Therapy (Clean) [feat. Method Man & Redman] SONG LYRICS

Masta Killa

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Masta Killa: 
Yo, I gotta be around this music, it's therapeutic 
The first fresh [?] of the day is so clear 
When I walk, in my head, there's a voice that talks 
In my ear I can hear so clear, you think I'm buggin' right? 
I'm just contemplating the silent [?] 
Out to the Westside my killer Cali gangstas ride and get the head right 
Yo son, I'm on the next flight in 
Twist some [?] I'm guaranteed the right of his psalm before we reach 
Throw the instrumental on it, watch [?] pattern of speech 
[?] military arm ready to swarm, get your party on 
Drinks on the house tonight, ladies lookin' right 
Atmosphere nice and warm, we backstage like a hundred thieves strong 
Ghost want the red light on before we get on 
An hour's too short [?], we got a million songs 
Method Man: 
Yo I gotta be around this music, it's therapeutic 
Like my first blunt of the day to start the movement 
I'm sittin' in the room with a view, there's always room for improvement 
So I grab my coat and go and prove it 
Just me against the world, you can find me in the streets 
She'll spot me in the lobby, probably find me in the free 
Cop a 'Rari, the [?] in the lining of my seats 
Tryna put me in a lineup til' I wind up in the beast 
That's the belly, how dare they tryna tell me when to eat 
With a plate of food barely in my reach 
My team shoot dice, we used to shoot skelly in the streets 
Wear the same Pelle-Pelle's for a week 
But now we livin' life, and such a good life I wish that I could live it twice 
I'd probably make [?] my wife 
It's Wu-Tang Clan, always collect cheddar 
Proper education, always correct errors 
Redman: 
Yo, bananas, Redman so gorilla 
Chi-town know I'm pimping the mic, nigga 
One hit, and chicks follow me like Twitter 
Crack when I talk, I like the mic [?] 
The fiends hit it, chicks swing wit' it 
I'll box niggas in like Dom King did it 
I get dough, [?] for the sick flow 
My weed more greener than Lou Ferrigno 
My right-hand man hand on the pistol 
I crack these squares up like Nabisco 
Oh, look at me, I'm lightweight 
But with the heart to peel back your white meat 
Yo wifey want me to make her wifey 
Hit it, make the bitch hyphy at high speed 
Doc 
Song Discussions is protected by U.S. Patent 9401941. Other patents pending.

Therapy (Clean) [feat. Method Man & Redman] - Masta Killa Song Lyrics

Masta Killa:
Yo, I gotta be around this music, it's therapeutic
The first fresh [?] of the day is so clear
When I walk, in my head, there's a voice that talks
In my ear I can hear so clear, you think I'm buggin' right?
I'm just contemplating the silent [?]
Out to the Westside my killer Cali gangstas ride and get the head right
Yo son, I'm on the next flight in
Twist some [?] I'm guaranteed the right of his psalm before we reach
Throw the instrumental on it, watch [?] pattern of speech
[?] military arm ready to swarm, get your party on
Drinks on the house tonight, ladies lookin' right
Atmosphere nice and warm, we backstage like a hundred thieves strong
Ghost want the red light on before we get on
An hour's too short [?], we got a million songs
Method Man:
Yo I gotta be around this music, it's therapeutic
Like my first blunt of the day to start the movement
I'm sittin' in the room with a view, there's always room for improvement
So I grab my coat and go and prove it
Just me against the world, you can find me in the streets
She'll spot me in the lobby, probably find me in the free
Cop a 'Rari, the [?] in the lining of my seats
Tryna put me in a lineup til' I wind up in the beast
That's the belly, how dare they tryna tell me when to eat
With a plate of food barely in my reach
My team shoot dice, we used to shoot skelly in the streets
Wear the same Pelle-Pelle's for a week
But now we livin' life, and such a good life I wish that I could live it twice
I'd probably make [?] my wife
It's Wu-Tang Clan, always collect cheddar
Proper education, always correct errors
Redman:
Yo, bananas, Redman so gorilla
Chi-town know I'm pimping the mic, nigga
One hit, and chicks follow me like Twitter
Crack when I talk, I like the mic [?]
The fiends hit it, chicks swing wit' it
I'll box niggas in like Dom King did it
I get dough, [?] for the sick flow
My weed more greener than Lou Ferrigno
My right-hand man hand on the pistol
I crack these squares up like Nabisco
Oh, look at me, I'm lightweight
But with the heart to peel back your white meat
Yo wifey want me to make her wifey
Hit it, make the bitch hyphy at high speed
Doc
Song Discussions is protected by U.S. Patent 9401941. Other patents pending.

Therapy (Clean) [feat. Method Man & Redman] song lyrics