************************************************** All I Need (Remix)[Chorus: Mary J. Blige & Notorious B.I.G.] You're all, I need Lie together, cry together I swear to God I hope we fucking die together To get by You're all, I need Lie together, cry together I swear to God I hope we fucking die together To get by [Verse 1: Method Man] Shorty I'm there for you anytime you need me For real girl, it's me in your world, believe me Nothing make a man feel better than a woman Queen with a crown that be down for whatever There are few things that's forever, my lady We can make war or make babies Back when I was nothing You made a brother feel like he was something That's why I'm with you to this day boo, no fronting Even when the skies were gray You would rub me on my back and say, "Baby it'll be okay" Now that's real to a brother like me, baby Never ever give my cootie away and keep it tight aight And I'ma walk these dogs so we can live In a fat-ass crib with thousands of kids Word life, you don't need a ring to be my wife Just be there for me and I'ma make sure we be Living in the effin' lap of luxury I'm realizing that you didn't have to funk with me But you did, now I'm going all out kid And I got mad love to give, you my nigga [Chorus: Mary J. Blige & Notorious B.I.G.] You're all, I need To get by You're all, I need Lie together, cry together I swear to God I hope we fucking die together To get by [Interlude: Mary J. Blige] Like sweet morning dew I took one look at you And it was plain to see You were my destiny With you I'll spend my time I'll dedicate my life, I'll sacrifice for you Dedicate my life to you [Verse 2: Method Man] I got a Love Jones for your body and your skin tone Five minutes alone, I'm already on the bone Plus I love the fact you got a mind of your own No need to shop around you got the good stuff at home Even if I'm locked up North you in the world Wrapped in three-fourths of cloth never showing your stuff off, boo It be true me for you, that's how it is I be your Noah, you be my Wiz I'm your mister, you my misses with hugs and kisses Valentine cards and birthday wishes, please We on another level of planning, of understanding The bond between man and woman, and child The highest elevation 'cause we above All that romance crap, just show your love [Chorus: Mary J. Blige and Notorious B.I.G.] You're all, I need Lie together, cry together I swear to God I hope we fucking die together To get by You're all, I need Lie together, cry together I swear to God I hope we fucking die together To get by [Outro: Method Man and Mary J. Blige] I'm sick of police Cheeba cheeba y'all, and you don't stop Yeah yeah, cootie in the, Tical Cheeba cheeba y'all, and you don't stop Yeah yeah, cootie in the chair, Tical Cheeba cheeba y'all, and you don't stop Yeah yeah, cootie in the chair, Tical Mary J. raw, and Meth-Tical Like sweet morning dew Yeah yeah I took one look at you Cootie in the chair, Tical And it was plain to see Cheeba cheeba y'all You were my destiny, baby Cheeba cheeba y'all Cheeba cheeba y'all, bring it on, yeah What's that shit that they be smoking No romance without finance for now Baby, please, '95 Ticallion Stallion, ha ha, ha ha Man woman and child, yeah ************************************************** Bring the Pain[Intro: Method Man] Basically Can't fuck with me [Verse 1: Method Man] I came to bring the pain hardcore from the brain Let's go inside my astral plane Find out my mental, based on instrumental Records, hey, so I can write monumental Methods, I'm not the king But niggas is decaf, I stick 'em for the cream Check it, just how deep can shit get Deep as the abyss and brothers is mad, fish accept it In your Cross Colour clothes, you've crossed over Then got Totally Krossed Out and Kris Krossed Who the boss? Niggas get tossed to the side And I'm the dark side of the Force Of course it's the Method, Man from the Wu-Tang Clan I be hectic, and comin' for the head piece, protect it Fuck it, two tears in a bucket Niggas want the ruckus Bustin' at me, bruh, now bust it Styles, I gets buckwild Method Man on some shit, pullin' niggas files, I'm sick Insane, crazy, driving Miss Daisy Out her fucking mind, now I got mine, I'm Swayze [Chorus: Method Man] Is it real, son, is it really real, son? Let me know it's real, son, if it's really real Something I could feel, son, load it up and kill one Want it raw deal, son, if it's really real, yeah, uh [Interlude: Booster & Method Man] When I was a likle stereo (Stereo) I listen to some Champion (Champion) I always wondered (Wondered) When I will be di number one (Tical) And now yuh listen to di Gorgon (Gorgon) And a Gorgon sound a Rein An' any jump and come tes' mi (Test me) Mi a-go lick out dem brain (it’s like that) [Verse 2: Method Man] Brothers wanna hang with the Meth, bring the rope The only way you'll hang is by the neck Nigga, bolt off the set, comin' to your projects Take it as a threat, better yet it's a promise Comin' from a vet on some old Vietnam shit Nigga, you can bet your bottom dollar, hey, I bomb shit And it's gonna get even worse, word to God It's the Wu comin' through, stickin' niggas for they garments Movin' on your left, southpaw, Mr. Meth Came to represent and carve my name in your chest You can come test, realize you're no contest Son, I'm the gun that won that old Wild West Quick on the draw with my hands on the four- Nine-three-eleven with the rugged rhymes galore Check it, 'cause I think not when this hip-hops like proper Rhymes be the proof while I'm drinkin' 90 proof Huh, vodka, no OJ, no straw When you give it to me, ayy, give it to me raw I've learned that when you drink Absolut straight it burns Enough to give my chest hairs a perm I don't need a chemical blow to pull a ho All I need is Chemical Bank to pay the roll [Interlude: Method Man] What, basically that, Meth-Tical, '94 style (Northern spicy brown mustard hoes, word up, we be hazardous) We have to stick you [Chorus: Method Man] Is it real, son, is it really real, son? (Motherfucker, I'll fuckin') Let me know it's real, son, if it's really real (Slide you down a rusty razor blade into a pool of alcohol) Something I could feel, son, load it up and kill one Want it raw deal, son, if it's really real [Outro: Method Man] I'll fuckin', I'll fuckin' cut your kneecaps off And make you kneel at some staircase, piss I'll fuckin' cut your eyelids off and feed you nothin' but sleepin' pills Get yours, motherfucker So fuck the ho, fuck the ho ************************************************** All I Need[Chorus: Method Man & Streetlife] You're all that I need, I'll be there for you If you keep it real with me, I'll keep it real with you Loving your whole steez, it be in there boo On top of that you got the good power-U [Verse 1: Method Man] Shorty I'm there for you anytime you need me For real girl, it's me in your world, believe me Nothing make a man feel better than a woman Queen with a crown that be down for whatever There are few things that's forever, my lady We can make war or make babies Back when I was nothing, you made a brother feel like he was something That's why I'm with you to this day boo no fronting Even when the skies were gray You would rub me on my back and say, "Baby, it'll be okay" Now that's real to a brother like me, baby Never ever give my pussy away And keep it tight, aight And I'ma walk these dogs so we can live In a fat-ass crib with thousands of kids Word life, you don't need a ring to be my wife Just be there for me and I'ma make sure we Be living in the fucking lap of luxury I'm realizing that you didn't have to fuck with me But you did, now I'm going all out, kid And I got mad love to give, you my nigga [Chorus] You're all that I need, I'll be there for you If you keep it real with me, I'll keep it real with you Loving your whole steez, it be in there boo On top of that you got the good power-U You're all that I need, I'll be there for you If you keep it real with me, I'll keep it real with you Loving your whole steez, it be in there boo On top of that you got the good power-U [Verse 2: Method Man] I got a Love Jones for your body and your skin tone Five minutes alone I'm already on the bone Plus I love the fact you got a mind of your own No need to shop around you got the good shit at home Even if I'm locked up North you in the world Rocking three-fourths of cloth Never showing your stuff off, boo It be true me for you that's how it is I can be your Knower, you can be my Wiz Then I can be your Sun, you can be my Earth Resurrect the God through birth Best believe [Chorus] You're all that I need, I'll be there for you If you keep it real with me, I'll keep it real with you Loving your whole steez, it be in there boo On top of that you got the good power-U You're all that I need, I'll be there for you If you keep it real with me, I'll keep it real with you Loving your whole steez, it be in there boo On top of that you got the good power-U ************************************************** What’s Happenin’[Intro] Ayo, Tical? What up, fam? You know Bus-a-Bus had to come see you, God, it's good to see you, God Good too see you too, God Let's take the streets for a little ride Okay, we ridin' high Yeah, you better light your L, smoke your L, and just kiss the sky Huh, and if you ever disrespect the Bus' or Meth, bye, dead man, die Yeah, I, I, I think the streets been lookin' for this one for a long time, God (Yeah, yo) Come on [Verse 1] I came to bring the pain, more hard to the brain (Tical) I'm bustin' that ass again I burn like acid rain, that ass is lame These niggas tryna see how I come? Ask your dame Ain't it evident I'm hittin' it? (Yes) Meth for President Be in hell with gasoline drawers just for the hell of it And I ain't delicate, flows hot as kettle get Now if you ain't fucking with that, you must be celibate Spazz, just a little, got a sack we can sizzle Little hash in the middle, where it at? In the middle, yup Mommy, if you got a fat ass, make it jiggle, yup Put it in my next video shot by Little X And M-E-F gon' work 'til their ain't any left I'm trying to get what I'm worth and not a penny less Think fast, (Come on) bank cash (Come on) Everybody do it with you stank-ass (Come on) [Chorus] This shit'll make you rob somebody (What) Grab somebody (What) Stomp somebody (What!) Slap somebody (What) Make you wanna step to the bar and sip Bacardi (What) Wild out, spaz in the club, we in the party (What) Brooklyn (Come on) Shaolin (Come on) Queensbridge down to Long Island (Come on) Bronx, nigga (Come on) Manhattan (Come on) To each and every hood, what's happenin'? (Come on) [Interlude] Yeah, real talk, nigga, come on, Bus' Ayo, Meth, let me get at these niggas Yeah [Verse 2] Now watch me back your shit up I hope your people pull up and pick up and pack your shit up Homie, it's time to move While I'm seeing right through you let me relieve you all of your Figures seating screeching, never believing you niggas (Come on) Go head and babble, you can watch me patiently waiting Aiming, attacking, instead I'ma let one of my bitches slap you I invite you and your niggas to try and feel the wrath Of the unruly unawakening of a sleeping giant (Very defiant) Once I give you the pressure and then I apply it And then your breathin' is stopped and totally quiet Captain of this ship so call me the pilot I leave you and your crew to collide with me then I Stomp on a nigga, just like a herd of a thousand cattle That'll travel over your face and frazzle your shit Chop you worse than a brick and then we torture you And then get the reverend, and get to steppin', nigga [Chorus] This shit'll make you rob somebody (What) Grab somebody (What) Stomp somebody (What) Slap somebody (What) Make you wanna step to the bar and sip Bacardi (What) Wild out, spaz in the club, we in the party (What) Brooklyn (Come on) Shaolin (Come on) Queensbridge down to Long Island (Come on) Bronx, nigga (Come on) Manhattan (Come on) To each and every hood, what's happenin'? (Come on) [Interlude] That's what truth be, my nigga (Yeah, come on) Niggas, listen, let me talk (Let me talk, come on) [Verse 3] Can't you see what I got for you now? (Huh) Shake your big fat ass in front of me now To all my high bidders, to all my live niggas We here to blackout, follow the story now Just feel my heat, and you know I'm gonna Just keep the street, but, nigga Did you know we about to lose it, my nigga? And you know we gon' get real stupid, my nigga [Verse 4] See the police coming (What) Fireman coming (What) Street niggas ready to riot and start dumbing (What) I love to see it whenever you and your man fronting (What) Me and Meth'll step to you (Quick) and smash something (What) Now who is he? Dope MC killing these cowards Wack niggas get pimp slapped, give me some powder Click-clack, one in your back, now think about it Get back, running your yap, I can't allow it Well, yeah, my nigga (Set it off) You know we seeing it through, God The street be needing niggas like me and you, God (Ayo) I think what I'm seeing from here we got 'em wildin', yo Logical, we should've did this shit a long time ago I got that shit that make rappers shit in they shoes Nasty MC, I spit flows and spit in they food Man, don't tempt me, I'm nothing like a curious child I'm simply a Boy in the Hood with Furious Styles [Chorus] This shit'll make you rob somebody (What) Grab somebody (What) Stomp somebody (What) Slap somebody (What) Make you wanna step to the bar and sip Bacardi (What) Wild out, spaz in the club, we in the party (What) Brooklyn (Come on) Shaolin (Come on) Queensbridge down to Long Island (Come on) Bronx, nigga (Come on) Manhattan (Come on) To each and every hood, what's happenin'? (Come on) [Outro] Every day, every rotation, come with it (Yeah, yeah) Let me talk, come on Ayo, God Yeah, lord Flipmode, Wu-Tang, nigga Ain't that some shit? That's some shit Abso-truthfully, Bus-a-Bus Meth-Tical Yeah (Yeah) Ayy, let me know when you wanna do that again, God Shit, we we can do it right now (Yeah) Shoutout to New Jersey Yeah ************************************************** Built for This[Verse 1: Method Man] Sort of like Malcolm at the Audubon They coming for me, time is money no Audemar See bar-for-bar, I keep it pushing no R&R No foreign broads and no promotion for foreign cars The game is ours, let’s keep it funky who said he was Like Staten Island, Italians bleed spaghetti sauce If y'all ain't shaking or stacking than y'all already lost Already cross the light, Christ I'm ready for em Plus anybody that saying no, I’m taking numbers I’m taking names, I’ll take your chain take this hunger Pain, pain, pain Then you feel the thunder and rain I don’t talk it like the rainbow I get it done and the game y’all Do me a favor, don’t ever play with my ball Never been a player-hater I just ain't playing with y'all You watching lame but look I’m taking the charge Going hard will get you two shots now I’m facing the charge [Hook: Freddie Gibbs] Fire up the la let’s go take a ride They might catch you by surprise if you let em slide But if you’re built for this shit then you might survive Guess I’ll see you when you wake up on the other side Fire up the la let’s go take a ride They might catch you by surprise if you let em slide But if you’re built for this shit then you might survive Guess I’ll see you when you wake up on the other side [Verse 2: Freddie Gibbs] Sort of like Mike at the United Center Madison Square, Boston Garden I straight ignite on niggas Lil' nigga your raps ain’t no fire, that shit’ll collapse so don’t try I scribble and scratch down in my pad that no lie That no fake, that uncut, that straight drop, what the fuck I’m pulled over by the jakes, a twenty-eight up in my nuts For em took away in cuffs I’d rather lay up in the dust Feel like fuck a friend a hundred million haters ain’t enough Twist it up Life is a blunt and the world is my ash tray I got them quarters and them halves just meet me like halfway And I need a hundred percent of my profit ain't fucking with half pay Ain't taking no shorts or losses bitch we ain't fronting no tag day As I can recollect, praying to God this dope’ll stretch Turn mobster warners, work these corners like P90X Chilling and waiting, patient retaliation just ain't find me yet I’ll take it into Heaven, you couldn’t buy me that, remind me that [Hook: Freddie Gibbs] Fire up the la let’s go take a ride They might catch you by surprise if you let em slide But if you’re built for this shit then you might survive Guess I’ll see you when you wake up on the other side Fire up the la let’s go take a ride They might catch you by surprise if you let em slide But if you’re built for this shit then you might survive Guess I’ll see you when you wake up on the other side [Verse 3: StreetLife] It's the world’s worst, quick to snatch your man purse And leave