Cagnes-sur-Mer (IPA: [kaɲ syʁ mɛʁ]) is a commune presenting the form of a well-wooded and park-covered urban settlement in the Alpes-Maritimes department in the Provence-Alpes-Côte d'Azur region in southeastern France. Economically it forms a suburb to the city of Nice.
It is the largest suburb of the city of Nice and lies to the west-southwest of it, about 15 km (9.3 mi) from the center. It is a commune with no particularly high rise buildings with many woods and parks, as to most of its homes urban, in the Alpes-Maritimes department in the Provence-Alpes-Côte d'Azur
It was the retreat and final address of the painter Pierre-Auguste Renoir, who moved there in 1907 in an attempt to improve his arthritis, and remained until his death in 1919. In the late 1920s, Cagnes-sur-Mer became a residence for many American renowned literary and art figures, such as Kay Boyle, George Antheil and Harry and Caresse Crosby. Author Georges Simenon (1903–1989), creator of the fictional detective Commissaire Jules Maigret, lived at 98, montée de la Bourgade in the 1950s with his third wife and their three children; his initial “S” may still be seen in the wrought iron on the stairs.
[method man]
Uh, and it goes like this
Uh uh uh uh, it goes like that
Now let me tell you who I am
Up early in the morning, dressed in black
Who dat? *echoes*
[genius/gza]
Yo yo
Marvel this theatrical, drama on stage
Broadway classical, led men to rage
Like currents, the beat change and now a flow is strange
You in the arctic wit wolves that viciously main
Thugs that roam clubs, in the dark wit fireworks that spark
Saltwater vibrations comin from sharks
Blood-thirsty kids bite just as well as I write
You're like secretaries who can't type, you're no use
Broke down vessels who want a boost, there's no jokes
Quick fast you, get stumped 'cause you played, your organ pump
Kool-aid, from indiana wit the jones of a lost crusade
Hip-hop done hit the church, choir girls rockin mini skirts
The b-side kept plenty hurt
Push like the shovels in snow storms
And stack piles of foul, the shit you must grow on! *echoes*
Chorus [method man] 4x
Uh and it goes like this
Uh uh uh uh, it goes like that
[method man]
Pay no attention to the evil they speak
You caught the beef wit the equal eye, poisonous beats from underneath
Crack the concrete wit two left feet
Head on my meat
Ain't no games here we playin for keeps (we play for keeps!)
Introducing, the crowd seducing man on the street
Penitentiaries is either half-dead or too sweet
Back to basic, condition-al god, plus I can take it
Wagin war within the matrix, it's hard to see
Touch, hear, smell or even taste it, take your places
We runnin in these human races, bucking naked
Back-slappin kid yappin, actin villian catchin feelin like we cap peelin
As if we killin every brick in every project building
From cabrini green to tildens, sincerely yours
Mista meth and maximilion (da millions, da millions)
(ka ka ka ka ka ka ka kaaa!) (da millions ha!)
Chorus 5x
[method man]
Uh uh uh uh
Uh uh uh uh
Wu-tang killa bees on the swarm (we play for keeps!)
(we play for keeps!)
Wu-tang killa bees on the swarm