Dangerous Grounds Lyrics
| Song | Dangerous Grounds |
| Artist | Method Man |
| Album | Tical 2000: Judgement Day |
| Download | Image LRC TXT |
| 作曲 : Patrick Charles & Derrick Harris & Method Man | |
| 作词 : Charles, Harris, Smith | |
| Yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah | |
| Yo yo yo yo yo yo yo | |
| All them real live motherfuckin' niggaz step up front right now | |
| It's goin' down | |
| One love to | |
| Long Island | |
| Hempstead in my heart baby | |
| Shaolin what? | |
| Come on, come on, ha | |
| Dangerous ground | |
| Tre pound seven spin around for my bredren the cloud come down | |
| War and peace, | |
| I take it to the street | |
| Land shark on my lawn chop the thumbs off a thief | |
| And curse his first born, is this thing on? | |
| Send 'em to the children of the corn, we the people | |
| See, niggaz through the eye of the demon | |
| My lethal injection, destroyin' evil | |
| Hot Nikkel, private eye one pistol | |
| Aimin' at your brain tissue, do or die | |
| Said the spider to the fly, "Could this one be tasty?" | |
| Like momma apple pie goodness, | |
| Johnny Blaze me | |
| On the job like | |
| Dick Tracy | |
| Hit the cure for that ill shit like | |
| Ben Casey, | |
| M.D.Symbolic thrill like | |
| God he shocked it | |
| Like a finger in a light socket, too good to be forgotten | |
| In the rotten apple | |
| I kick dirt on your sand castle | |
| Check the flavor all natural | |
| Beat your feet | |
| Hot Nikk's son | |
| Heat-mizer | |
| Before you get the main course | |
| Taste a appetizer | |
| Submerged in the word | |
| Heavy headed verbal that smack you | |
| Mentally disturb you, attack you | |
| Thirty six chamb' once again comin' at you | |
| Young gun got the body snatch you observe | |
| Wise words you can only see through the third | |
| I fall way beyond the norm on the verb | |
| Shine on mental nourishment, you can dine on | |
| Track yellin' at me get yo arrow god | |
| Victory is hard, regardless to whom or what | |
| They all movin' targets | |
| AllahRunnin' through your house and your block party, with rap shotty | |
| And hot rock the body body, | |
| St. Bernards | |
| Couldn't save your entourage, rap lobotomy | |
| Leave ya mentally scarred, numb and possibly | |
| Dumb deaf and blind is it | |
| I kick the spine out the battery backs | |
| Fuckin' with mine keep it movin' | |
| Now everybody just throw your hands in the | |
| What the fuck, fuck? | |
| Peace, who this? | |
| Mind detect mind, | |
| I P.L.O. your startin' line | |
| Deep Space | |
| NineDesigned for knuckleheads who bust guns and throw signs | |
| Let's converse snatch the tap from your purse | |
| Body-surf on the verse head first | |
| Peep defeat, bitch | |
| Street beat you down with the heat | |
| And you spazzed out spittin' out teeth ain't nuttin' peace | |
| Big boys don't destroy blunted zone pop steroid50 men convoy, expensive where's the big toy | |
| Rumble through the wasteland right hand's on the silencer40 caliber city slicker | |
| Staten Islander | |
| Synchronized minds combine thoughts that motivate | |
| Don't perpetrate pass the blunt let it circulate | |
| Street politicians on a suicide mission | |
| Crime vision finger itchin' from a scope view position | |
| Dangerous ground | |
| Tre' pound seven spin around for my bredren the cloud comes down | |
| Keep your eyes open | |
| Love potion number nine poetry in motion | |
| Knowledge me the seventh sign | |
| Scopin', connivin', infiltrate is most of mine | |
| Play 'em nonchalantly, calmly expose the nine | |
| Push and get shoved' what the fuck | |
| Gods' thinkin' of | |
| Comin' in the club wit that screwface, actin' up | |
| Is we men or mice, bad moon risin' we wild for the night | |
| Kill a skitzofrenic nigga twice 'cuz o | |
| That's what happened when frontin' on the | |
| Shaol' borough | |
| Island of | |
| Staten we in here no fear | |
| Assault wit intent | |
| To kill your whole regiment it's real | |
| Startin' wit yo president, duckin' my dart gun | |
| Tear apart son you don't want it then don't start none | |
| Blaze one with | |
| Jonathon, part man part fly | |
| Handle my | |
| B I camouflage like | |
| G.I.Fat like | |
| Joe, a day in the life | |
| Your money or your life that's the life | |
| Everybody can't afford ice in the struggle | |
| Tryin' to eat right another day another hustle hustle hustle | |
| Dangerous ground | |
| Tre' pound seven spin around for my bredren the clouds come down | |
| War and peace, | |
| I take it to the street | |
