Men of Respect - Mathematics, Mathematics featuring Raekwon, Eyes Low, Bad Luck, Method Man, Cappadonna

Back with another one, this hip hop shit ain’t over

The Wu brought it back I told you

Chef shit is hard

The hip hop critics is dick heads, they’d rather see Shallah in the yard

Writing rhymes that’s soft as cotton

We can never ever see that, the nigga flow grows is poppin'

First verse I’ll be ready to get clowns

Catch 'em in hallways, the worst look get laid down

And yo, I rhyme for shooters and boosters

Get money churchmen, all those respect my Wu shit

Regardless if you see me on TV

In 3D and HD, I’mma stay safe in Rae beats

This time I’m a bastard swordsman

Who put in that work, real quick then I’m repping to Boston

Don’t try to get in my way

Any rapper any herb I’mma blow you like herbs and lick

Fuck a cell phone plan, with a ring I get a hundred dollars

Five dubs in a whip on my way to holler

Yeah I do credits, but not the ones you get in college

My niggas can’t afford Benzes, so we rip impalas

Tints on the windows, lookin' like the Ds

Got the dope boys nervous when they see me in the street

Fuck the hollering on wax, you can see me if it’s beef

Hollywood will load the gat and put the BBs in his fleece

I’m a preacher with the piece

I used to sell X on the west coast, now I get it cheaper on the east

I’ve been around the world like Lisa Stansbury

TV with the goosenecks, goosenecks to the cranberry

Got the Clan ready with the 10 Chevy, keep my grams heavy

Slap a bitch ass, doggy style, like my hand’s heavy

G up in my swag, tough talk’ll get your man buried

Blow the last dragon, part two, nigga, fists of fury

I could care less if you’re well know shooters

100 guns, 100 clips, but you still can’t move

It’s been a while since you heard a nice nigga from BK

Representin' the village, known for lettin' this heat spray

First grip we flipped took like a weekend, 3 days

Whole team runnin' 'round the Ps with AKs

9 different types of drugs, slipping 'em 5 ways

Gettin' rid of a brick in less than five days

I pop your head off, leave your brains on the sidewalk

My 40 cal, a rearrange to your sidetalk?

Where I go, my team, they gonna follow

Top Model hoes, with no game, they gonna swallow

Got a lotta foes, that’s why my aim be on hollow

Die before I let you violate, nigga, live by the motto

Pimpin' through lanes, poppin' the clutch, hittin' the throttle

At this rate, I’m gonna miss it, I might not witness tomorrow

You say you gangsta?

Yeah I’m a gangsta

You pop that thang?

yeah I pop that thang

Your clip on empty?

My clip on empty

Your clique gon bang?

Yeah my clique gon bang

Look, I hit a weed spot

Bypass niggas with broke guns and cheap shots

Outlastin' niggas with no punch, y’all eat cock

Get too cocky, the heat cock

You wanna walk a mile in my shoes, you need socks

You need not call out a G, cause he’s not

They playin' with a pussy, I’ma show 'em the G spot

This dude’s a Meth-head, I’ll show him the detox

Look at Johnny with his old ass

I’m still schoolin' the whole class

The kids in the hall, you get no pass

Ice hit the eye like a cold flash

Niggas hopin' I don’t spaz

Speak for the have-nots and don’t-haves

Fuck it, I’m thorough nigga, fuck their worlds

Meth clutch the mic, bitch niggas clutch their pearls

Tonight, I ain’t feelin' no ice stares

If you want it, I’m right here, Staten Island and we don’t fight fair

As a young lil' homie, I used to sell crack

I used to run in the front of the building and come out the back

Lil homie on the block with the fly ass gear

Me and my crew used to shop around Union Square

Ay yo, I never knew I would become an MC

Now everybody on the block be amazed at me

Because I rock the mic most definitely

Throw darts and I get fly on you, you know my steez

Buy 25 high?, yo, I stay low key

And if I have to pop something, yo, it’s not my fault

I ain’t tell y’all niggas try to crack my vault

I’m the new terrorist rapper, the main assault

You?

on your back, elbow a nigga thought

Through Wu-Tang lyrical kung-fu

Death when you enter, all my nigga will hunt you

Peace to the gods

One, two, one, two

Million dollar voice box

It’s your choice, Ox

The face Ox cut off

Like tank tops

My motivation is money and mass murdering

While you still provin' you nice in rap tournaments

I be all smooth with the ice and mad burners

And plottin' on takin' your life

Look how I lure them in

Get drunk, smoke ashes up out the urn again

Axe murderin' journalist for the words they writ

Mathematics crafted the beat, called Term to spit

Cause I set fire to shit like a furnace lit

I pack German clips, stash box in the whip

Four door Optimus Prime, Transformer shit

Call the coroner, caskets for half price

Bodies in the trunk, movin' through the Mass Pike

It’s all now, cause in Law town

We roll with premature babies

We carry four pounds