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    Method Man / Lyrics

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    "Mr. Sandman" Lyrics

    Method Man feat. Inpectah Deck and RZA

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    Intro: RZA (singing by Blue Raspberry)

    *bees buzzing*
    *man screaming in torture*

    This is... (Mr. Sandman bring me a good dream)
    Serious, the craziest
    ... d-da, (Mr. Sandman bring me a good dream) day-da
    Danger, dangerous... style

    Verse One: RZA

    Lyrical shots from the glock
    bust bullet holes on the chops, I want the number one spot
    With the science, of a giant
    New York defiant, brutal like domestic violence
    Silence of the Lambs, o-ccured when I slammed in
    Foes grab their chairs, to be mad as Ralph Cramden
    Others come with shit, as silly as Art Carney
    But my Tetley triplizes, more kids than Barney
    Never need for stress there's three bags of sess
    a damn I rest, playing chess, yes
    My thoughts be sneaky like a crook from Brooklyn
    When you ain't lookin, I take the queen, with the rook then
    I get vexed, layin phat trax on Ampex
    Morphous God, gettin drunk, off a Triple X
    Violent time, I got more love than valentines
    The violent mind, I blast with a silent nine

    Verse Two: Inspector Deck

    My hazardous thoughts to cut the mic's life support short
    Brains get stained like tablecloths when I let off
    Powerful, poetry pushed past the point of no return
    Leavin mics with third-degree burns
    Let me at 'em, I cramp your style like a spasm
    Track em through the mud then I bag em
    We're screaming hardcore, hip-hop drips out my balls
    and I be raw, for four score plus seven more
    I strike like a bowling ball, holding y'all hostage
    like hail, electrifying the third rail
    Peep the smash on paragraphs of ruckus
    Wu-Tang (Clan ain't nuttin ta fuck wit)

    Verse Three: Method Man

    Hot time, summer in the city
    My people represent, get busy
    The heat-seeker, on a mission from hell's kitchen
    I gets in where I fits in for head-touchin, listen
    Enemy, is the industry got me flippin
    I don't give a fuck tell that bitch and a nigga
    I'm killin, snipin, catchin murder cases
    Desert Storm-in, I be searchin for oasis
    As I run a mile with a racist
    Pullin, swords, hit the Billboard with a bullet
    Peace to the number seven
    Everybody else get the fo'-nine-three-eleven
    (Mr. Sandman bring me a good dream)
    I don't know what's going on
    if you can take us there...

    Verse Four: Street Thug

    Yo, watch me bang the headpiece there's no survival
    My flow lights up the block like a homicidal
    murder, underground beef for the burger
    P.L.O., criminal thoughts you never heard of
    I switch, the city never sleeps, life's a bitch
    I shit, runnin through bitches like Emmitt Smith
    Caution, niggaz best to be careful crossin
    the street, before they end up layin in a coffin
    Don't sleep, niggaz tend to forget, however
    Peep this -- my nigga Case lives forever

    Verse Five: Carlton Fisk

    What evil lurks in the heart of men?
    It be the shadow, street-life, flowin again
    I had a plot, scheme, I knew for sure
    Only one kid would knock the hinges off the door
    The jerk tried to jet, Sabrina at his neck
    Thirteen pounds on the table plus a tec
    Just when I said, "Where the fuck's the cream?"
    Another jerk came out the kitchen with the M-16
    He tried to cock it, blast these shots like, rockets
    Crushed his collarbone, ripped his arm out the socket
    My move for the table was swift, I got my hostage
    (The nigga tried to stab you God!) but I dodged it
    Niggaz said, "Carlton youse a ill motherfucker"
    Cause I made it look like they both killed each other
    And I'm out

    (Mr. Sandman bring me a good dream)
    (Mr. Sandman bring me a good dream)
    This song was submitted on October 28th, 2004 and last modified on October 18th, 2016.
    Copyright with Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group.
    Written by Clifford Smith, Jason Hunter, Robert F. Diggs.
    Lyrics licensed by LyricFind.

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