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 Artist : METHOD MAN
 
 Simmons Incorporated | METHOD MAN[Intro: Dig Dast (Jamel Simmons) {Gold D}]Yo my nigga Jamel Simmons what the deal nigga?
 (Gold D,  Dig Dast what's goin down, what's goin down)
 {Aight, what's goin on, what's goin on
 What's the deal pa, where you headed son?}
 (Yo I'm bout to go to the studio and lay smash hit
 Wit my Uncle Run, boy)
 {Word?} Ain't he a Reverend now, collectin plates
 At churches and shit?
 (He's spittin flames right now baby
 He at the top of his game, right now
 I'm tellin, I'm show you, watch
 Youknowhatimean? He's a born again, hooligan)
 Uh-huh
 
 [Jamel Simmons]
 I'm red rum, Reverend Run, brother son, earthquakin
 Industry shakin, you kiddin me? We money makin
 Your money fake son, I'll call you clay cuz you get's Play-Doh
 Jamel and Joey Simmons holdin millions on the lay low
 Platinum hailos, hero heads high from hydro
 Hit the dime on the combo, she try to diss my rhyme flow
 She ain't know we only glamorous like Phat Farm fashion
 Simmons name sinamous wit this cash
 It's our passion... what!?
 
 [Run]
 Yo basically I'm here to rename rap, it ain't rap no more
 Call it Simmons Incorporated, since '74
 Lotta money in this fam, think about it
 Me wit Run-D.M.C., and him over at Def Jam
 Well damn, how the hell you think we livin?
 How you think it feel to be a Simmons
 Imagine Christmas and Thanksgiving
 People wanna know why I ain't on my brother's label
 If I did this whole rap game be unstable
 Went over to Arista wit Mr. Davis, for the change of neighbors
 It's only fair that we share those naked papers
 You can tell a cat serious about rap and it ain't luck
 If 20 years after his first single, his name's stuck
 From '74 to '99, did novice to king, wit a million
 MC's waitin in line
 Keep a barrel on this album if my man's and them rise
 
 [Method Man]
 Now speed it up, uh
 
 [Chorus 2X: Run]
 Run really make ya wanna drop, drop
 Now wanna make ya go live, live
 Now wanna make ya go live, live
 Now hold up
 
 [Method Man]
 Now I walked on ice and never fell
 I spent my time in a plush hotel
 John-John Phenomenon, deadly but calm
 Word to my born, dead by dawn
 Got the right to bear arm, ring the alarm!
 Another sound boy dyin, hot irons
 Slugs flyin out the hardware appliance
 Baby mamma cryin, sobbin and grievin
 You was at aws wit them kids till they made it even
 Let down ya guard, yes you did, now you barely breathin
 To unaware, open season on a duck, we don't give a what
 Yo best best to give it up
 Sho indeed, let's Run D's MC's, they phony
 Some hump free, they mad bogey
 Saddle up ya horse, if the sunset mosey
 Jam Master Jay deserve a trophy for this track, right?
 Futuristic G past type, if that's yo girlfriend
 She wasn't last night punk, little boy
 Stylin mad chump, ain't no wins here
 This sport's extreme, know what I mean?
 Gettin royalty, +Down With the King+!!!
 
 [D.M.C.]
 Crack, crack, cracks in the cradle
 Cracks, in the cradle
 Cracks in the cradle, cokes in the spoon
 Little Boy Blue higher than the moon
 Will he, will he want a weapons, will he wanted the wound
 I come to school and lay down the rules
 Two, two, two channel empty guzzle, brake gallons of drop
 Shorty wit the forty, once sport in the dark
 Co-co-corner, black as a goner
 Didn't really wanna call my momma in Savannah
 
 [Mike Ransom]
 I spit dynamite ignite turn off lights
 Recite, spit poetry type, get my squad physically hype
 Get a hundred blast from Funkmaster, crush ya life
 +Blast+ Time to go now, show these fake rappers the way to go down
 Down With The Kings, like Smokey down wit Motown
 Who wanna come and see, come and test me
 Take about a million MC's to wet me
 For Run-D.M.C. I let shells fly, freein the five
 Wit the red eye, niggas talkin to much
 Tape 'em up, leave 'em hog tied
 
 [Kenny Cash]
 You thinkin about it way to hard, how to get down wit the Gods
 Kenny Cash, the Bronx cat, but it'll ride wit gats
 Peep chicks huggin the sacks, yours scratchin the back
 I'mma shark in a shack, y'all cats is feedin the fish
 Now hate and feed wit clips, nigga that leave you ripped
 And I'm leavin 'em dry, shit's crushed wit bleadin lips
 Bet I, leave these chips, and a C.L.K.
 After I hang plaques in the spot wit Run, D and Jay
 
 [Chorus 4X]
 
 
 
 
 
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