your body head first in the stretched hearse Murder she wrote, I’m known to spit a killer verse And leave a player blood spilling on his linen shirt You can Google my name but you ain't gotta search I’m right here in the streets, I'm putting in work Go ahead, fuck around and get your feelings hurt Or, you can get carried outta your local church I’m from the old school, I do my own dirt Mama raised no fool, I did my own work Keep your wifey close, she’s a little flirt I knew her since '03, I hit the bitch first I’m the reason why your baby mama water burst I’ve been marvelous since birth, you can ask my Earth It’s not a problem to show you how the shotty work I put your body in the dirt, but what the dollars worth [Hook: Freddie Gibbs] Fire up the la let’s go take a ride They might catch you by surprise if you let em slide But if you’re built for this shit then you might survive Guess I’ll see you when you wake up on the other side Fire up the la let’s go take a ride They might catch you by surprise if you let em slide But if you’re built for this shit then you might survive Guess I’ll see you when you wake up on the other side ************************************************** Release Yo’ Delf[Hook: Blue Raspberry] (x2) When I first stepped on the scene, niggas was petrified Jet back to the lab like they were being chased by homicide My rap flow does you right Tical And it will never steer you wrong And all you bitch-ass niggas in the industry Your careers won't be lasting long [Verse 1: Method Man] Check it, I'm the fucking man, who they mention Noticed that other niggas rap styles is bogus Doo-doo compared to this versatile voodoo Blazing, the stuff that ignites stimulation Inside ya, cause I be that hell sure provider Providing the rhyme that be deep as The Poseidon Adventure Niggas need to test they freaking tincture For the sickness that be spreading with the quickness Remedies, cousin I be doing on my enemy Penalty, then I drink forties to they memories Emotion, coursing through your town street vicinity Blunt smoke in the air reveals my identity [Break: Method Man] (Tical.... tical... ti-cal, ti-cal...) As I keep it moving, we keep it moving, uh Keep it moving, and keep it moving, uh Keep it moving, baby, we be moving, uh Keep it moving, we keep it—huh, rhahhrh! [Bridge: Method Man] What's that rhythm, what's that sound? Party people getting down When it hit no doubt about Just release yo' delf [Verse 2: Method Man] My God, somebody said, it's on—if it is, then I'll be set To blow a nigga up with my five fingers of death I bring it to his whole damn fam, understand if you fronting On any man down with the Clan, I be coming For the headpiece you can't cope For my brother, I bring it to the Pope, word to mother Serial killer style from the Isles of Stat' My peoples are you with me, where you at? Shit's getting deep in here, I mean like thick Niggas lookin' all in my face like they want dick It's about to hit the fan, hit the floor That's all I can stands, and I can't stands no more What is it? Niggas think they bigger Because they got their finger on the trigger of a biscuit They don't know I'm wicked when I start to kick it Eat they raw sound, wash it down with a Mistic Better yet a Snapple Nigga want the juice but he don't want the hassle So we're trying to overthrow the castle Better yet the temple I'm coming to your town black down The rental car, the pistol cocked If you don't want to burn from the Glock Then beware, I buck shots, meaning what? The buck stops here, no more dough will be made Unless it's being made by who? [Bridge: Method Man] What's that rhythm, what's that sound? Party people getting down When it hit no doubt about Just release yo' delf [Hook: Blue Raspberry] (x2) When I first stepped on the scene, niggas was petrified Jet back to the lab like they were being chased by homicide My rap flow does you right Tical And it will never steer you wrong And all you bitch-ass niggas in the industry Your careers won't be lasting long [Break 2: Method Man] Throw your hands in the sky And wave them from side to side And if you’re ready to spark up the Meth Tical Let me hear you say stim-uli [Hook: Blue Raspberry] When I first stepped on the scene, niggas was petrified Jet back to the lab like they were being chased by homicide My rap flow does you right Tical And it will never steer you wrong And all you bitch-ass niggas in the industry Your careers won't be lasting long ************************************************** Tical[Intro Music: Modest Mussorgsky’s Pictures at an Exhibition] [Intro 1: Kung fu movie samples] *sounds of fighting* "You've been lucky... I wish I got you last time En garde, I'll let you try my Wu-Tang style." "I'd like to try your Wu-Tang style, let's begin then!" [Intro 2: Method] + (and others) From the tip top? (Aiyyo aiyyo, what the fuck's up with light dude?) Yup, one two (no doubt, no doubt) One two one two Yo one two, uh, one two one two (yeah, we gon' be up in that) Ah one two, uh, one two one two (yeah light that shit up) Ah one two yo, check me out [Hook: Method Man] What's that shit that they be smokin'? Tical... tical, tical Pass it over here... tical... tical, tical What's that shit that they be smokin'? Tical... tical, tical Pass it over here... tical... tical, tical [Verse 1: Method Man] Check it, I got styles, all of 'em sick Niggas ain't fit to walk a mile in the dead man's kicks I make 'em shit about a pile of bricks to show He ain't nothing but another unknown John Doe That wanna flow, here it is, coming up shit's creek I come to throw monkey wrenches in your program, sleep And I'ma grow like a rash on ya nasty ass In a whip, with no brakes and I'm hitting the gas It's a bird, it's a plane, take a look in the sky Method Man on some shit, niggas call me The Fly 'Cause my style dates back to hopping turnstiles Pay ya fare, if ya cutie in the chair, you can bet I'll Get severe on the double, I harass it I don't look for trouble, I'm already trouble Ya bastard, check the wicked flows that I crafted I'm another deadly venom style to be mastered By a psychopathic, way beyond an average Joe, with a hellafied flow, there ya have it [Hook: Method Man] What's that shit that they be smokin'? Tical... tical, tical Pass it over here... tical... tical, tical What's that shit that they be smokin'? Tical... tical, tical Pass it over here... tical... tical, tical [Break: Method Man] One two, uh, one two one two One two, uh, one two one two One two, uh, one two one two One two, uh, check it out [Verse 2: Method Man] What goes off? What goes on? The Meth shit That we got is to stay high, no question Lethal weapon, ain't no time for half steppin'' When brothers start wettin' everything in ya section Move that, niggas came strapped, should've knew that Do that, pussycat rap, boy, I'll screw that To' up, from the flow up, don't even show up To the battle, I heard you rattle, now hold up Is there a fucking snake in my garden? Starvin' for a rap treat, steppin' on my feet Pardon your delf, before ya find your delf In a fucked up situation, without no help I'm not playin' 'cause I don't play with nobody goddamn kid Know what I'm sayin'? I'm peeling niggas wigs I be sprayin' brothers with words 'Cause I gotta spit proooob... [Hook: Method Man] Tical... tical, tical Pass it over here... tical... tical, tical What's that shit that they be smokin'? Tical... tical, tical Pass it over here... tical... tical, tical [Outro: Method Man] One two uh, one two one two One two uh... (stick a fat tical in your butt, yeah baby fuckin with tical) (Yeah, niggas better recognize... tical...) ************************************************** I’ll Be There For You/You’re All I Need To Get By (Razor Sharp Mix)[Intro: Mary J. Blige] Like sweet morning dew I took one look at you And it was plain to see You were my destiny [Chorus: Mary J. Blige] You're all (You're all) I need (All I need) To get by (To get by) Ahh (Ahh) You're all (You're all) I need (All I need) To get by (Yeah yeah) Ahh (Ooh ooh) [Verse 1: Method Man] Shorty, I'm here for you anytime you need me For real, girl, it's me in your world, believe me Nuttin' make a man feel better than a woman Queen with a crown that be down for whatever There are few things that's forever, my lady We can make war or make babies Back when I was nothin' You made a brother feel like he was somethin' That's why I'm with you to this day, boo, no frontin' Even when the skies were gray You would rub me on my back and say, "Baby, it'll be okay" Now that's real to a brother like me, baby Never ever give my pussy away, and keep it tight, a'ight And I'ma walk these dogs so we can live In a phat-ass crib with thousands of kids Word life, you don't need a ring to be my wife Just be there for me and I'ma make sure we Be livin' in the fuckin' lap of luxury I'm realizin' that you didn't have to fuck wit' me But you did, now I'm goin' all out, kid And I got mad love to give You my nigga [Chorus: Mary J. Blige] You're all (You're all) I need (Oh oh) To get by (You're all) Ahh (All I need) You're all (You're all) I need (Oh oh) To get by (All I need) Ahh (All I need) [Verse 2: Method Man & Mary J. Blige] I got a love jones for your body and your skin tone Five minutes alone, I'm already on the bone Plus I love the fact you got a mind of your own No need to shop around you got the good shit at home Even if I'm locked up North you in the world Rockin' three-fourths of cloth, never showin' your stuff off, boo It be true, me for you, that's how it is I can be your Noah, you can be my Wiz Then I could be your sun, you can be my earth Resurrect the god through birth, best believe [Bridge: Method Man & Mary J. Blige] You're all that I need, I'll be there for you If you keep it real with me, I'll keep it real wit' you Lovin' your whole steez, it be in there, boo On top of that, you got the good power-U You're all that I need, I'll be there for you If you keep it real with me, I'll keep it real wit' you Lovin' your whole steez, it be in there, boo On top of that, you got the good power-U (You're all ... I need ... to get by ... ahh) [Chorus: Mary J. Blige] You're all (You're all) I need (All I need) To get by (Yeah yeah) Ahh (Ooh) You're all (You're all) I need (All I need) To get by (To get by) Ahh (Ahh) You're all (You're all) I need (All I need) To get by Ahh (You're all) You're all (You're all) I need (Oh) To get by (All I need) Ahh (All I need) You're all I need (Oh oh) To get by (You're all) Ahh (All I need) You're all (You're all) I need (Oh) To get by Ahh ************************************************** What the Blood Clot!?![Intro: RZA, (Method Man), {Y-Kim the Ill Figure}] Shit is banging! You see what I'm saying? Our shit is banging! (Our shit is staining, son) Yo, Shaolin running this shit, son! Running this shit! (Staining) What's up, Y-Kim? 'Sup, nigga? {What's up, man? What's up?} What's up? Representing Brownsville Know I'm saying? Base, peace to all my Brownsville niggas! {The alcoholics son} What's going on, son? Peace to all my Putnam Avenue motherfuckers! Bedford-Stuy, nigga! (Yeah, peace to the valley goat..) Peace to my Wild Wild West Brighton niggas! (Big up The Bridge!) Yeah, FUCK outta here, nigga [Verse 1: Method Man] All I hear is gun shots Can I touch something? What the Blood Clot!?! Nigga want Tical, make it happen You know my fucking style, fuck the rapping We can take it back to '85 if you wanna start acting like you live It's all good, I'm rolling with my clique Owls, Backwoods and Phillies Smoking cess blunts, mixed with illy got me flustered Now the whole world looks dusted I'm in the area with the steel that never rusted For real, nigga touch it and you burn When will motherfuckers learn? What be spreading like a germ? Haha, it's Meth, word I be that early bird that got the worm and if you check it I'm on point, like a fax machine you get the message It be's no question it's them, bust the second guessings Keep your thoughts on your lessons What the Blood Clot!?! To tell the truth you don't amaze me Killa Hill Project, a Star Trek phaser couldn't faze me What? Check the Raider Ruckus, fuck this Smoke a Dutchmaster, have 'em screaming for the dutchess Yeah, I gotta have it, so I strive to stack my papes If I don't do it for mydelf, I'ma do it for Kase 'Cause that's my peoples I'm giving you injections that be lethal Weapons, when niggas start to half stepping, then I get evil But don't let that negative vibe right there mislead you I'm humble, a fucking Killa Bee, far from bumble I sting you - bzzz - and I bring you Thirty-six Chambers of head banger, bitch What ya deal with? I think the mic's on the fritz Faggot soundmen, they be sabotaging shit Look up in the sky, it's a bird, it's a plane Meth-Tical, let the whole world know my fucking name What the Blood Clot!?! [Outro: Method Man] Yeah, yeah, you know what I'm saying? Keep it reals on this thing First of all I'd like to give a big up, peace and shout out To my brothers in the belly of the beast Raider Ruckus, we friends to the end and back again, baby. One love Gin Lover, Shitty Brown, Pus Head, Pil, the P.L.L Stack DAT, Dusty, Storm, Suu! We still in here, nigga Jamel, one love, baby, Nice Uncle Eric aka Shane, I ain't forget you, nigga Shakim, Nutt, Big Shaft, K. Fisk, Big Free from Cipher Heat All the fugitives on the run Everybody from Rikers Island to San Quentin And a big major shout out to my old dad who just got home on work release Keep your heads up niggas My people! (Yeah that nigga fucking Dirty Bastard, God, that nigga is crazy) Fucked with a napkin on his dick (laughter) ************************************************** P.L.O. Style[Hook: Method Man & Carlton Fisk] 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 1: Method Man] Here comes the ruckus, the motherfucking ruckus Thousands of cut-throats and crumb-snatching fuckers Straight from the brain, I'll be giving you the pain, anger Coming from the 36th Chamber, bang! Tical, hitting with the Buddha-Fist style Shotgun slamming in your chestpiece, plow! Frame 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 2: Carlton Fisk] 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, Killa 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 and cover like an Arabian Grab the nigga on the spot and put a nine to his cranium [Verse 3: Method Man, Carlton Fisk] 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 Berriano What up, Fisk? Take him to the bridge, Verrazano [Hook: Carlton Fisk] 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 ************************************************** Meth Vs. Chef[Intro] Your skill's worthy of a general If you want to fight, fight with me! One to one! Man to man! [Interlude: Lounge Lo (Raekwon)] Get ready to gel team! Live and direct from the one-six-ooh We got Tical, pow! Raekwon the Chef, Tical! It's about to go on, Tical You make the call, I make the call It's all for all Method Man, Raekwon the Chef (count my shells) And there's about to be one left (count my shells, nigga) I know you know it's on kid (Bring that shit I don't give a fuck!) [Verse 1: Method Man] Who lit that shit it was I the chinky-eye Chiba-hawk from New York, Tical Staten Isle Niggas thought, that they could walk a dog but they caught A bad situation, cause I'm a sandwich short Of a picnic, cause you ain't equipped with the sickening Style, blowing up the spot like ballistic Missiles, I be comin through like the four-nine-three-eleven Tearing up the power-u, Meth-Tical A bad motherfucking buddah monk, what the fuck Hit your chest, like cardiac arrest, blow the front Out the frame, hit the pussycat for the pain Of the dog shit, nobody move run your garments A rugged vet, durable like a Champion sweat Wrap a power in a tec, to wet A nigga up, with all the dangerous diseases Sniffling, sneezing, coughing, aching, stuffy head fever Fucker, I think it's bout time that you suffer Bobbing on my knob like an all day sucker Bitch! [Hook] Meth Vs. Chef Meth Vs. Chef (Let's bring this shit) Meth Vs. Chef (Yeah, one more time!) Meth Vs. Chef I blow your fuckin ass to death [Verse 2: Raekwon the Chef] I'm goin all out kid no turnbacks You could try to front, get smoked and that's that Lyric assassin, dressed in black rugged Sixteen shots to your mug, from a slug then I go to war in a concrete jungle, making bundles Niggas act funny, and fumble But I relax, count my shells, a lot of heads gotta fly Niggas stay strapped, armed to die Time for jet-black Tim boot, flowin Wha-Su God get him, hit em with the nine troop No question, cha-cha-BOW in the session Bloodshot in that direction, cypher Attack you like chess moves best move Yo, yeah, yo The boards, your ass 'Tack, 'tack, 'tack, uh! Attack the boards like chess moves, best move At Rae through, comin at your motherfuckin crew Live