| Land shark on my lawn chop the thumbs off a thief | |
| Motherfucker |
| zuo qu : Patrick Charles Derrick Harris Method Man | |
| zuo ci : Charles, Harris, Smith | |
| Yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah | |
| Yo yo yo yo yo yo yo | |
| All them real live motherfuckin' niggaz step up front right now | |
| It' s goin' down | |
| One love to | |
| Long Island | |
| Hempstead in my heart baby | |
| Shaolin what? | |
| Come on, come on, ha | |
| Dangerous ground | |
| Tre pound seven spin around for my bredren the cloud come down | |
| War and peace, | |
| I take it to the street | |
| Land shark on my lawn chop the thumbs off a thief | |
| And curse his first born, is this thing on? | |
| Send ' em to the children of the corn, we the people | |
| See, niggaz through the eye of the demon | |
| My lethal injection, destroyin' evil | |
| Hot Nikkel, private eye one pistol | |
| Aimin' at your brain tissue, do or die | |
| Said the spider to the fly, " Could this one be tasty?" | |
| Like momma apple pie goodness, | |
| Johnny Blaze me | |
| On the job like | |
| Dick Tracy | |
| Hit the cure for that ill shit like | |
| Ben Casey, | |
| M. D. Symbolic thrill like | |
| God he shocked it | |
| Like a finger in a light socket, too good to be forgotten | |
| In the rotten apple | |
| I kick dirt on your sand castle | |
| Check the flavor all natural | |
| Beat your feet | |
| Hot Nikk' s son | |
| Heatmizer | |
| Before you get the main course | |
| Taste a appetizer | |
| Submerged in the word | |
| Heavy headed verbal that smack you | |
| Mentally disturb you, attack you | |
| Thirty six chamb' once again comin' at you | |
| Young gun got the body snatch you observe | |
| Wise words you can only see through the third | |
| I fall way beyond the norm on the verb | |
| Shine on mental nourishment, you can dine on | |
| Track yellin' at me get yo arrow god | |
| Victory is hard, regardless to whom or what | |
| They all movin' targets | |
| AllahRunnin' through your house and your block party, with rap shotty | |
| And hot rock the body body, | |
| St. Bernards | |
| Couldn' t save your entourage, rap lobotomy | |
| Leave ya mentally scarred, numb and possibly | |
| Dumb deaf and blind is it | |
| I kick the spine out the battery backs | |
| Fuckin' with mine keep it movin' | |
| Now everybody just throw your hands in the | |
| What the fuck, fuck? | |
| Peace, who this? | |
| Mind detect mind, | |
| I P. L. O. your startin' line | |
| Deep Space | |
| NineDesigned for knuckleheads who bust guns and throw signs | |
| Let' s converse snatch the tap from your purse | |
| Bodysurf on the verse head first | |
| Peep defeat, bitch | |
| Street beat you down with the heat | |
| And you spazzed out spittin' out teeth ain' t nuttin' peace | |
| Big boys don' t destroy blunted zone pop steroid50 men convoy, expensive where' s the big toy | |
| Rumble through the wasteland right hand' s on the silencer40 caliber city slicker | |
| Staten Islander | |
| Synchronized minds combine thoughts that motivate | |
| Don' t perpetrate pass the blunt let it circulate | |
| Street politicians on a suicide mission | |
| Crime vision finger itchin' from a scope view position | |
| Dangerous ground | |
| Tre' pound seven spin around for my bredren the cloud comes down | |
| Keep your eyes open | |
| Love potion number nine poetry in motion | |
| Knowledge me the seventh sign | |
| Scopin', connivin', infiltrate is most of mine | |
| Play ' em nonchalantly, calmly expose the nine | |
| Push and get shoved' what the fuck | |
| Gods' thinkin' of | |
| Comin' in the club wit that screwface, actin' up | |
| Is we men or mice, bad moon risin' we wild for the night | |
| Kill a skitzofrenic nigga twice ' cuz o | |
| That' s what happened when frontin' on the | |
| Shaol' borough | |
| Island of | |
| Staten we in here no fear | |
| Assault wit intent | |
| To kill your whole regiment it' s real | |
| Startin' wit yo president, duckin' my dart gun | |
| Tear apart son you don' t want it then don' t start none | |
| Blaze one with | |
| Jonathon, part man part fly | |
| Handle my | |
| B I camouflage like | |
| G. I. Fat like | |
| Joe, a day in the life | |
| Your money or your life that' s the life | |
| Everybody can' t afford ice in the struggle | |
| Tryin' to eat right another day another hustle hustle hustle | |
| Dangerous ground | |
| Tre' pound seven spin around for my bredren the clouds come down | |
| War and peace, | |
| I take it to the street | |
| Land shark on my lawn chop the thumbs off a thief | |
| Motherfucker |
