Lyrics Box In Hand - Method Man , Streetlife , Ghostface Killah
Verse
One:
Ghostface
Killah
Yeah,
assorted
flavor
Clarks
No
doubt
The
beer
champ
Yeah,
curly
head
kid
Yo,
yo,
yo
From
Gators
to
blazers,
low
fades
and
razors
Big
dick
saloon,
I
contact
the
womb;
the
black
asian
Which
location
keeps
circulating
I
want
the
twin
power
after
day
shit
on
his
mason
A
God
steam
represent
the
gummy
with
the
green
Who
walk
fiend
stand
up
on
your
block
and
burn
a
bean
Sir
Ballentine,
lookin
at
this
bitch
walk
behind
The
thing
that's
fucked
up
appeal
us
that's
wine
They
turn
around
take
my
last
pull
off
the
L
These
niggas
on
the
block
keep
looking
at
me
well
But
they
want
the
jewel
it
ain't
hard
to
tell
I'm
recognize
his
face,
he
actin
like
Denzel
But
fuck
him,
I
went
to
check
low
for
chop
On
a
ball
gone
the
size
like
faith
up
top
Now
it's
a
whole
new
ball
game,
strategic
mind
frame
My
dialogue's
rebellious
raid
and
razor
fame
Glass
out
a
red
light,
see
Killah
get
on
a
ninja
bike
Show
my
love
to
the
God
he
peeled
out
and
made
a
right
**Sound
of
speeding
motorcycle**
Chorus:
When
you
walking
down
the
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
the
dancing
and
your
- hands
start
the
clapping
Verse
Two:
Street
Street's
running
through
your
dancehall
gunning
Like
Lee
Harvey
Oswald
stunning
slapping
MC's
with
summons
For
pumping
- that
watered
down
substance
Beef
there's
slugs
finger
creeping
Making
moves
like
Crying
Freeman
Prince
of
thieves,
earth's
third
seed
Heavyweight
like
golden
fleeces
homicides
stroll
the
street
If
Luther
preached
it,
look
at
the
thugs
holding
heat
In
the
city
beef
got
me
plotting
trilogy
To
the
smoke
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
fifty
where
the
razorblades
swiftly
Shaolin
cats
be
shiesty,
strictly
Drunk
off
the
Irish
whiskey
Chorus
Verse
Three:
Method
Man
Rest
your
headpiece
on
this
one
sun
Cough
up
a
lung
Sleeping
on
my
murderous
type
ones
I
get
you
done
I'm
looking
at
these
cuthroat
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
I'm
looking
in
the
half
of
right
and
roll
tight
Fool
me
once
but
can't
fool
me
twice,
I'm
25
To
life
on
this
mic
device
ain't
nothing
nice
A
mixture
of
long
wild
rice
and
no
spice
Inflicted,
rap
addicted,
track
I
stick
it,
flip
it
Daddy
long
dick-ed,
slide
A
little
bit
beyond
twisted,
mind
in
stitches
You
thought
weak
but
meant
wicked
Niggas
choke
off
my
second
hand
smoke
lifted
Everyday
is
like
my
birthday
I'm
mad
gifted,
dead
calm
Hit
me
with
the
eighteen
bronze,
buddah
palm
About
to
blow
like
Napalm,
before
your
arm
Prepare
for
the
warfare,
or
buy
a
share
Oh
what
the
fuck
we
dealing
with,
yeah
Johnny
about
to
go
there
Need
another
year
Bust
a
shot
for
my
sons
that
didn't
make
it
here
Chorus
Album
Ironman
1 Assassination Day
2 Wildflower
3 The Faster Blade
4 260
5 Poisonous Darts
6 Assassination Day
7 Box In Hand
8 Poisonous Darts
9 Winter Warz
10 Winter Warz
11 Motherless Child
12 Box in Hand
13 After The Smoke Is Clear
14 All That I Got Is You
15 Daytona 500
16 Daytona 500
17 Marvel
18 Black Jesús
19 Black Jesus
20 After the Smoke Is Clear
21 All That I Got Is You
22 Marvel
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