direct, yeah you better step Gunshots ring on the set Let's jet - motivate, to the gate With some quick high Rae stay fly, and rob your Isle Airwaves, yo behave Now you're a slave with the boots that paved the way ************************************************** Say[Intro: Lauryn Hill & Method Man] Yeah, yeah Yeah, yeah, yeah Yeah Yeah, yeah Yeah, yeah, yeah Yeah (Yeah) Yeah, yeah (Yeah) Yeah, yeah, yeah [Verse 1: Method Man] Damn, I hate it when it rain Ever since I came in the game, some hated on the fame A lot of niggas done changed and started actin' strange Even labels turning they backs and started backin' lames Radio is the same, whole lotta speculatin' These mutherfuckas defacatin' on the name Wu-Tang, if this is where the hip-hop is Radio lyin' then, that ain't where the hip-hop live It lives in the streets, we eat to live, they livin' to eat I'm fed up, that nigga Ryderson, I'm givin him sleep R.I.P., make me the king of all I see And when death call, I'm good, I got call ID See it was Clan in the front, now they just gon' front Like my joints is on Proactiv, and they just don't bump (Come on, man) Then niggas gon' say I lost my skill When in fact, they all been programmed and lost they feel, for real [Chorus: Lauryn Hill & Method Man] They've got so much things to say right now They've got so much things to say, yeah They've got so much things to say right now (Yeah) They've got so much things to say, yeah (Yeah) [Verse 2: Method Man] Damn, another artist chokes again They ain't cut as close as him or even broke the skin See how niggas ain't your friends when there ain't no ends Don't care who the case offend, don't underrate my pen I got what it takes to win, while y'all thinkin' I'm trash Lovin' the taste of success and this drink in my glass Watch 'em cosign that whack shit, give it a pass 'Til it's gone, quicker than Red, can't get rid of them crabs When they're wrong, call the cops, their credibility's shot It's time they learned what's hot really is and really is not Off-brand niggas, Meth gon' let 'em know off top Don't get smacked on DVDs, tryna show off Glocks I can't stop 'cause my enemies plot, or 'cause the cops want me Shackled and locked inside the penalty box And while they waitin' for my shit to flop They gettin' pimped like hoes, sellin' they ass just to get my spot, come on, man [Chorus: Lauryn Hill & Method Man] They've got so much things to say right now They've got so much things to say, yeah They've got so much things to say right now (Yeah) They've got so much things to say, yeah (Yeah) [Verse 3: Method Man] Ask Miss Hill, half these critics ain't got half this skill Or been so hungry that they have to steal If I didn't have my deal, and didn't have this mass appeal Then I'm back up in that trap, slingin' crack, it's real And that ain't worth the time, so search and find A new nerve and here's three words: stop working mine It take a lot more to hurt my pride, jerk my vibe More than media lies, cried when Dirt Dog died, nigga The last album, wasn't feelin' my style This time my foot up in they ass, bet they feelin' me now 'Cause Tical, he put his heart in every track he do But somehow y'all find someway to give a whack review It ain't all good, they writin' that I'm Hollywood Tryna tell you my shit ain't ghetto and they hardly hood Come on, man, until you dudes can write some rhymes Keep that in mind when you find yourself reciting mines [Chorus: Lauryn Hill] They've got so much things to say right now They've got so much things to say, yeah They've got so much things to say right now They've got so much things to say, yeah [Outro: Lauryn Hill] Yeah Yeah, yeah Yeah, yeah, yeah ************************************************** Break Ups 2 Make Ups[Intro: Method Man] You and I, 'til the day we die (Trackmasters) Yo, yo [Verse 1: Method Man] Ex-girlfriend, how you been? I see you still tryna fuck with other women's men Remember when I first met you in my cousin's house? A week later, we was fuckin' on your mama couch Now it's been said that big girls, they don't cry (Uh) But they damn sure lie, look you in the eye, sayin' you they only You and I, 'til the day we die Said you'd never leave me lonely (Uh-huh) Fly tenderoni, but you phony Shoulda listened when my mama told me (Uh) Soon as I turned my back, you tried to fuck my homies That was then, this is now, I got a new friend Ever since I cut them loose ends, you wanna bone me Add strife to my life, pussy that'll make me think twice About leavin' the wife even, picture that You ain't want me when you had me Now you on your third baby daddy And you hate to see a nigga happy So you're tryin' mad ways to trap me (Oh, babe) Lookin' at my girl nasty, tryna throw the pussy at me (Uh) [Interlude] Now look at this bitch over here tryna act like me Uh-huh, fuck that bitch, she must like leftovers [Chorus: D'Angelo & Method Man] I'm still in love with you, babe (You and I, 'til the day we die) Every break up I'm still in love with you, babe Just to make up I'm still in love with you, babe (You and I, 'til the day we die) Oh, girl I'm still in love with you, babe I said that we... I'm still in love with you, babe (You and I, 'til the day we die) Break up Little bit of loving you, babe I'm still in love with you, babe (You and I, 'til the day we die) I'm still in love with you Little bit of loving you, babe Girl, I'm in love, girl (Yo, yo) [Verse 2: Method Man] It's always you and your crusty-ass crew, be actin' new Let me find out you fuckin' with boo, and y'all gon' feel it Waitin' for the day that you front, and catch a lump From my black butterfly, that arm pack a lullaby Sleep on her, she said you bitches tried to creep on her In the mall and didn't know she had the reach on her Pearl-handle .22, my boo She go ahead and walk her dogs and represent Wu To the fullest, you and hon can shoot the fair one, I'll bring the bullets You know what I'm sayin'? Stop playin' You and them dyke-lookin' bitches actin' like y'all jumpin' somethin' Go 'head with that bullshit (Motherfucker) [Chorus: D'Angelo & Method Man] I'm still in love with you, babe (You and I, 'til the day we die) I'm still in love with you, babe I'm still in love with you, babe (You and I, 'til the day we die) I'm still in love with you, babe I'm still in love with you, babe (You and I, 'til the day we die) Little bit of loving you, babe I'm still in love with you, babe (You and I, 'til the day we die) Little bit of loving you, babe Oh, oh, oh, oh [Verse 3: Method Man] Got tired of the games, the lies, the feeble alibis Now you fuckin' with the next guy, a thug nigga Derelict be actin' bugged, nigga Show this nigga mad love, but get no love, nigga? Stupid-ass Plus, I heard that he be beatin' on you I seen him at the club cheatin' on you (Uh) With your best friend, got you stressin' And used up, pull your shoes up All you need's affection But you're headed in the wrong direction Tryna make this nigga jealous, with other fellas All up in my face actin' overzealous (Uh-huh) Like you want somethin' from Meth, I hope it ain't love, girl 'Cause I ain't got none left for you, plus you miserable And misery love company, shit, I'm livin' comfortably Don't need no nigga huntin' me down for fuckin' 'round With his kitty, talk to him Before my brother put a spark through him, won't be pretty The situation got my whole attitude shitty And got you actin' high saditty with your slut committee, you know I know So go find another sucker, yo I been there and been done that befo', and don't need it no mo' That's my word So go to your room with that there, word up And tell that big head nigga you run with to do the same [Chorus: D'Angelo & Method Man] I'm still in love with you, babe (You and I, 'til the day we die) I'm still in love with you, babe ('Cause I can do bad by my motherfuckin' self, you hear me?) I'm still in love with you, babe (You and I, 'til the day we die) I'm still in love with you, babe Every break up I'm still in love with you, babe (You and I, 'til the day we die) Just to make up Little bit of loving you, babe I'm still in love with you, babe (You and I, 'til the day we die) Said that we, yeah Little bit of loving you, babe Baby, please [Outro] Oh, oh, oh, oh (You and I, 'til the day we die) Baby, oh, oh, oh, oh (You and I, 'til the day we die) Baby ************************************************** Straight Gutta[Verse 1: Streetlife] I’m from the killa killa hill, we keep it real consistent For that dollar dollar bill, we will murder you in an instant Fuck what your name is, you’ll be non-existent If you ever try to show any form of resistance I’m strong in the hood. I’m in a good position When I walk they salute, when I talk they all listen You acting the part like you in an audition Where shoot out’s in the parks is a daily tradition This is modern warfare, we play with live ammunition Shot you through your third eye, will change your whole disposition The body never lie, call me the mortician Every death has a story to tell, so pay attention Premonitions on my life, slip the banana clip in Never put your hat on the bed, I’m a little superstitious Got my black suit on, they say I am acting suspicious Big gun in my palm, look like my arm is missing [Hook: Redman] Ayo one MC two MC When my gun out, everybody goes down Word on the street, these boys get butter Fuck with me, nigga, cause this straight gutta Ayo one MC two MC When my gun out, everybody goes down Word on the street, these boys get butter Fuck with me, nigga, cause this straight gutta [Verse 2: Hanz On] Got my black suit on, we get malicious Hanz On checking in for the squad, he on his pivot Got them big guns, make ‘em disappear, call ‘em wizards Will oblige, till you meet your demise, this shit is physics Mr. Barka newest gee on the block, he is the shizit Suffer Mossberg wounds to ya frame, you move a smidgen Hanz rollin with the man he the Meth, pay you a visit Prerequisite have them all in the dirt. They all can get it Used to percolate the crack in the pot, until it dried Now I am occupying spots on your block, that shit is aye And when we popping off the gun at your top, we make it pie You better take another look at your seeds, and holla bye Yo as far as ma’fuckas concerned, yo this is it John Blaze press a button on dudes, they getting hit As far as guns & that street shit go, my niggas fit Hanz on with the cavalry yo, we in the mix [Hook: Redman] Ayo one MC two MC When my gun out, everybody goes down Word on the street, these boys get butter Fuck with me, nigga, cause this straight gutta Ayo one MC two MC When my gun out, everybody goes down Word on the street, these boys get butter Fuck with me, nigga, cause this straight gutta [Verse 3: Redman] I got 28 38’s 48 machine guns Wu-Tang recon, check out the retard I want that boat money carrying my green card Caesar planet of the grapes in the weed jar I'm straight gutta, mind on butta Everything dirty wear a rubber for the come up Block nigga shine like a 5D shutta Red, Hanz & Street run this mother [Verse 4: Method Man] We getting beaucoup scrilla My brothers on their grind Not another Columbine call me new school killa Scoop of French vanilla brought a duce duce with her I might pull a Lil Jon and let the bruce bruce hit her I’ll be gone till November gon' cry me a river You could die, but I figure I’ma try and be the bigger man I and my gorillas, they gonna fry em up for dinner Like them boys from Cypress Hill said (how I could just kill a man) [Hook: Redman] Ayo one MC two MC When my gun out, everybody goes down Word on the street, these boys get butter Fuck with me, nigga, cause this straight gutta ************************************************** If Time Is Money (Fly Navigation)[Intro: Method Man] Uh, yeah Choose a side [Verse: Method Man] Look, vibe with me Rhyme is tricky, who ridin' with me Who kinda miss me can kindly miss me, you kinda iffy Don't know the history? I'm from the city of stop-and-frisk me The cops is jiggy, they spot the blickey then try and get me My pops a Willie, said "Give her fifty, she pop her kitty" He Bad Boy and he Poppa really, it's not a Biggie See my committee, block offici', it's not an ishy Or I'm too lazy to cross roads, if not, I'm busy It's not a mystery who shot Ricky, but where the difference Between the tré and the dough boy, we bred different So bear witness, this can leave you with head missing If y'all can hear me, I guarantee you the feds listening So I be spittin' in barcode, nothin' left in the tap, dog And after the last call, the bar close This my Cohiba, cigar blow Even Tony Stark knows the tension is thick as Wallabee Clark soles But did I mention I'm sick and gotta be hardcore Hard-boiled, taking your base, that's what we ball for Money over bimbos, that's what the Mob for Rappers stuck in limbo 'cause they were settin' the bar low Every time I rhyme on a track, it's like a convo King, we put the nine to your back, it's like you Rondo When it come to John, though, I'ma slaughter a John Doe Drag him through a drive-thru like he ordered the combo Hands on him, we wild style with the cans on him Then come defeat, that's my beliefs and I stand on 'em Give you the beats, no Doc Dre or brands on 'em Some men want 'em, these verses hot and the fans want 'em I'm from the school of them hard knocks with harder standards I've been a hard rock before they added the Arm & Hammers My meth bananas, bogus method, we call it bama Gun on the camera so we can shoot them in panoramas Na-nana-nana, I'm feelin' petty, but watch your manners Use proper grammar so we could stop with the propaganda No type of slander but tell them hoes, "I'm not your Santa" Just want the body, nobody tryin' to pot-and-pan ya Cop scanners, a fuller house but we not the Tanners If shooters bringin' them Hawks out, then it's not Atlanta's [Chorus: Method Man] If time is money, I got time and time saved I pull your blinds and stop shine behind shade Nobody get 'til I got mine, my mind made If time is money, I got time and time saved I pull your blinds and stop shine behind shade Nobody get 'til I got mine, my mind made [Talking: Method Man] Choose a side Math vs Meth, Cival War [Chorus: Method Man] If time is money, I got time and time saved I pull your blinds and stop shine behind shade Nobody get 'til I got mine, my mind made If time is money, I got time and time saved I pull your blinds and stop shine behind shade Nobody get 'til I got mine, my mind made ************************************************** Mr. Sandman[Intro: RZA & Blue Raspberry] This is (Mr. Sandman, bring me a good dream) Serious, the craziest, da-da (Mr. Sandman, bring me a good dream) Day-da, danger, dangerous style [Verse 1: RZA] Lyrical shots from the Glock Bust bullet holes on the charts I want the number one spot What's the science? I'm a giant New York defiant, brutal like domestic violence Silence of the Lambs, occurred when I slammed in Program the jams to be fat as Ralph Kramden Others come with shit as silly as Art Carney But my technique tranquilizes more kids than Barney Remedy for stress is three bags of sess A day at my rest playin' chess, yes My thoughts be sneaky like a crook from Brooklyn When you ain't lookin', I take the queen with the rook then I get vexed, layin' phat tracks on Ampex Puffin' skunk, gettin' drunk off of Triple X Ballantine's, I got more love than Valentine The violent mind, I blast wit' a silent nine [Verse 2: Inspectah Deck & Method Man] My hazardous thoughts to cut the mic's life support short Brains get stained like tablecloths when I let off Powerful poetry pushed past the point of no return Leavin' mics with third-degree burns Let me at 'em, I grip your style like a spasm Drag 'em through the mud then I bag 'em We're screamin' hardcore, hip-hop drips out my pores And I be raw, for four score plus seven more I strike like a bowling ball, holdin' y'all hostage like jail Electrifyin' like the third rail Beats are smashed with paragraphs of ruckus Wu-Tang! Clan ain't nothin' to fuck wit' [Verse 3: Method Man] Hot time, summer in the city My people represent, get busy The heat-seeker, on a mission from hell's kitchen I gets in where I fits in for head-touchin', listen Enemy is the industry, got me flippin' I don't give a fuck! Tell that bitch and her nigga I'm killin', snipin', catchin' murder cases Desert Stormin', I be searchin' for oasis As I run a mile wit' a racist Pullin' swords, hit the Billboard wit' a bullet Peace to the number seven Everybody else get the fo'-nine-three-eleven [Chorus: Method Man & Blue Raspberry] Mr. Sandman, bring me a good dream I don't know what's going on, if you can take us there [Verse 4: Streetlife] Yo, watch me bang the headpiece, there's no survival My flow lights up the block like a homicidal Murder, underground beef for the burger P.L.O., criminal thoughts you never