| zuò qǔ : Patrick Charles Derrick Harris Method Man | |
| zuò cí : Charles, Harris, Smith | |
| Yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah | |
| Yo yo yo yo yo yo yo | |
| All them real live motherfuckin' niggaz step up front right now | |
| It' s goin' down | |
| One love to | |
| Long Island | |
| Hempstead in my heart baby | |
| Shaolin what? | |
| Come on, come on, ha | |
| Dangerous ground | |
| Tre pound seven spin around for my bredren the cloud come down | |
| War and peace, | |
| I take it to the street | |
| Land shark on my lawn chop the thumbs off a thief | |
| And curse his first born, is this thing on? | |
| Send ' em to the children of the corn, we the people | |
| See, niggaz through the eye of the demon | |
| My lethal injection, destroyin' evil | |
| Hot Nikkel, private eye one pistol | |
| Aimin' at your brain tissue, do or die | |
| Said the spider to the fly, " Could this one be tasty?" | |
| Like momma apple pie goodness, | |
| Johnny Blaze me | |
| On the job like | |
| Dick Tracy | |
| Hit the cure for that ill shit like | |
| Ben Casey, | |
| M. D. Symbolic thrill like | |
| God he shocked it | |
| Like a finger in a light socket, too good to be forgotten | |
| In the rotten apple | |
| I kick dirt on your sand castle | |
| Check the flavor all natural | |
| Beat your feet | |
| Hot Nikk' s son | |
| Heatmizer | |
| Before you get the main course | |
| Taste a appetizer | |
| Submerged in the word | |
| Heavy headed verbal that smack you | |
| Mentally disturb you, attack you | |
| Thirty six chamb' once again comin' at you | |
| Young gun got the body snatch you observe | |
| Wise words you can only see through the third | |
| I fall way beyond the norm on the verb | |
| Shine on mental nourishment, you can dine on | |
| Track yellin' at me get yo arrow god | |
| Victory is hard, regardless to whom or what | |
| They all movin' targets | |
| AllahRunnin' through your house and your block party, with rap shotty | |
| And hot rock the body body, | |
| St. Bernards | |
| Couldn' t save your entourage, rap lobotomy | |
| Leave ya mentally scarred, numb and possibly | |
| Dumb deaf and blind is it | |
| I kick the spine out the battery backs | |
| Fuckin' with mine keep it movin' | |
| Now everybody just throw your hands in the | |
| What the fuck, fuck? | |
| Peace, who this? | |
| Mind detect mind, | |
| I P. L. O. your startin' line | |
| Deep Space | |
| NineDesigned for knuckleheads who bust guns and throw signs | |
| Let' s converse snatch the tap from your purse | |
| Bodysurf on the verse head first | |
| Peep defeat, bitch | |
| Street beat you down with the heat | |
| And you spazzed out spittin' out teeth ain' t nuttin' peace | |
| Big boys don' t destroy blunted zone pop steroid50 men convoy, expensive where' s the big toy | |
| Rumble through the wasteland right hand' s on the silencer40 caliber city slicker | |
| Staten Islander | |
| Synchronized minds combine thoughts that motivate | |
| Don' t perpetrate pass the blunt let it circulate | |
| Street politicians on a suicide mission | |
| Crime vision finger itchin' from a scope view position | |
| Dangerous ground | |
| Tre' pound seven spin around for my bredren the cloud comes down | |
| Keep your eyes open | |
| Love potion number nine poetry in motion | |
| Knowledge me the seventh sign | |
| Scopin', connivin', infiltrate is most of mine | |
| Play ' em nonchalantly, calmly expose the nine | |
| Push and get shoved' what the fuck | |
| Gods' thinkin' of | |
| Comin' in the club wit that screwface, actin' up | |
| Is we men or mice, bad moon risin' we wild for the night | |
| Kill a skitzofrenic nigga twice ' cuz o | |
| That' s what happened when frontin' on the | |
| Shaol' borough | |
| Island of | |
| Staten we in here no fear | |
| Assault wit intent | |
| To kill your whole regiment it' s real | |
| Startin' wit yo president, duckin' my dart gun | |
| Tear apart son you don' t want it then don' t start none | |
| Blaze one with | |
| Jonathon, part man part fly | |
| Handle my | |
| B I camouflage like | |
| G. I. Fat like | |
| Joe, a day in the life | |
| Your money or your life that' s the life | |
| Everybody can' t afford ice in the struggle | |
| Tryin' to eat right another day another hustle hustle hustle | |
| Dangerous ground | |
| Tre' pound seven spin around for my bredren the clouds come down | |
| War and peace, | |
| I take it to the street | |
| Land shark on my lawn chop the thumbs off a thief | |
| Motherfucker |
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