style when I co-crush it
The Giller house got a Giller lost, I'm cold-blooded
You all ready, I run with Reggie, I don't puff it
We like De Niro and Joe Pesci, but low budget
Bunch of buzzkillers, buzzbusters, they askin' how you do it
Ain't no Nike to it, I just does it

Granddaddy and I'm listenin' to Bob Marley
I tear the roof off the Porsche like it's house party
I got the new edition that green homie, it's a killer
Ralph Ricky, Mike Bobby, Ronnie and Johnny
Niggas say they got gas but it's all gas
They talking like a podcast, nigga haul ass
I never share and I don't pass the clip
'Cause that shit on his lip, got some shit on his lip

And I'm like, yeah, you know I roll that
I'm like, this nigga got it
I'm like, yeah, and then we smoke that
Now everybody say that
I'm like, yeah, you know I roll out
I'm like, this nigga got it, yo
Yeah, and then we smoked that
Brook City, Staten Island

Hey yo, look, this weed I got, bruh
I swear on my mama I can see the future
The hood said I got crystal diamonds
I'm at court in marijuana pajamas
The judge said, you smoke pot?
I'm like, yeah, your honor
I got the plug, so my homie got it on the low
'Cause I'm looking at your O's, nigga like, what are those?
I got a party in LA, if I run out of blood
I need more like Rudy Ray, nigga

Oh, in my French, I'm so international
This is Doc and Mets, Jim Fouman, Sacré-Bleu
The skunk on me, mon ami Pepe Le Pew
Call your nephew if that's how I give me effort, you
This is Vex, homie, more energized, no rest for me
No positive without negative, more or less, homie
The best bud in the West, homie, no stress, homie
Protect your neck, cause me and Brody got neck, homie

I'm like, yeah, you know I roll out
I'm like, this nigga got it, yo
I'm like, yeah, and then we smoke that
Now everybody say, da-da-da-da-da
I'm like, yeah, you know I roll that
I'm like, this nigga got it, yo
I'm like, yeah, and then we smoke that
Brook City, Staten Island