heard of I switch, the city never sleeps, life's a bitch I shit, runnin' through bitches like Emmitt Smith Caution, niggas best to be careful crossin' The street, before they end up layin' in a coffin Don't sleep, niggas tend to forget, however Peep this — my nigga Kase lives forever [Verse 5: Carlton Fisk] What evil lurks in the heart of men? It be the Shadow, street-life, flowin' again I had a plot, scheme, I knew for sure Only one kick would knock the hinges off the door The dread tried to jet, Sabrina at his neck Thirteen pounds on the table plus a tech Just when I said, "Where the fuck's the C.R.E.A.M.?" Another dread came out the kitchen with the M-16 He tried to cock it, blast three shots like rockets Crushed his collarbone, ripped his arm out the socket My move for the table was swift, I got my hostage (The nigga tried to stab you, God!) but I dodged it Niggas said, "Carlton, you's a ill motherfucker" 'Cause I made it look like they both killed each other And I'm out [Chorus: Blue Raspberry] Mr. Sandman, bring me a good dream Mr. Sandman, bring me a good dream [Outro: Method Man & RZA] You know what I'm sayin'? Tical ************************************************** Built For This (2018 Mix)Build For This Remix [Verse 1: Method Man] Sort of like Malcolm at the Audubon They coming for me, time is money no Audemar See bar-for-bar, I keep it pushing no R&R No foreign broads and no promotion for foreign cars The game is ours, let’s keep it funky who said he was Like Staten Island, Italians bleed spaghetti sauce If y'all ain't shaking or stacking than y'all already lost Already cross the light, Christ I'm ready for em Plus anybody that saying no, I’m taking numbers I’m taking names, I’ll take your chain take this hunger Pain, pain, pain Then you feel the thunder and rain I don’t talk it like the rainbow I get it done and the game y’all Do me a favor, don’t ever play with my ball Never been a player-hater I just ain't playing with y'all You watching lame but look I’m taking the charge Going hard will get you two shots now I’m facing the charge [Hook x2: Freddie Gibbs] Fire up the la let’s go take a ride They might catch you by surprise if you let em slide But if you’re built for this shit then you might survive Guess I’ll see you when you wake up on the other side [Verse 2: 2Pac] Now, ever since a nigga was a seed Only thing promised to me was the penitentiary Still ballin', ridin' on these niggas ‘cause they lame In a '61 Chevy, still heavy in this game Can you feel me? Blame it on my mama, I'm a thug nigga Up before the sun rise, quicker than the drug dealers Tell me if it's on, nigga, then we first to bomb, bust On these bitch-made niggas, hit 'em up Westside! Ain't nobody loved me as a broke nigga Finger on the trigger, Lord forgive me if I smoke niggas I love my females strapped, then fuck her from the back I get my currency in stacks, California is where I'm at Ridin', passed by while these niggas wondered why I got shot but didn't die, let 'em see who's next to try Did I cry? Hell nah, nigga, tears shed For all my homies in the pen, many peers dead; a nigga still ballin' [Hook x2: Freddie Gibbs] Fire up the la let’s go take a ride They might catch you by surprise if you let em slide But if you’re built for this shit then you might survive Guess I’ll see you when you wake up on the other side [Verse 3: Ice Cube] The world is mine nigga get back Don't mess with my stack the gauge is racked About to drop the bomb I'm the Westcoast don Big fish in a small pond Now the feds trying to throw they book at the crook But I shook they worm and they hook Guppies hold they breath. They want to miss me when I'm tipsy Running everything westside of the Mississippi Its the unseen, pulling strings with my pinky ring We got your woman, pucker up 'fore we fuck her up Bow down before I make a phone call Got 25 niggas running up on y'all For the cheese we want them keys Everybody freeze on your knees, butt naked please Before any of you guppies get heart Nigga rewind my part fool [Hook x2: Freddie Gibbs] Fire up the la let’s go take a ride They might catch you by surprise if you let em slide But if you’re built for this shit then you might survive Guess I’ll see you when you wake up on the other side [Verse 4: 2Pac] Now everybody wanna see us dead Two murdered on the front page Shot to death, bullets to the head Niggas holla out my name and it's similar to rape Motherfuckers know I'm comin', so they runnin' to they graves Watch! Swoop down with my nigga from the Pound ‘Cause Trick don't give a fuck Where you coward niggas now? Blast, keep pumpin', ain't worried about nothin' Busters thought we was frontin' So reload and keep dumpin'; still ballin' [Verse 5: Eazy-E] Seven-thousand, four hundred, twenty three grains Of sand drop from the hourglass It's how much time I got left on this planet Some motherfucker's gotta die! I'm an evil motherfucker ready to tear shit up I'm gonna put these things on you, and never let up See, my momma...she was wrong when I was born That a nigga like E should'a never been born Too late, big mistake in '72 It's '92, now the year of code blue 15 hours..11 minutes..30 seconds I'm a motherfuckin' wreck Gonna pay back niggas who did me wrong in the past My days ain't long I'm comin' strong and fast Lock up 8 niggs..kill up 10 pigs Innocent and fuckers are also dyin, too Now what else can I do? Fuck, fuck, fuck and plant my seeds Leavin' kids in this world like me The lunatic psycho mutherfucka Eazy-E [Hook x2: Freddie Gibbs] Fire up the la let’s go take a ride They might catch you by surprise if you let em slide But if you’re built for this shit then you might survive Guess I’ll see you when you wake up on the other side ************************************************** Biscuits[Intro] What? What you want? Represent represent represent Yeah, represent, check it out check it out [Hook] Yo mama don't wear no drawers! I saw her when she took them off! Standing on the welfare line Eating swine trying to look fine, with her stank behind You can ask the bitch and she'll tell ya fast Meth-Tical got STYLE with his nasty ass [Verse 1] Are you ready, to face the consequences and suffer? I even tell ya momma you ain't shit, motherfucker Bring it, and let that killer bee kid sting it And rep-resent, it's like heads up a brick, when I swing it Get lost, I break you off something I'm pumping, like a Reebok, with a pump From the jump and, you was nothing Bet you thought you fucking clan had ya back but they was fronting Smoking dirt blunts and fucking nasty sluts and You just a naked gun without the bullet, what you busting Get your ship sunken, fucking with a drunken Master disaster at any rap functions [Interlude] Just an echo, yoo-hoo We be living in the valley yoo-hoo It may be difficult to bring back Sweet memories of you And you can even ask your crew Bet your bottom dollar that they tell ya fast Meth-Tical got STYLE with his nasty ass [Verse 2] Who said the Wu-Tang Clan? Was it you or your man? You wanna point the finger, I'll bring ya 36 chambers, be out, you'se in danger Let me pull your brain out your ass with a hanger Didn't momma tell ya not to talk to a stranger? Now ya got ya neck, in the noose, of the strangler Just recline, keep the Meth in mind I'll even test the knuckle check on the hands of time What? And I'll be more than glad to bust that ass All up and down the block, the street, that ave Whatever, smoking on a Spike Lee joint Hey I'm Mo' Better, I'm hoping niggas get the point Cause they could never, stop the veteran, word to God When I'm severing the head of a mental vegetarian The Method, at the weed gate, with a long line of credit If you desire fire, I be the first to set it Off, flame on like the Human Torch Fantastic Four for all the fans in the store You can eat it all and it'll tell you fast Meth-Tical got STYLE for your nasty ass [Outro] 94 baby, word up, recognize, recognize Wu-Tang killer bee The RZA and the Method MZA Raider Ruckus, where you at? ************************************************** Judgement Day[Intro: Method Man] First, there was the collapse of civilization Anarchy, genocide, starvation Then, when it seemed like shit couldn't get any more fucked up We got the Plague, the Living Death Closing his icy grip around the whole planet Then the rumors started The last hardcore MCs were working on the cure, that would end the pestilence Why? I like the death I like the misery I like this world The Final Frontier These are the voyages of the Starship Tical [Verse 1: Method Man] As I walk in the shadow of death Sixteen men on a dead man's chest Your host this evening, Mr H-O-T N-I-X, you get splashed with the TEC Nobody go 'til the god say so You got a second or more to run for the door Before I blow back off the map, contact You didn't know Stat' could get down like that Who want them test rocket launcher, yes Mr. Meth, hold the fort, most def Cats is dead wrong, song's too long Get swung on, can't we all get along? See my pinkie, see my thumb See that kid with the pump shotgun? Bust your gums, leave your whole shit numb Hmm, now what's this? Smell like fish Mr. Big Mouth, the gat be trout You need to douche out your style, no doubt Johnny struck through the Shaolin slum Prum-prum-prum on my Shaolin drum Niggas don't dare to step in the square Kids ain't playing over here, playa Only one way, and that's my way Grim Reaper calling, Judgement Day [Chorus] Ten let the countdown begin Nine, I was born in the mind Eight, take the head of a snake Seven, behold Armageddon Six, ain't no love for the rich Five, only strong will survive Four, 'cause we live by the sword Three, plus sixty degrees Two, for the black and the blue One, for the sun Step into millennium [Verse 2: Method Man] The name of this one is "Judgement Day" No more B.S., can't come out and play Don't blame me, blame society Type of chemistry for a live MC Hands in the air like you just don't care You all get a share, there's a party over here Year 2000, keep bouncin' T-Minus, thirty seconds and countin' New York's finest, still wilding Shaolin, at the full moon howling Get 'til it's gone, Killa Bee kills Only time will reveal like the words in the song 'Cause love's what I feel for my crew, bust steel Niggas don't got to pay my bills P.L.O., pack the slingshot flow Plant the seed, let the garden grow And stick that rhyme where the sun don't shine Darts pierce your heart like the Valentine This my "Tale From the Crypt," that's sick Bloodbath, body bags and shit UFC fighting championships G.I. Joes with the kung-fu grip Now you don't dare, to step in the square Kids ain't playing over here, playa Only one way, and that's my way Grim Reaper calling, Judgement Day Come on, I said come on [Chorus] Ten let the countdown begin Nine, I was born in the mind Eight, take the head of a snake Seven, behold Armageddon Six, ain't no love for the rich Five, only strong will survive Four, 'cause we live by the sword Three, plus sixty degrees Two, for the black and the blue One, for the sun Step into millennium [Verse 1: Method Man] As I walk in the shadow of death Sixteen men on a dead man's chest Your host this evening, Mr H-O-T N-I-X, you get splashed with the TEC Nobody go 'til the god say so You got a second or more to run for the door Before I blow back off the map, contact You didn't know Stat' could get down like that Who want them test rocket launcher, yes Mr. Meth, hold the fort, most def Cats is dead wrong, song's too long Get swung on, can't we all get along? See my pinkie, see my thumb See that kid with the pump shotgun? Bust your gums, leave your whole shit numb Hmm, now what's this? Smell like fish Mr. Big Mouth, the gat be trout You need to douche out your style, no doubt Johnny struck through the Shaolin slum Prum-prum-prum on my Shaolin drum Niggas don't dare to step in the square Kids ain't playing over here, playa Only one way, and that's my way Grim Reaper calling, Judgement Day [Chorus] Ten let the countdown begin Nine, I was born in the mind Eight, take the head of a snake Seven, behold Armageddon Six, ain't no love for the rich Five, only strong will survive Four, 'cause we live by the sword Three, plus sixty degrees Two, for the black and the blue One, for the sun Step into millennium (Uh, uh) [Outro] Ten Nine Eight Seven Six Five Four Three Two One Step into millennium (Uh, uh) Let the countdown begin I was born in the mind Take the head of a snake Behold Armageddon Ain't no love for the rich Only strong will survive 'Cause we live by the sword Plus sixty degrees For the black and the blue For the sun Judgement Day ************************************************** Got to Have It[Intro: Method Man] Sing it bitch... oh boy... Niggas... ha-ha... ladies... yeah Oh boy, come on... yeah... This is just a few of them things that I ("got to have") yeah [Method Man] I got to have that new shit, new whip, blue six, now who this? Windows half down, bumping Wu shit, the truth is This is just a few of them things that I ("got to have") hell yeah I got to have them big props, big rocks, glisten in the wrist watch Tick-tock, and make a pit stop to cop a zip-lock This is just a few of them things that I ("got to have") fuck yeah I got to have that seat next to Oprah, Bentley with the chaffeur Rum and cola spilling on a million dollar sofa This is just a few of them things that I ("got to have") hell yeah I got to have my next pair of fresh Air's, dress me in the best wears Meth, yeah, want respect, then he want his check cleared This is just a few of them things that I ("got to have") fuck yeah [Hook: Method Man] Now if it's something I, want, no need for me to front Why stunt? Better notify them niggas from the dump Oh, yeah, I got to have it (have it) And, oh, yo, I got to have it (have it) If it's something I, need, don't have to beg or pleed My weed, got 'em high, just look at they eyes bleed Oh, yeah, I got to have it (have it) And, oh, yo, I got to have it (have it) [Method Man] Yeah, I got to have that mansion and the yacht The room to park the phantom on the yacht E, watch me leave them haters on the dock, yeah This is just a few of them things that I ("got to have") damn right I got to have them pop bottles, shots hollow, plus the next top model Staring down they nostrils in them Ferragamo goggles This is just a few of them things that I ("got to have") fuckin' a' I got to have a new spot to live, a few props to give One for each verse I did, with 2Pac and B.I.G., y'all This is just a few of them things that I ("got to have") damn right I got have V.S. cuts, a jet plus, a marijuana dealer with the best stuff You know that Meth puff, y'all, and guess what? This is just a few of them things that I ("got to have") fuckin' a [Hook] [Method Man] I got to have the fast car, the crash bar, place to stash the heaters In the dash board, and then I need no limits on that black card This is just a few of them things that I ("got to have") hell yea I got to have them verses and them hooks, plus a little paper off the books And a Playboy bunny that can cook, nigga This is just a few of them things that I ("got to have") fuck yea I got to have the first glass in first class, button up Cavalli On the shirt tag, and honey with that Louis on the purse bag This is just a few of them things that I ("got to have") hell yea I got to have them hardcore beats, and Loose Linx that all play for keeps When we mobbing on these New York streets, nigga This is just a few of them things that I ("got to have") fuck yea [Hook 2X] ************************************************** Sweet Love[Produced by True Master] [Intro: Streetlife] Excuse me gorgeous.. [Verse 1: Streetlife] Just maxing, looking for hoes, y'know, relaxing Met this redbone Jasmine, midtown Manhattan Shot a verb, that tranked her nerves, calm words Massaged the mentals, made her pussycat purr Sweet Love you look miraculous, brown-eyed passionate High cheek-boned, Tommy Girl cologne you smashing it Jump in, take a spin, destination Staten I have you home by ten, shorty started laughing She replied, "Street, you ever ride while you drive?" I looked puzzled, and said, "Nah baby, why?" She pressed up, grabbed my dick, threw her dress up Cocked her legs, cold fucked my head up Now I'm deep in it, flying past the speed limit Out of control, still whipping it, steadily hitting it Deep stroking, one hand on the wheel, blunt smoking Loving how it feel, sweet Love you got me open, what? [Verse 2: Cappadonna] Love is love, love, love is love, love Love is love, love, love is love, love We connected like a train from the first ordeal I stepped to her with the passion as I kept things real But like, sex was on my mind like, cum was in my pants I flashed my fronts on her, like if I had a chance She said, "Ain't you Cappadonna from the Wu-Tang Clan?" I