Live and direct from the one-six-ooh
pow! Raekwon the Chef, Tical!
It's about to go on, Tical!
You make the call, I make the call!
Raekwon the Chef (count my shells)
And there's about to be one left
I know you know it's on kid
(Bring that shit I don't give a fuck!)
Who lit that shit it was I the chinky-eye
that they could walk a dog but they caught
'cause I'm a sandwich short
Of a picnic, 'cause you ain't
equipped with the sickening
Style, blowing up the spot like ballistic
Missiles, I be comin' through like
the four-nine-three-eleven
Tearing Tearing Tearing Tearing
up the power-you, Me-Tical
A A A bad motherfucking buddah monk,
Hit your chest, like cardiac arrest,
Out the frame, hit the pussycat for the pain
nobody move run your garments
terrible like a Champion sweat
Wrap a power in a tec, to wet
A nigga up, with all the dangerous
Sniffling sneezing coughing
Fucker, I think it's bout
Bobbin on my nob like an all day sucker
(It's my turn) Meth Vs Chef
(Yo let's bring that shit
one more time nigga) Meth Vs Chef
(Callin" me out, it's goin'
off) I blow your fuckin' ass to death
I'm goin' all out kid no turn backs
get smoked and that's that
Sixteen shots to your mug,
I go to war in a concrete jungle,
'Cause niggas act funny, and fumble
But I relax, count my shells,
Niggas stay strapped, armed to die
Time for jet-black Tim Tim boot,
hit 'em with the nine troop
No question, cha-cha-BLOW
Bloodshot in that direction, cypher
'Tack you like chess moves best move
comin' at your motherfuckin' crew
Live direct, yeah you better step
Gunshots ring on the set, let's jet
With some quick high Rae stay fly,
Now you're a slave with the