Da Ill Out Lyrics - Redman

(Erick Sermon) 

Yo Reggie, I'mout 

(Jamal) 

T-ree F Squad 

Muddy Waters 

Don't get it twisted... nigga 

(Redman) 

Aiyyo everybody in this motherfucker will get touched 

Fuck such and such, I roll tight like handcuffs 

Rock that ass to sleep with discrete techniques 

I beez that, freak of the week like I made Knee Deep 

Hold up! Rotate around the solar, badder than Cobra 

Composure never sleeps, my stream pumps Folgers 

I'm sauteein MC's with fried rice up in the wok 

without the MSG and chopped celery 

See, I made it, my flavor situated 

from the nickel plated mic that's hot, to leave your brain inflated 

Plus, I'm thick like Quakers on papers 

Bodacious MC's get turned to lower cases 

lettering, and the medicine, that I'm swallowin 

Get you hollerin, like Marvin Gaye when his father shot him 

in the chest, I roll with two stacks of Tecs 

And mad niggaz and sess that I roll up in your rest 

UHH! Mister Fantastic's crafted, with no 52nd ass kick 

When I'm blasted, my Method magics get drastic 

That you can't see with bifocals 

Watchin MC's go up and down like stock brokers 

I leave your brains on tilt, with ill skills that's milk 

That's rougher than jeans that Gloria Vander-bilt 

I'm poppin mad shit, plus I can back it 

Your man'll be like "Yo, get that dust off yo' jacket" 

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(Keith Murray) 

It ain't a test or quiz that my Squad can't win 

Those who know the biz, know we wreck kids get biz 

Y'all digest, multiple stab wounds to the chest 

And I copycat kill the rest, with no Method to my madness 

Plus the apparatus with the baddest 

Determined to be the last man, standin on the planet 

Y'all get attached, like a blood-suckin leech 

When you fall into my rhythm of speech 

Your hands get embraced with a touch of the bass 

Head get wrapped up neck get thrown in a neck brace 

Rough rhyme mechanical, lyrical at it who? 

Will ironically chronically murder you and your crew 

My directive, through where I live, is kinda primitive 

See I get to the bottom of the problem, and make shit give 

Step in the jam, hooded and high, plastered the master 

cast to the masses grabs the mic 

Ten dollar rappers, is what L.O.D. goes after 

To my Squad, there's no matches, we bashes 

Do photo flashes on all flavor S-classes 

Bomb attack on wax, lyrical mini mac to your back 

Tie you up, throw you in the act 

A public figure, who walks around with a gin of jigger 

Cause I gives a fuck about another nigga, word up 

Photos 

(Jamal) 

Muddy Waters, yo this is the way that my intro should go 

Drunk slow funk flow for Reggie Noble 

Fuck with me doe, Mally G doe it's not logic 

Playin that big shit get broke down microscopic 

Freak it back keep the track ringin, with the bassline 

It's major when you savor my flavor, can you taste mine 

Face the nine I lace your spine with short fat pace 

Around and round, avoidin the time to put it down 

Now's the time here yeah 

(Erick Sermon) 

Clown where, pick a spot 

Neutral grounds or not, we give a fuck, lick a shot 

(Jamal) 

Gangsta, so called killin, cap peelin 

Playalistic, I mean is all that shit realistic 

Play your cards God, black keep your hand held tight 

Night fall might call your life, shit is trife 

on these evil streets after dark 

Niggaz gettin sparked left and outlined in chalk 

New day, this whole shit's twisted (is it man) 

It's me bombin on these niggaz shitlist and Mally G 

open your eyes to see, recognize who be a G 

Hopin to ride in the, industry with E 

The villain's had it cause ahead (word up yeah) 

Killin my psychosomatic pattern mad (yeah) 

(Erick Sermon) 

Y'all know, uhh, yeah, Muddy Waters 

We out for nine-seven, word up, peace