said, "Yeah, mad gear plus the small white van Sweet Love, I want your pussy can I be your man? Stripped to the bare essentials let me fuck you if I can Sweet Love, from your nipples to your pussy nub" Sweet Love, love is Love, love is love Love [Verse 3: Method Man] It's a full moon, we in the bedroom Thoughts consumed by the passion Slow jam tunes and body action My finger's on the clit splashing Your pussy lips got you spazzing Love juices, marinating in your satins Sexy ass, I gets 'em like my old dad I love my women bad With just a little touch of class You'se the star by far, look at you ma Shake your thang-thang girlfriend, you cherchez la femme Whattup, went to beat it up, I'm not the one to eat it up But the type to hit it raw dawg and seed it up We talk without sayin nuttin' You told me if I came through you'd gimme som'thin' Now we locking ass, pulling hair and talking trash How you like it, slow or fast? She said, "I like it when it last" No doubt, you got the best trout there can be Not an everyday, average, Chicken of the Sea Candidate for H.I.V, you'd rather deal with monogamy Queen to be held, Black Mahogany You're 'bout to bust damn it Sugar walls coming down, now you can't stand it You've been touched That's when I felt the blood rush Getting closer and closer with every thrust, take me there Volcano's about to erupt, I love you much Watch these rap niggas get all up in your guts ************************************************** G’d Up[Intro: Method Man] Allah Math, dig it [Verse 1: Method Man] My block is G'd up, the cops is racist Staircases is peed up, haters get beat up Woman are getting eat up Look at this paper don't need much But still need a calculator to keep up Je-sus; I'm doing me, B.I.G Hit Lil Cease up after I hit this tree up Me, I get my cheese up Puff the buddha, I get my Chi up My team in the building until the lease up Look, you think this method ain't pro-lific then pro-hibit See, I'm the witted but like my daddy, no different A go-getter, I go get it, now go figure Without no figures, no gold cards, no gold diggers To quote Jigga, I goes hard, I blow Swishers I blow that trigger, your whole squad can go wit'cha Ay, Dio mío, I'm a hell of a flow spitter You ain't my people, I don't care if you know RZA 'Cause at the end of the day I'm a problem, boy, stay out of my way Now if you see me in the streets, you better give me my space And if I beat you to the punch, I punch you dead in your face [Pre-Hook Sample] Murder niggas, luxurious, banks I was draped Caked out The Corleone connection in all selection Murder niggas, luxurious, banks I was draped Caked out The Corleone connection in all selection Murder niggas, luxurious, banks I was draped Caked out The Corleone connection in all selection Take over, quick fast, violate, slap shit And every borough, state, town, prison, map shit [Hook: Mzee Jones] Drink sippin', no slippin', weed, women No kidding, big business, tops missing Ice glisten, clear vision, keep wishin' Welcome to the big boy life Bottle popping, no stopping, haters watching Speaker knocking, shorty hoppin', rollie copin' Wig rockin', big talking, cash dropping Welcome to the big boy life - yeah [Verse 2: R-Mean] Yeah, yeah, yo, yeah We known to do this The flow is losing, it's so abusive Was born a Christian but Joe the truth is that dough is Jewish I over do this, fuck a moderation Homie we focused, my camp Auschwitz with the concentration Meth-Tical, R-Dash, Allah Math Step in my shoes and leave footprints in God's path These surfaces try to divert us away from a higher purpose I look emcees in their eyes, you looking kind of nervous But we knowing the mean, the leader's showing ya King of kings, Haile Selassie, Ethiopia Blunt condition chronic and I don't mean that pneumonia So shorty you and your friend I'm bout to leave with the both of ya She tell me that she need me They always come right back Bitches get repo'd quicker than Tyga's Lamborghini We eating lobster and shrimp Rappers is Ramadan Too raw, I shouldn't spit without a condom on The type of rookie that's respected by the veterans 'Cause dog I ain't a rookie, I'm a motherfucking veteran Light up the medicine, just know you've been warned 'Cause when the killer bees starting to swarm, you know it's on [Pre-Hook Sample] Murder niggas, luxurious, banks I was draped Caked out The Corleone connection in all selection Murder niggas, luxurious, banks I was draped Caked out The Corleone connection in all selection Murder niggas, luxurious, banks I was draped Caked out The Corleone connection in all selection Take over, quick fast, violate, slap shit And every borough, state, town, prison, map shit [Hook: Mzee Jones] Drink sippin', no slippin', weed, women No kidding, big business, tops missing Ice glisten, clear vision, keep wishin' Welcome to the big boy life Bottle popping, no stopping, haters watching Speaker knocking, shorty hoppin', rollie copin' Wig rockin', big talking, cash dropping Welcome to the big boy life - yeah ************************************************** Uh Huh"Bus driver -- this here gal refused to give me her seat!" [Intro: Method Man] Everybody... huh, yeah Yeah, uh, uh, uh, now, uh, yeah, yo [Verse 1: Method Man] What up my people equal?, this be Tical: The Prequel Shine up the desert eagle, light up that extra lethal I mean that "ooh wee", three years and two g's I'm back with new trees, I wrapped in loose leafs While y'all was just rappin', who get the set crackin'? Just like a neck snappin', let's get this next platinum What's happ'n Def Jam? Remember Meth Man? I held your hand through them years when y'all was stressed, fam That's why I still love you and Russell still hustle Let's get to pumpin' iron, and flex some real muscle Up in this bitch due, my click is Rick Rude And I ain't got the ivory, this ain't the flick, dude Somebody told me, y'all can't hold me Naughty By Nature, do my dirt all by my lonely You need back off bitch, you don't know me Got to leave these hoes alone, they too nosey [Chorus: Method Man] Meth is killin', M.C. killin' What more can I say, stop grillin' That's what niggas get for actin' Hollywood And since y'all understood... would you? Would you? Would you? Would you? Uh huh, that dollar day, that dollar dollar day, ey That dollar day, that dollar dollar day, ey [Verse 2: Method Man] Ok, the love issue, don't let that love get you My brothers love pistol, doin' they thug dizzle Bet y'all ain't know, did you? That I'm a pro, did you? Until the flow hit you, fuck it, I'm official Bone wit more gristle, thrown from chrome nickel Place that don't tickle, can't wait to zone wit you I'm hard as stone chisel, Meth got his own little Formula to go triple -- for shizzle Y'all know my occupation, I'm puttin' in the work So any imitation, I'm puttin' in the dirt That shit is aggravatin', why y'all procrastinatin' I got some massive waitin', and she probably masturbatin' Welcome to New Yitty, where half is two fifty If I got a problem, then that's one problem too many So don't tempt me, I'll bust until I'm empty Swiftly, that way, I get the chance to take you with me, muthafucka! [Chorus] Meth is killin', M.C. killin' What more can I say, stop grillin' That's what niggas get for actin' Hollywood And since y'all understood... would you? Would you? Would you? Would you? Uh huh, that dollar day, that dollar dollar day, ey That dollar day, that dollar dollar day, ey [Verse 3: Method Man] Yo, I got style, H rap round, back up and back down Act up, we back clown, last up to bat now It's me Ticallion, swing like Barry Bonds Mommy got a ratty thong, happy cuz daddy gone Turn it up it a little bit, a notch, and it'll get Cook it once the griddle gets so hot, good lookin' kid Ok, now where was I? Prepared, was I Your man broke his jaw tryin' to say what I Say on this mic, not a day in your life, could ya Say I ain't nice, could ya? If I ain't nice, would ya? Get off my dick and tell your bitch to come her, she stuntin' Can hear me "cummin'" like my dick's in her ear or somethin' I put that on my momma, she put that on her kids He put that chrome on your dome and blowed ya fuckin' wig That's how it is, ask Bobby Dig' We back on your block, with 'nuff shots to give, muthafucka! [Chorus] Meth is killin', M.C. killin' What more can I say, stop grillin' That's what niggas get for actin' Hollywood And since y'all understood... would you? Would you? Would you? Would you? Uh huh, that dollar day, that dollar dollar day, ey That dollar day, that dollar dollar day, ey Meth is killin', M.C. killin' What more can I say, stop grillin' That's what niggas get for actin' Hollywood And since y'all understood... would you? Would you? Would you? Would you? Uh huh, that dollar day, that dollar dollar day, ey That dollar day, that dollar dollar day, ey ************************************************** The Purple Tape[Intro: Method Man] I, fifty-eight, fifty-seven Yeah, got you A'ight, ayy [Verse 1: Method Man] Lace your boots up, tracks get looped up The chocolate deluxe gets scooped up All my pigeons is cooped up, Wu's up, W's up If y'all ain't with us, chuck a deuce up, and let us do us Break a promise but not my group up Veterans is dying and used up Let's see if they can hang, I'm already tying the snoose up (Ah) I'm too hot, if you not, get you stuffed (Stuffed) Get you touched and get you shot or you cut (Damn) Young buck, I'm just trying to toughen you up (Yeah) Can't let you hustle with us, y'all ain't struggled enough (Nah) Y'all been cuddled too much, maybe mothered too much So the burner giving out loans, here's a couple of bucks Had a couple of scuffs, I ain't saying I'm perfect (Yeah) And I ain't cursing the rhyme but I wrote it in cursive (Woo) Quote the verses, boy I flow with a purpose Get that prometh' and the soda, come with the purchase [Chorus: Method Man & Rae Smith] Who is that up in the building? Hashtag we still win Raekwon, no relation to Chef though, but still trend My youngin' tell 'em it's them Wu-Tang is for the children They bugging, tell 'em again Wu-Tang is for the children [Verse 2: Raekwon] Lab with the pole, she slide down, I'm in the basement counting faces Drunk on the slouch, count the spaceships Jewelry to my knee caps, breathe stacks whores & sleestacks H-S-B see me getting g-packs, herringbones, mad stones in 'em The voice is olive green, three doors, I'm on and bring my goons home Puma's on, points like unicorns, fuming in uniforms What you wanna do with me? Just sue me homes Yeah, half Mike, half Nike, handle got grip Got monkey's out here ready to flip We pull a stunt, grab knots, push cops, just for vengeance For killing that real shit independence Far glowing like blonde hair, probably where the way it be rolling Let's catch a check y'all, bring the broads here Until the sun burn out, ain't nobody eating (Nigga) We on your block now, Glock up or call the precinct [Chorus: Method Man & Rae Smith] Who is that up in the building? Hashtag we still win Raekwon, no relation to Chef though, but still trend My youngin' tell 'em it's them Wu-Tang is for the children They bugging, tell 'em again Wu-Tang is for the children Who is that up in the building? Hashtag we still win Raekwon, no relation to Chef though, but still trend My youngin' tell 'em it's them Wu-Tang is for the children They bugging, tell 'em again Wu-Tang is for the children [Verse 3: Inspectah Deck] Deck performing on the track, call him Jeff Gordon I'm still buzzin', this is Hennessey the next morning They upset talking, I'm yes y'allin for checks Boss on the set, you acting like my ex calling Ain't that a bitch, not the five or the six I rock seven on my back, that's Kaepernick I dazzle like a magic trick, fabulous swordsmen Sort of like abortion, I ain't having it S-I ready for action, heavily cashing We set for whatever, what's happening? Cold like the weather in Aspen, flow everlasting Four, five, six, your head's crackin' Just a fifth of E&J, plus a eighth of green No promethazine but I make 'em lean I'm running with the real, y'all chasing dreams While the crowd go wild for they favorite team [Chorus: Method Man & Rae Smith] Who is that up in the building? Hashtag we still win Raekwon, no relation to Chef though, but still trend My youngin' tell 'em it's them Wu-Tang is for the children They bugging, tell 'em again Wu-Tang is for the children Who is that up in the building? Hashtag we still win Raekwon, no relation to Chef though, but still trend My youngin' tell 'em it's them Wu-Tang is for the children They bugging, tell 'em again Wu-Tang is for the children ************************************************** Dirty Mef[Intro: Method Man (Ol' Dirty Bastard)] Expect the unexpected, motherfucker, let's go, come on Yeah, M-E-F, hahahaha, special guest (Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you, fuck) Hahahaha.. yeah.. [Ol' Dirty Bastard] Yo, you don't wanna ride with Dirt, you still stuck in coach You don't wanna fly in first, yo, I can spit One verse, and leave in a new Benz vert Take a trip down south and put some hoes to work, you hear me Dirt McGirt, you niggas gon' respect it I'm drunk and crunk so don't come in my direction I'm ready to thump, and get the whole crew arrested Bail 'em out, and laugh about it in Texas, yo And get with Rome, down in Caki-Lac And hit the spot, in the hood where the happenings at Where the shootin' and the fightings and the stabbings at Where the Lincolns and the Chevys and the Cadi's at, shit Them down south niggas been loved Dirt Take a shot to the head, if you been through the worse Show respect to your niggas, who been doin' it first And be comin' with that shit, I'm just doin' the worse [Hook 2X: Ol' Dirty Bastard (Method Man)] Yo, you don't wanna ride with Dirt, you still stuck in coach You don't wanna fly in first, yo, I can spit (Yo, you don't wanna ride with Meth, you still sniffing coke Even if you tried your best, yo, I can spit) [Method Man] Yeah, damn, I'm just like Dirt in the booth I'm the truth, I don't need to go to church in a suit Each verse is the proof, I drink a 100 Proof Cop searching the coup, I got some herb in my boot When Wu is coming through, the outcome: critical Fucking with this style, the outcome: get physical Meth get lyrical, and y'all can get my genitals Don't forget them 8 essentials, vitamins & minerals Heh, ya'meen, I'm taking one for the team Like Martin Luther King, taking one for a dream I'm dope, to many fiends, live by many means If you don't stand for nothing, you'll fall for anything That's real shit, let's get this money real quick Dirt Dog, I'm feeling this, but I'd rather feel rich I mean filthy rich, I'm corporate now Big Meth, the label's Def, that's why I talk so loud, nigga [Hook 2X] [Hook 2X<: Ol' Dirty Bastard] Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you, fuck you Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you, fuck... ************************************************** Method Man (Remix)[Intro] Fat dub sack! Remix of Method Man for ya one time. Yeah [Hook] M-E-T, H-O-D, Man M-E-T, H-O-D, Man M-E-T, H-O-D, Man M-E-T, H-O-D, Man [Verse 1] Hey you get off my cloud See me get raw with my southpaw style Mover, puffin' on a fat blunt from Cuba It's the Meth-Tical jet to Cal, I'm the Buddha Monk on the hunt for machine gun funk I gets you open like a slug from the shotgun pump Double-barrel, yeah Meth bring it to them proper Partner, you ain't got no wins in mi casa Straight up, you movin' too fast so baby wait up Took one, added seven more now you eight up Get on down wit' your bad self Get on down, listen to the sound, come on Few can ever get this ultimate legit See you all up in my ass But you don't know shit, uh-huh What's your definition of a real emcee From what you dedicated, hey it must be me Meth-Tical, a rude descendant of the loud hip-hop I go on to the break of dawn, and just don't stop Give me the green light, and the sign one way Have you had your meth today? Huh, move it in, move it out Stick it in, pull it out Shake it up, shake it down Come on down, Meth-Tical Oh I hope and pray that I will But today I am still Just a... [Hook] M-E-T, H-O-D, Man M-E-T, H-O-D, Man M-E-T, H-O-D, Man M-E-T, H-O-D, Man [Verse 2] Rrrappers can't get with the style, extra wicked Rap flow is bangin' like butter on a biscuit A tisket, a tasket I'm not tryin' to have it Might show up, stun 'em and run 'em when they raggin' Those who test it, respect it, the method You know I can't be messed with, I'm hectic, accept it I'll break it down, I get down for my crown Filthy, dirty like a worm underground Tryin' to avoid the early bird, that's my word Before I kick the bucket I'm a kick 'em to the curb Check out the cloud, smoked out from the mouth Other brothers got mad fly, flew south for the (winter) Hey, enter the square if you dare Without a flaw, I'm so raw that I'm rare I'm goin' to the country, I'm goin' to the fair To see the senorita, with flowers in her hair And get mine, cause she love me long time Bartender bring more wine Get in line for the... [Hook] M-E-T, H-O-D, Man M-E-T, H-O-D, Man M-E-T, H-O-D, Man Here I am, here I am, the Method Man [Outro] Wu-Tang, killer bees on the swarm, it ain't safe no more P.L.O. Style. 