Chorus: P.L.O. style, Buddha monks with the Owls P.L.O. style, Buddha monks with the Owls P.L.O. style, Buddha monks with the Owls P.L.O. style... Verse One: Method Man Here comes the ruckus, the motherfucking ruckus Thousands of cut-throats and crumb-snatching fuckers Straight from the brain, I'll be givin you the pain, anger Coming from the 36th Chamber, Bang! Tical, hitting with the Buddha-Fist style Shotgun slamming in your chest piece, plow! Brain, is blown all over the terrain Like a man without no arms you can't hang Time for a change of the guard You've been arrested for lyric fraud now you barred For real, check it, I pull strings like B.B. King on guitar I'm the true fist of the North Star! Verse Two: Carlton Fisk, Method Man Ooooooooh! What a tangled web we weave When first we practice to deceive Guns be clicking, running with my clan we be sticking Whatever, my street family stays together Represent what I invent, Killah Hill Resident, rest in peace to my nigga Two Cent The street life is the only life I know I live by the code style it's mad P.L.O... Iranian thoughts are covered like an Arabian Grab the nigga who on the spot and put a nine to his cranium I..can't...get no satisfaction, niggas won't be lasting Long, unless they get protection, for real Strong, coming with my clan so what's happening Commercial rap, hate it with a passion The M-E-T-H-O-D got me drinking O.E. all night in a M.P.V. Just maxing, looking for hoes, you know relaxing Bitches know the hour it be time for some action P.L.O., peace to that nigga Barryano Word up, let's take him to the bridge, Verrazano Chorus