1993 to '94, the rugged raw And we out (Sample from Shaolin & Wu-Tang) It's our secret! Never teach the Wu-tang ************************************************** We Some Dogs[Hook: Mr. Porter] If I'm a dog, then we some dogs We all gunna chase cats, tell them dog Girl don't waste that swallow it all We just some dogs, we just some dogs If I'm a dog, then we some dogs We all gunna chase cats, tell them dog Girl don't waste that swallow it all We just some dogs, we just some dogs [Verse 1: Method Man] By any means necessary, it's on Bitch, your fucking with a dog, all I wanna do is bury some bones Take a piss on a tree and I'm gone Girlfriend don't get it wrong I hate to be the one to shit on your lawn But I ain't got my dog license I ain't nothing nice And I ain't never met a piece of pussy I ain't liking Sugar and spicing Kicked up with ice and You can do anything with these hoes Except housewife them Like snoop said "it ain't nothing but a G thing" Got a bitch in my bed, in nothing but a g-string, so peep game Who the lucky female to taste these Snips and snails and puppy dog tails huh? You're messing with me, I'm messing with you I'm a dog trick I chase cats like Peppy La Pu Dead on shit My life's like a Holiday Inn If my girl act up I'm gunna fuck her friend If I'm a what... [Hook: Mr. Porter] If I'm a dog, then we some dogs We all gunna chase cats, tell them dog Girl don't waste that swallow it all We just some dogs, we just some dogs If I'm a dog, then we some dogs We all gunna chase cats, tell them dog Girl don't waste that swallow it all We just some dogs, we just some dogs [Verse 2: Redman] I'm a dog motherfucker, I walk on all fours Find where you live at, shit on your porch, Redman is hungry Don't leave the food out, I'm pumped like a Pamela Anderson boob job Straight up bulldog, mixed with a Shizhsu Cause I bullshit, party a little bit Swim with the shark, you're bound to drown My weed is like green, and yours brown The doctor the dog, from Cali to Georgia When cats meow with noting on top they halter I don't have Yesmen that laugh when I laugh We some dogs, we can kiss our own ass Like a golden retriever, retrieving the chronic The dose nose bitch, and no need to hide it - Redman a flirt Always get my nuts stuck to the porch, like the dog on Joe Dirt [Hook: Mr. Porter] If I'm a dog, then we some dogs We all gunna chase cats, tell them dog Girl don't waste that swallow it all We just some dogs, we just some dogs If I'm a dog, then we some dogs We all gunna chase cats, tell them dog Girl don't waste that swallow it all We just some dogs, we just some dogs [Verse 3: Snoop Dogg] Fish don't fry in the kitchen, bitch don't climb, keep bitching Beans don't burn on the grill, 3, 4, 5 With the pimping, hoes get your pimps permission Now pay attention, the big D-O double to the G-O To the liquor store to crack a ho and get some VO (VO) And mix it with some pena colidino Then slip it on the bitch then I dip with all her c-notes Scandalous, yep bitch cause we know Every pretty ho always down to pull a d-low On me? No, so there won't be no shaking me down, breaking me down, here we go You know I'm just oh so slick The way you chew that bubble gum, the way you sucking a dick And I can tell, that you a freak I wanna stick some dick up in you can I skeet, skeet Don't you know why? [Hook: Mr. Porter] If I'm a dog, then we some dogs We all gunna chase cats, tell them dog Girl don't waste that swallow it all We just some dogs, we just some dogs If I'm a dog, then we some dogs We all gunna chase cats, tell them dog Girl don't waste that swallow it all We just some dogs, we just some dogs If I'm a dog, then we some dogs We all gunna chase cats, tell them dog Girl don't waste that swallow it all We just some dogs, we just some dogs If I'm a dog, then we some dogs We all gunna chase cats, tell them dog Girl don't waste that swallow it all We just some dogs, we just some dogs ************************************************** The Meth Lab[Intro] I'll give you three seconds to come out wit' your hands up, one, two This is my own private domicile I will not be harassed, motherfucker! [Verse 1: Method Man] Welcome to the Meth Lab, listen, it's time to cook Not confessions of a video vixen, we by the book Start the fire, I can tell what you thinkin' just by a look I'm a crook, like some fish in a barrel, I got 'em hooked Blame the Method, your sanity took, go 'head, admit it You a meth head that live on the edge, just need a push I'm your pusher, supplier, I'm back, the cheese on the wire If a snitch burnin', wouldn't even piss on the fire Now you kids learnin', I ain't tryin' to preach to the choir Now the kids earnin' like them dealers that he admire Got that whip workin' like I'm sacrificin' a virgin That's a burden, but I'm certain you're feelin' it, after you try You can't deny I cook a batch like, 'Woo' Hazardous material, you'd need a hazmat suit Now you lookin' at me like, 'What's a hazmat suit?' Somethin' used to move a body, you don't have that loop [Bridge 1] Let's talk about trust I told you not to cook my recipe And you went ahead and did it anyway Cause I never said I wouldn't cook it Cause it ain't yours, it's ours, bitch [Verse 2: Hanz On] Hookers in the kitchen, chemistry is the best recipe Especially this shit, I'm takin' on bets Pressure cookers, percolate 'em like chefs Meth labs here to the West, wools on them gear trims grassed Mr. Barker, General, front and center (What up?) Got them burners wit' them bodies on them, have me in cuffs Killer's focused, slam it up in them trucks Eyes low, grippin' the toast, trigger finger, playin' it close You think it's a game? It's imperative, we show 'em we live These niggas playin' wit' this money, funny how niggas die They say it's over when the fat kid cry, ratchets fly here to the Chi' [Bridge 2] You think you can stop me from cookin'? You cook whatever you like, as long it's that B work These niggas be runnin' around in the street wit' everyday Don't even think about usin' my grade A You should try and stop me, bitch [Verse 3: Streetlife] I'm in the meth lab concoctin' another concoction Decisions, decisions, just weighin' my options The formula highly addictive, it's habit forming Side effects life-threatenin', the surgeon's warnin' I write a prescription just for meth abusers Regulate your dose intake for heavy users For generations, I been servin' these rap fiends Babies born addicted to the metric, know what I mean? You're recoverin', but you still use frequently So wet your court hearin', judge show some leniency Can't escape old habits, so you copy the new shit Wit' your kids in your cars, see, pumpin' that Wu shit We worldwide, supply and demand, I got the upper-hand Check my passport, global support Informant lands non-commercial goods, that raw and uncut That got them breakin' bad at the gate for the re-up [Outro: Method Man and Streetlife] What up, Street? Yo, what up, man? We gon' put some "Welcome to the meth lab" on there Man, you know, it's straight gutter shit, nigga Yeah, you ready to get 'em this time? Yeah, always, man Alright, so I'm a leave it up to you Go 'head, show 'em what you got ************************************************** Sub Crazy[Method Man] Aight? Check it out (FUCK DAT!) Word, niggas smoke too fuckin' much man (Check it out y'all, check it check it out) [Intro/Hook] We can all get by if we want now Get a fat piece of the pie if we want Motherfuckers gettin' mad high when they want now I will survive, recognize it be Tical [Verse One] What up, ock? Niggas is strapped, ready for war On the ill block, things just ain't peace no more Fuck it - if you ain't with me then forget me Niggas tried to stick me, retaliation, no hesitation shifty (bitch) Creepin' niggas in the dark, triggers with no heart Rippin' ass apart, I be swimmin' with the sharks now (yeah) Stay out my water or it's manslaughter Kid, you oughta start reachin' for that nickle-plated auto- Matic (f'real) my thoughts get sporadic (uh) Loaded raps bustin' mad shots to ya attic (woo!) They say this hazardous flow's a hazard Straight from Hazzard County with a bounty on his head And it said: "Wanted Dead or Alive" I swear by the whites of they eyes To never take a dive I will survive [Hook] [Method Man] Eeep opp, epp awpp, baaaaaaa Here we go, start [Verse Two] Shit's gonna happen if niggas start actin' Like they want problems. You want 'em? You got 'em Rap contact, is writin' this exact- Ly, the way it should, be, attack Killer Beeeees on the swarm Alaikum as-salaam, drops bombs like Qur'an The ism helps to stimulate my pugilism I bust rhymes like jism Impregnate the rhythm with the wisdom Decipher, the stee, I be hyper I dwindle the style, that rekindle like old flamesss Sssssssaliva, check the wicked flows I delyvah Oops, I mean delivers like the Hudson River Styles be trite, trife like a thief in the night I be that sneaky-ass nigga bustin' nuts in yo wife Blasted, buggin' off Bacardi and acid Flippin' on the mic, it's a classic ************************************************** I Get My Thang in Action[Intro:] "Good.. Wu-Tang martial expert There's not many, who can match up with him" (He'll give you a heart condition If you fuck around like that there Tell you it ain't no good for the bloodstream You know god damn whatever and uhh It's dumb and big -- it's DUMB AND BIG) Mira, Meth-Tical comin through with the suu (Lie in cut for y'all) Check it out [Verse 1] Niggas wanna test my steez, nigga please I black that eye like peas, you better freeze In your tracks, a Wu-Tang (bzzz) killer bee's on ya back I comes for the honey plus the phat money sack You want it all? Yeah I want it all like THAT I stab my own moms in the back for a stack Niggas like, "Damn, why you want it like that?" (Why is that?) Cause I'm a dog, and I got no love for the cat (uhh) Attitude's cold like the North polar cap Where I do my dirt's a little further down the map (Is that so?) A little buck wilding, Island called Stat' Where niggas carry gats in they Black Moon hat Now I'm mad known for the bones and the rap And you's an unknown with a faulty contract Wake up and smell the Met-chod motherfucker contact Villain in the cypher from the foe when head crack An Indian giver and I'm out to take it back Shaolin Island, baby where you at? A runaway train that be runnin on ya track That's how it's goin down, yeah, it's goin down I gets my thang in action To live, to love, to see, to learn Yo! Tell em what's happenin! (What's happenin? I'll tell yo' ass what's happenin Tell em what's happenin It's goin on out here - brothers ain't got no peers And they smokin funny - shuddup yo' damn mouth!) [Method Man] I swing funky rap routines and tap the jaws Spot ya twenty points and you still can't score NUTTIN - cause you ain't got no points in this game Kid you FRONTIN - I'm home run hittin, you be buntin Fresh out the toilet, I got my shit together When I'm good, I'm good, when bad, I'm better You want it? Whatever - I'll be the stormy weather Rain comin down, so weatherproof you're leather JACKET, a nigga with a AXE couldn't HACK IT I spark em like a match (ssskt) Coming back it's the Met-chod, say it loud I'm the Met-chod, Man - clap yo' hands, now check it See me in the mix, rollin fat, bustin flicks While my physical brother came through and got me lift Niggas, that I walk by, give me the eye The moment is fuckin me up, killin my high Nigga get back, ya pussy cat, I'm fearsome Basically THAT, I'm all of THAT, and then some While I, was out on tour, goin beserk I heard you was at the sandbox and kickin DIRT All on my name but you can't pull my file YOU DON'T KNOW ME, AND YOU DON'T KNOW MY STYLE Comin out dere like dat dere, YEAHHHH Even Grizzly Adams couldn't bear (Ahhheheh, I taught the boy everything he KNOW Go on you bad motherfuckers See I told you that kid go back to that Dolemite Everybody needs to love Dolemite I love Dolemite, you love Dolemite Hey, how you doin nigga, I know you Knowin I didn't when I did Meth-Tical Shiiit, I told the boy If you can't get yourself a ten The least you can do is fuck five twos And we out, Method) ************************************************** The Rock’s Theme - ‘Know Your Role’[The Rock] Do you smell what The Rock is cooking? [Method Man] I smell it [The Rock] Do you smell what The Rock is cooking? [Method Man] I smell it Come on, come on [The Rock] Do you smell what The Rock is cooking? [Method Man] Yo, finally The Rock has come back Layin down the smack on your monkey crap candy coated ass Enter the squared circle with the Great One Most electrifying moves, don't change the station Children and their children, they all chant With the millions upon millions of Rock's fans Get ready for the square dance, here's your chance For a can of ass whooping, from the People's Champ If you smell what The Rock's cooking If you smell what The Rock's cooking [The Rock] Do you smell what The Rock is cooking? [Method Man] If you smell what The Rock's cooking If you smell what The Rock's cooking [The Rock] Do you smell what The Rock is cooking? [Method Man] Jabroni, check yourself, you don't know me Jabroni, go back to the gym, you're too bony So you want a piece of The Rock? Make you crumble In these Wrestlemanias, kid, we Royal Rumble Telling us that Raw is War, what the hell you think we came for? Just to play with these whips and chainsaws? And sharp glass I'll shine them up real nice, turn them sideways And shove them up your candy ass If you smell what The Rock's cooking If you smell what The Rock's cooking [The Rock] Do you smell what The Rock is cooking? [Method Man] If you smell what The Rock's cooking If you smell what The Rock's cooking [The Rock] Do you smell what The Rock is cooking? [Method Man] Yo, yo, this is it y'all, Summer Slam, Summer Sam'd out It's Thursday Night Smackdown, there's No Way Out Now you got a problem, with the Brahma Bull Time to throw Rock Bottom Ain't no way to stop him See the People's Elbow, ignite the crowd Into a feeding frenzy, they want blood now Chinlock and chair shots, suplexes, legdrops Finish with the People's Elbow and sign it Rock If you smell what The Rock's cooking If you smell what The Rock's cooking [The Rock] Do you smell what The Rock is cooking? [Method Man] If you smell what The Rock's cooking If you smell what The Rock's cooking [The Rock] Do you smell what The Rock is cooking? [Method Man] If you smell what The Rock's cooking If you smell what The Rock's cooking [The Rock] Do you smell what The Rock is cooking? [Method Man] If you smell what The Rock's cooking If you smell what The Rock's cooking [The Rock] Do you smell what The Rock is cooking? Do you smell what The Rock is cooking? Do you smell what The Rock is cooking? Do you smell what The Rock is cooking? Do you smell what The Rock is cooking? ************************************************** I’ll Be There For You/You’re All I Need To Get By (Puffy Daddy Remix)[Intro: Method Man] Rugged style, it's enough to make a hardrock smile Cheeba cheeba, y'all Cheeba cheeba, y'all And you don't stop Yeah, yeah Cootie in the chair Cheeba cheeba, y'all Don't stop Yeah, yeah Cootie in the— check (Tical) [Verse 1: Method Man] Shorty, I'm there for you anytime you need me For real, girl, it's me and your world, believe me Nothing make a man feel better than a woman Queen with a crown that be down for whatever There are few things that's forever, my lady We can make war or make babies Back when I was nothing You made a brother feel like he was something That's why I'm with you to this day, boo, no fronting Even when the skies were gray You would rub me on my back and say, "Baby, it'll be okay" Now that's real to a brother like me, baby Never ever give my cootie away and keep it tight, aight? And I'ma walk these dogs so we can live In a fat-ass crib with thousands of kids Word life, you don't need a ring to be my wife Just be there for me and I'ma make sure we Be livin' in the effin' lap of luxury I'm realizing that you didn't have to funk with me But you did, now I'm going all out, kid And I got mad love to give, you my nigga [Chorus: Mary J. Blige & Notorious B.I.G.] You're all I need To get by, by You're all I need (Lie together, cry together, I swear to God I hope we fuckin' die together) To get by, by [Interlude: Mary J. Blige] Like sweet morning dew I took one look at you And it was plain to see You were my destiny With you, I'll spend my time I'll dedicate my life I'll sacrifice for you Dedicate my life for you [Verse 2: Method Man] I got a Love Jones for your body and your skin tone Five minutes alone, I'm already on the bone Plus I love the fact you got a mind of your own No need to shop around, you got the good stuff at home Even if I'm locked up north, you in the world Rockin' three-fourths of cloth, never showin' your stuff off, boo It be true, me for you, that's how it is I be your Noah, you be my Wiz I'm your mister, you my missus with hugs and kisses Valentine cards and birthday wishes? Please We on another level of planning, of understanding The bond between man and woman and child The highest elevation, 'cause we above All that romance crap, just show your love [Chorus: Mary J. Blige & Notorious B.I.G.] You're all I need To get by, by You're all I need (Lie together, cry together, I swear to God I hope we fuckin' die together) To get by, by You're all I need To get by, by You're all I need (Lie together, cry together, I swear to God I hope we fuckin' die together) To get by, by (Like sweet morning dew, I took one look at you) You're all I need (And it was plain to see you were my destiny, baby) To get by, by You're all I need (Lie together, cry together, I swear to God I hope we fuckin' die together) To get by, by You're all I need (Lie together, cry together, I swear to God I hope we fuckin' die together) To get by, by You're all I need (Lie together, cry together, I swear to God I hope we fuckin' die together) To get by, by You're all I need (Lie together, cry together, I swear to God I hope we fuckin' die together) To get by, by You're all I need (Lie together, cry together, I swear to God I hope we fuckin' die together) To get by, by You're all I need (Lie together, cry together, I swear to God I hope we fuckin' die together) To get by, by You're all I need (Lie together, cry together, I swear to God I hope we fuckin' die together) To get by, by You're all I need (Lie together, cry together, I swear to God I hope we fuckin' die together) To get by, by You're all I need (Lie together, cry together, I swear to God I hope we fuckin' die together) To get by, by You're all— ************************************************** Hood Go Bang![Chorus: Redman] This is how it sounds when the hoods go BANG! This is how it sound when the hood go BANG! (Yeah) This is how it sound when the hood go BANG! Yeah, here we go (Here we go) I said this is how it sound when the hood go BANG! This is how it sound when the hood go BANG! (BANG!) This is how it sound when the hood go BANG! *click click* BANG! [Verse 1: Method Man] Yo, this is how it sound when the hood go bang You can cop a couple of bricks of good cocaine I’m a block scholar, call me Dollars, I don’t change I’m a Rottweiler, diamond collar with gold fangs Yep, a top shotter, Don Dada, rhyme proper Might even take the ‘R’ out of brother—why bother? Mic on Halloween, I mean, I’m clearly a monster We gathered here today so that I could dearly depart ya Math, bars better than Willy Wonka’s It’s how to get away with a murder—you feel me, Shonda? Rhymes like karma, I’m hood, stash the contra You ever hear a rhymer this good, smack ya mamas But it’s still death over dishonor ‘Cause you can get it next and get death over this drama Math verse Meth, this Civil War is a starter Men turn to martyrs, Wu-Tang bang regardless [Chorus: Redman] Yeah, this is how it sounds when the hoods go BANG! This is how it sound when the hood go BANG! This is how it sound when the hood go BANG! Yeah, here we go (Here we go) I said this is how it sound when the hood go BANG! This is how it sound when the hood go BANG! This is how it sound when the hood go BANG! *click click* BANG! BANG! ************************************************** Is It Me[Intro: Method Man] Uh... yeah, y'all, guess whose back? Heh... cauli' flavored, momma crack Yeah... yeah... Scott Storch (Return of the great) Mr. M-E-F (aww shit) know what I said Black people don't use the T-H, yo (got it fucked up now) Yo, yo... [Method Man] Guess who back though, crack dough, yes, eyes is hat low Stash 'dro, pimp on the side, you know how that go Rap flow, major, taste the flavor, all natural high Y'all gotta love it when the track go (track go) Ask Def Jam what's hot, three letters, M-E-F Man Been stopped, that's off top, young, fresh to death And you're not, no matter what the job, I'm the best man Rap C.E.O. minus the yes-man (yes-man) I know that's right, so act right, Staten on the map Like fuck y'all, get stuck, y'all and have a bad night As I brush off my shoulder, that's right My nigga Scott Storch keep bringing it back like (back like) Oh boy, dig it, I talk about it and I live it Been there, did it, shitted and wiped my ass with it These critics saw the train for brains and must of missed it If they ain't got the shit, they'll never get it (never get it) [Hook: Method Man] Is it me, or is it these, niggas in it for cheese Is it me, all my enemies, hating on Killa Beez Is it me, or is it me, that ain't feeling M.C.'s With the top down, wheeling the v, feeling the breeze Is it me, or is it these, niggas spitting the same Is it me, all my enemies, throwing shit in the game Is it me, or the industry that really got to change Once again, it's Wu-Tang, in case y'all forgot the name [Method Man] I spit germ, early bird gets worm, now Now that it's his turn, clowns don't get turns, now Fuck with a chick perm, when she get hot, you get burned You see I'm not kidding, knowing these kids learn (kids learn) And and I'm that dude, ahh-choo, and allerging to wake jewels Blast if I have to, and y'all don't give me no hassle Who rep Rotten Apple to death and get natural Make hard beats pound like the track do (track do) If you ask me, this raspy voice nigga is nasty Khaki's hanging off of his ass, eyes is glassy That's fucked, that's us, niggas know where to catch me At 1-800 GET-AT-ME, (get at me) My, flow's, no holds barred, Holy Jahad It's the head nigga in charge, Meth, back on the job Like back in the days, back when, the game was hard And when they reminiscenced over Wu, my God [Hook] [Method Man] Until these rap niggas stepped up, checked up, man this game is messed up Next up, you know what it is, don't get it f'd up Meth, what? F.Y.I., you need a heads up And I don't mean to beat you in the head, but (head, but) When you spit that, forget that, I eat these niggas food And the shit wrapped, where Cliff at? Tell 'em Mr. Meth got his shit back The gift back, sign, sealed, delivered and gift wrapped And when you hear that click-click (click-click) That's real talk, some niggas will talk to the cops Get killed off, man how did you get caught with all the rocks And still walk, no matter what you mix with a pig You still pork, and money is still forced (still forced) Yeah, that was right on cue, new and improved All these dudes try'nna walk in my shoes, doing my moves But that's cool, cause I'mma make it do what it do With this W, like I can I get a "suu" motherfuckers? [Hook] [Outro: Method Man W-T-R-B... Wu-Tang Radio, Bitch... ************************************************** 4:20[Intro: RZA (Method Man)] Roll that shit, light that shit, smoke it (roll it up niggas) Roll that shit, light that shit, smoke it (4:20, y'all, it's time, it's time) Roll that shit, light that shit, smoke it (it's been a long time for this man Niggas been sleeping on the kid, man, everybody got some sideway shit to say) Roll that shit, light that shit, smoke it (Carlo! Know what I'm saying, man? Yeah) [Method Man] Fast or slow mo, oh no, Meth done made a killing Call the po-po, oh niggas is squealing, oh, y'all ain't feeling Niggas no more, the bigger they are, harder they go though Good pussy put a hump in my back like Quasimoto Hah, my sex ain't homo, season vet, hold the adobo Got rappers on that low carb diet, y'all can't get no dough I keep a low pro, file, excuse me as I get smoked out Put hands on these niggas, then put the roach out Go head, I'm wishing you would, ask if it's good Man, does Tarzan shit in the woods, my shit is hood, bitch That means I'm hood rich, telling you lies Straight out the pull-pit, it's like Merrill Lynch I'm on that bullshit Real spit, money come first, and even worse You need all your toes & fingers to count up what I'm worth, trick So when I blow a smoke cloud in your face, just take a hint Dick, you crowding my space, it's Mr. Meth, pa [Hook: Carlton Fisk] It's 4:20, roll up, nigga getting smo-ked out No seeds, California weed have you choked out No doubt, roll up, which rims spoked out 4:20 mean either you roll up or roll out [RZA] Roll that shit, light that shit, smoke it Roll that shit, light that shit, smoke it [Method Man] So on and so on, I flow on Power to our people, get your smoke on And I'm so gone, off, that sour diesel Hard to hold on, but hold on, it's like I'm Pretty Toney With that robe on, got terrorist shook, because I'm so bomb The hood, put, me in position, I'm in the kitchen With that cook book, the service I'm giving, birds they vision Not a good look, told ya my nigga, Tical deliver Hook or crook, lots of asses to kick, wish I had a bigger foot Yeah, taking it there, hating who care Y'all stay out my mental, I got killas waiting in here To get you, as I sharpen my pencils, tear apart instrumentals Fuck it, y'all niggas is pussy, so is the dick that sent you RZA, we done it again, Co-D occassion Here's to short skirts and Ol' Dirt McGirt, okay, then Let's get it popping, like it ain't nothing to get it popping The big and rotten's the city, too good to be forgotten [Hook] - 2X [Streetlife] The rap game won't like me You can tell that a nigga is shiesty If I die, my second born'll be like me Slide dick to your wifey Never know your baby boy just might be Quick to rob a jack, he's so icey, stay dressed to kill From the Hill, never ran, never will Attitude, like, fuck you still, I see you missing the point This is not a rap song, you get clapped on Bullets break the bone, like the joint, call you out your name Disrespect ya moms, spit on your dame Go public, then, shit on your fame, you overlooking the fact Where you from, is where we at And y'all don't want no, parts, in that that Caught your verse for sale, but real niggas don't shoot & tell We'd rather do the time and rot in the cell [Carlton Fisk] The inner outer state, bi-coastal smoker Inhale, Cali piff with a swift of glaucoma Black jeans, black Timbs, black Benz roaster Smoke rise, out the sun roof when I roll up Verrazano, with no relation to Gravano Carlo, shots are hollow, still cop a bottle And pour some out, moment of silence, then I swallow I'm still alive, and still the sun'll come out tomorrow Shine shine shine, and grind, cuz it's money on my mind And I'm moving like my life is on the line For the bullshit, I really got no time, a full clip Really gon' let ya niggas know what's on my mind When ya getting out of line, have them choppers lit up You won't need a camera phone to get the picture Chalk down, tape around, body bag zipped up Carlo Verrazano, you can call me mister [Hook] ************************************************** Stimulation[Intro: Method Man (Blue Raspberry)] 1, 2, 1, 2, 1, 2 I gets busy on 'em, I gets bust of 'em I gets busy on 'em, I gets bust of 'em... (Let's come together for the stimulation Meth-Tical, hit 'em with the stimulation) [Verse 1: Method Man] I got 36 styles on my mind, on my mind Keep it real, Shaolin represent one timeeeee All my peoples, are you with me? Where you at? (Suuuu) All my Killer Bees on the track, where you at? (Suuuu) Throw ya fuckin' hands in the air if you want 'em near If ya got ya gats, peel a cap for the New Year Blindin' devotion, what's the commotion? Wu-Tang Clan, we attackin' your emotion Flowin' like the ocean (Bluuue) I be comin' for your (Creeew) Flyin' guillotine (Styyyle) with the new Meth-Tical Is it goin'? Is it goin'? Is it gone? If I ain't on ya records, then the shit ain't really on One-man band from the Wu-Tang Clan Ask who the man? Goddamn, it be Method Here I, here I am in the Clan, it's essential Puttin' Def Jam on my records, it's on [Hook: Blue Raspberry] Let's come together for the stimulation Meth-Tical hit 'em with the stimulation Can everybody feel the stimulation? Meth-Tical hit 'em with the stimulation [Verse 2: Method Man] I'm here for you, son, I gotcha back As long as you keep it real, word, I gotcha back Brothers want the drama, but don't know how to act Until the chrome pointed at his dome head crack Come on, let's keep it real, no disguise, recognize I'm from a small town where 'Nigga do or nigga die' That's why I'm stressin' That brothers keep they thoughts on they lesson Resurrect yo' mind from the essence, for real Ill block niggas get robbed like by the dozen What up, cousin? Now give a pound to that lounge nigga Peace, my MZA! Killah Hills 10304 by The GZA got me wideeee, it's goin' DZA Make my way for the ooh buildin' Now I'm chillin' with the neighborhood villains Thug Life, it be on now Hear the gun blaow as I milk another cow Let the Method show you how niggas do it I study, live the life of good, bad and ugly Hard times caught a nigga lovely, but that ain't nuttin' Before I die, I'mma leave the world with sumtin' To remember me by, the real stimuli! For you frontin' ass out rappers to capture I rip the world apart like a natural disaster I keep it live, somethin' born in '85 I utilize my 3rd eye, got me thinkin' Baby, you and I should get together for whatever You never in your long-legged life had it better Than you got it now, we be loungin', Tical "Word, son, I like yo' styleee" [Hook: Blue Raspberry] [Break: Method Man, overlaps Hook] Basically, I'm here for the stimuli To get high and for doughnuts Meth-Tical, it's '94 and it's raw, once more The Wu-Tang saga continues [Outro Hook: Method Man, overlaps Blue Raspberry's Hook] Wu-Tang Clan, forever No, we don't die, we just multiply forever, and ever, and ever... [Hook' 'til fade] ************************************************** Cradle Rock[Intro: Method Man] All the children come into the light... (There will be...) [Chorus: Left Eye and Method Man] Rock-a-bye baby from the rooftop When the guns blow, your cradle gets rocked When the Earth quakes and the sky starts to fall Down will come MCs, fake shit and all [Verse 1: Method Man] Off top it be the sure shot, the bomb drops Aftershock blow your bumbaclot to smithereens Time stop, flying guillotines coming for your slot What you mean you spilled the beans, ock? Blacked out and thought I seen Pac, laser beam Glock What's a bird to a brother with a flock, what? They got some nerve to even try to shit a turd On John J, slap a nigga gay with the wordplay Hot Nix shoot you with the gift, it's your birthday God hatin' ugly in the worst way, fuck 'em like the Earth say From first day I survey the hassle, death knockin' at your door In the Big Apple, Meth' rotten to the core Shackle in the sound castle The dungeon with vermin in the form of MCs determined To step foot on God's soil, not knowin' that These eggheads come hard-boiled and heavy-handed The aliens they just landed and you in the way Overthrow these niggas' planet, Independence Day Felons, get split melons, homicide Bug niggas get the bug repellent, insecticide Johnny 5 take it worldwide, as long as I Pledge allegiance to the Dark Side, I'll never die Who you know with a flow like this? Bring 'em in What Clan you know blow like this? Bring 'em in Take that nigga (There will be...) [Refrain: Method Man and Left Eye] The sound of gun burst put the foul in the dirt (Foul in the dirt) You can't think clearly from the mind control theory (Mind control theory) Murder in the first bring 'em back down to Earth (Back down to Earth) Y'all niggas don't hear me prepare for the worst (Prepare for the worst) [Verse 2: Method Man] Times gon' change, nothin' will remain the same Million-dollar broke niggas still fucked up in the game Make me wanna choke niggas shittin' on my name Tuck your chain when I approach nigga, go against the grain now Niggas stand in rain now, die hard fan Call me John John McClain now, Snake vs. the Crane Style Death to the enemy, Wu brother Number One The Centipede, troublesome, send 'em all to Kingdom Come Sun still shine one, time for your crooked mind Drunk off a cheap wine, son I'm into street crime Every word, every line, got juice very fine Turn me loose on mankind, detonate the landmine Focus my goal now, never sell, never sold Live by the code now, never tell, never told Darts I throw like Clyde with the finger roll Clutch shots and whatnot, this is where the buck stops Still can't eat and y'all still can't sleep I elect myself as Presidential MC Wu-Tang Killa Bee, the beehive facility In love with the blunt smoke even though it's killing me Bad vibes fillin' me with thoughts of conspiracy White Water scandals with Bill Clinton Hillary Too hot to handle, too well put together to dismantle Fucker, you heard me (There will be...) [Refrain 2: Method Man] Excuse me as I kiss the sky Catch me when I fall son, I'm too young to die Me and Lefty, that be the Eye come test me If you don't know, you never know me Booster, burn me [Interlude: Booster] [?] [Chorus: Left Eye and Method Man] Rock-a-bye baby from the rooftop When the guns blow, your cradle gets rocked When the Earth quakes and the sky starts to fall Down will come MCs, fake shit and all [Outro: Left Eye] Ayo, I got three-hundred and sixty degrees of self That's mind, body and spirit A hundred and twenty degrees a piece We gon' break it down into simple terms That's nine nigga, nine, highest level of change It's too many niggas sittin' on they ass Waitin' for shit to just happen Shit don't just happen, gon' fuck around a miss the boat If you take away the negative, make room for the positive That's addin' and subtractin' on the real Niggas better learn they math Cause if my calculations serve me correct I'ma fuck around and have all this shit I'm on your ass, nigga ************************************************** All I Need (Razor Sharp Mix)[Intro: Mary J. Blige] Like sweet mornin' dew I took one look at you And it was plain to see You were my destiny [Hook: Mary J. Blige] You're all I need To get by, by You're all I need To get by, by [Verse 1: Method Man] Shawty, I'm there for you anytime you need me For real, girl, it's me in your world, believe me Nothin' make a man feel better than a woman Queen with a crown that be down for whatever There are few things that's forever, my lady We can make war or make babies Back when I was nutin' You made a brother feel like he was sumtin' That's why I'm with you to this day, boo, no frontin' Even when the skies were gray You would rub me on my back and say, "Baby, it'll be okay" Now, that's REAL to a brother like me, baby Never ever give my pussy away and keep it tight, aiiight? And I'mma walk these dogs so we can live In a phat-ass crib with thousands of kids Word life, you don't need a ring to be my wife Just be there for me and I'mma make sure we Be livin' in a fuckin' lab of luxury I'm realizin' that you didn't have to fuck wit me But you did, now I'm goin' all out, kid And I got mad love to give, you my nigga [Hook: Mary J. Blige] You're all I need To get by, by You're all I need To get by, by [Verse 2: Method Man] I got a love jonz for your body and your skin tone Five minutes alone, I'm already on the bone Plus, I love the fact you got a mind of your own No need to shop around, you got the good shit at home Even if I'm locked up North You in the world, wrapped in three-fourths of cloth Never showin' your stuff off, boo It be true, me for you - that's how it is I can be your knower, you can be my wis' Then I can be your Sun, you can be my Earth Resurrect the God through birth Best believe [Hook: Method Man](x2) You're all that I need, I'll be there for you If you keep it real with me, I'll keep it real with you Lovin' your whole steez, it be in there, boo On top of that, you got the good Power-U [Hook: Mary J. Blige](x3) You're all I need To get by, by You're all I need To get by, by ************************************************** Eastside[Intro: iNTeLL] Yeah, uh The I-N-T-E double L Here we go, uh Yeah, The Meth Lab, uh Here we go [Chorus: iNTeLL] I said shout out to the west side But I'm from the east side (Okay) And you know that we ride (Okay) Bumpin' hard beats off the G ride (Yeah) Throwin' up the peace sign, lookin' for some feline Crushin' Power-U, that's how I do I said shout out to the west side But I'm from the east side And you know that we ride (Yeah) Bumpin' hard beats off the G ride (Uh huh) Throwin' up the peace sign, lookin' for some feline (Where you at?) Crushin' Power-U, that's how I do it in the mean time [Verse 1: iNTeLL] I said welcome to the rec room, not a lot of headroom (Nope) I'm sacrificin' virgins, catch the beats in my bedroom (Come here) Go against the W, then you might be dead soon (Yeah) I could make the sky bleed, but ya call it red moon (Moon) I never been ordinary, carry weapons more than heavy (Come on) Mind was designed to be primed 'cause I'm more than ready (Right) If you sharpen your machete, better get that coffin ready Run up in your crib, I fuck your wife and eat up your spaghetti (Fuck 'em) All I do is write rhymes, smoke trees and pipe dimes (Uh huh) Hustle all day then continue through the nighttime (Yeah) Nasty like a pipeline, vigilantly fight crime Rappers are my sons, I be worried like a white mom (Ha) Wu gang is next up (Yeah), better have them checks cut (Yeah) Taxes too high, "Bye Felicia" man, we fed up Other rappers sped up they be outta pocket (Come on) See, I can't wait 'til I ball out like Fetty Socket (Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah) [Chorus: iNTeLL] I said shout out to the west side But I'm from the east side (Okay) And you know that we ride (Okay) Bumpin' hard beats off the G ride (Yeah) Throwin' up the peace sign, lookin' for some feline Crushin' Power-U, that's how I do I said shout out to the west side But I'm from the east side And you know that we ride (Yeah) Bumpin' hard beats off the G ride (Uh huh) Throwin' up the peace sign, lookin' for some feline (Where you at?) Crushin' Power-U, that's how I do it in the mean time [Verse 2: Method Man] I'm 'bout to hit 'em with that yes y'all (Uh) You rockin' wit' the best, y'all (Uh) Verbally, I'm skilled, plus, sometime I take the S off That'll leave you killed, bucket list that you've been checked off (Uh) Meth with the F, basically it's me and F y'all How can I forget Protect Ya Neck, dog? Not X, dog, love some DMX I am practically DM an X, dog Matter fact my next bar colder Better yet, it's hot yoga You get stretched forward, dog Do respect, I don't respect y'all That said, I'ma keep the track fed (Woo) Look, if he ain't dead, he better act dead P-L-O forever, peace to Achmed (Hey) Type to say what's crackin' to a crackhead Blacker than your face, that's a blackhead (Ah) Need to be Proactive These rap kids need to know the meanin' of what rap is Before they say they rappers I can say I mastered everything they talkin' 'bout And after it's all said and done, you'll see my jersey in the rafters [Chorus: iNTeLL] I said shout out to the west side But I'm from the east side (Okay) And you know that we ride (Okay) Bumpin' hard beats off the G ride (Yeah) Throwin' up the peace sign, lookin' for some feline Crushin' Power-U, that's how I do I said shout out to the west side But I'm from the east side And you know that we ride (Yeah) Bumpin' hard beats off the G ride (Uh huh) Throwin' up the peace sign, lookin' for some feline (Where you at?) Crushin' Power-U, that's how I do it in the mean time [Verse 3: Snoop Dogg] I'm sorry to keep you waitin' 'cause I've been cultivatin' Thuggish through my duration Doin' public relations Countin' money, doin' TV shows I can't believe he goes underground then mainstream Super supreme and the cream rules everything (Yup) You fools do a lot of talkin' but you never swing And that's on everything See, I'm a king so I look upon my scruples And then pinpoint which one will be my next pupil Concentrated, it's levels and layers Devils and players, Joker's Wild While I'm strokin' her down, we'll be smokin' a pound And we came to par-tay, three the hard way Johnny Blaze, Snoop Dogg and my nephew You can't smoke with us, nigga, we left you In the dust (What?), on the bus (What?) homie, we don't give a fuck (What?) Long Beach, nigga, east side [Chorus: iNTeLL] I said shout out to the west side But I'm from the east side (Okay) And you know that we ride (Okay) Bumpin' hard beats off the G ride (Yeah) Throwin' up the peace sign, lookin' for some feline Crushin' Power-U, that's how I do I said shout out to the west side But I'm from the east side And you know that we ride (Yeah) Bumpin' hard beats off the G ride (Uh huh) Throwin' up the peace sign, lookin' for some feline (Where you at?) Crushin' Power-U, that's how I do it in the mean time ************************************************** Yonkers[Intro] Uh-oh, uh-oh, uh-oh, uh-oh [Verse 1] Crime scene, coppers and sirens Helicopters and high beams, the tensions is rising Fiends keeping the pipe clean This is what life means, a dollar and a dream Everybody wants nice things The kid was only nineteen, hole in his chest now He's fighting, for his last breath He's seeing death, it's frightening The grip on the ghetto is tightening You try to do the right thing? They do you just like King Now I can hear the night scream, sirens and light beams Popping off bad shots, hitting people that they ain't mean to pop The neighborhood’s in shock, block extremely hot Another Black teen shot, that’s dull routine to cops Make sure they got good grades, work the minimum wage Now he’s laying on that stretcher, with nothing in him to save Keep the ghetto, in whatever ghetto you at Just don’t love the ghetto, cause the ghetto don’t love you back You don’t live until you’ve made your first million And top models wanna have your children I thought I told you Wu Tang is for the children Way before rap moved crack in your building Yeah, now what’s the price of rice in China? These women trying to raise the price on their vagina Me? I’m trying to live the life and get the grind up Like Diddy, but I ain’t trying to give the shine (Shyne) up Poppa, pop-off no question, ya’ll dirty, like it raw, (no protection) When the kid hold court, no objection Meth needed money at the door, no exception I go hard in the paint on a rapper I go harder on a pussy no Viagra You think I’m tripping, ain’t into tricking But I keep a snow bunny in the kitchen I’m the master like Killa ************************************************** The RiddlerIntro: Dead crosswords puzzling your delf See that's what I'm talkin bout When you take the Johnny Blaze And you take that game and you plug that here into Bobby Steels Now, you are playing with power With power With power [Verse One] I got your mind twisted Unrealistic wavelength draining on your brain-strip inflicted Crossword puzzling your delf Questioning your own mental health, yeah, it's like a maze within itself Yeah, Check the grimey, slimey, crimey Crim-inim-inal indivi-dual I be Searching for the Dark Knight Lurking in the shadows of the city, he roll with jiggy My crime committee, robbing every Gotham piggy bank blind Take a journey through the mind of a Riddler [Hook:] Tax free money not a problem A heist to get the ice not a problem A body for a price not a problem It's The Riddler [Verse Two:] Once again it's the mind bender, three-time felony offender Demented, brain cemented, mixed in the blender I lose ya, mass-confusion, question mark clues in What where why whose-it, quiz Time to ask yourself who it is Sheisty P.L.O. underhanded biz, invading brothers wigs Can I live corrupt and bringing all the misery and suffering Pain, you couldn't cure with a Bufferin Rotating, ridiculous, rapid-fire riddles Bat get trapped in the middle of The Riddler [Hook:] Murder for the evil not a problem To the gen there is no sequel not a problem Big up to all my people not a problem It's the Riddler [Verse Three:] Observe if you will I'm in my hide-out in the back of the hill I crack a wall then I caught about a mil Co-defendant Johnny Blaze and Bobby Steels We was blazing hot wheels Turn the corner you can hear the wheels squeal On that ass fast was the Batmobile I could tell by the demon on the grill, this was real Alley-cat screaming, I hit a trash can Garbage everywhere, money flying out the bags and Trying to escape, code nine with the cape Or else he'd be headed upstate, it's The Riddler [Hook:] Talking suicide, not a problem If you're speaking homicide, not a problem You want to talk genocide not a problem That's not a problem, for The Riddler [Outro] Word up, that's no problem Stim-ulim-uli, stim-ulim-uli Feel good don't it And you know it Got the, hotter You're playing... with... power ************************************************** Presidential M.C.[Intro: (kung fu sample) Method Man] *kung fu fighting* Yeah, uh, heheheh (That's Shadowboxing!) Yo... [Method Man] It's that Blackout, spazzed out, G-String divas Leave you assed out, passed out, it's cold Pack your heat up, blow your back out You bad mouth, make 'em all believers Throwing rocks from a glass house, y'all ain't perfect either See that cheeba and that hash out (garbage day tomorrow) And I have yet to take that trash out, or emptied this cigar RZA Ra, we amped, eh, Meth is on his job It ain't nothing, like the French say; "que sera sera" So let's move on, until the day we laying in the casket With them suits on, and I'm so cool that hell is only luke warm Been too strong, for too, long, I'll probably die With my boots on, and on my way to cash a coochie coupon You know I'm, proper, don't let them boys confuse you The fact is Meth, I'm harder than bottles made by Yoo-Hoo Wu-Tang, welcome to the House of Flying Daggers Where the truth aim, flying out the mouth of flying rappers There it is... [Hook: Method Man] Now, ask yourself, is this for real, it can't be My, nigga, if it ain't for real, it ain't me I, elect myself as presidential M.C I, elect myself as presidential M.C Now, ask yourself, why is he so low key Why, is niggas pimpin' when the game chose me I, elect myself as presidential M.C I, elect myself as presidential M.C [Raekwon] Yo, blew 'em and hit 'em, and he went into a spin cycle Out blew his liver, a river flooded, what's happening It's drugs we wanted, gloves buttered, thug coverage This is Fila, white sneaker, Louis Vitton luggage I came, representative huddle, they all love you That W, the legacy of little niggas muggin' you The fuck, what's up with you, yo, you suck, nigga Benches used to pluck niggas, we be on the roof, like "fuck you" Them red beams is coming, losers, got to walk the plank Users, with uzi's on 'em, you move, you getting spanked Shank broilers banked, alcoholics ranked ballers They should call us, I rock mad ice like a walrus The lamesters decided to lure us, we was up in Freedomtown Getting weeded, one Bentley tour bus, you might like the mack and explore dust You can't fuck with all of us, one of us dropped, there's twenty more of us [Hook] [RZA] Peel caps like tangerines, you shook/shake like tamberines Then, jet from the set, in the all black Lamborghin' Nobody seen me, bitch in a tini red bikini Niggas saw her, because they thought they saw a genie Heidi Klum, pussy juicy, fat as a plum Picture on the wall in jail, niggas jerk til they come God gargantuan, large, colossus, bombardment of darts Make your squad, throw tantrums Practice karma sutra on broads, pop bra's Leave birds with permanent scars, and shit like birthmarks Digi bark back at dogs, snatch flies from frogs Blow California chronic to despise the smog This shit I been with biz in the clearing, pigs sharing Got fresh, Wu-Wearing, motherfuckers not caring Then move through your community, with diplomat immunity Move to rep a two or G., shine like fine jewelry [Hook] [Outro: kung fu sample] The Shadow Sword... Shadow Sword... ************************************************** Perfect World[Intro: Method Man] First, they dropped the bomb Then came the disease, then death This our world, your world, my world I like this world! [Verse 1: Method Man] On foreign land keep your toast up, hot rocks Catch a close up, your snot box broke up Land shark tryna post up, reptiles Tryna throw cub with crooked smiles Take your kindness for weakness, they foul New York niggas be loving how the gun talk, "Pow!" Another underboss pull a doublecross Niggas ain't ready for the holocaust here and now Want them games people play, catch these bullets over Broadway 25 to life up in Rahway get caught Look deep into the black thought A holy war is being fought on Allah's court My perfect world (if you will!) [Chorus: Method Man] Mr. Sandman bring 'em a dream Infrared light beams, homicide scene, perfect world By any means get cream Just don't let it come between you and I, seen Everything is everything in this three ringed circus Peoples is swift, tryna work us Lord With Devil worship and satanic verses It takes place in the world perfect, mine and yours [Verse 2: Method Man] Heard when it rains, it pour I came to bring the pain once more Pedal to the floor peep the Jim Crow Law The Big Apple rotten to the core, these niggas want war? (Give 'em war) They scheming and eye-beaming Hitmen like Crying Freeman, they need cleaning Keep it coming 'til they all running, screaming Bloody murder at war with them inner demons, it's going down Invasion USA, spitting rounds If these shells hit the battleground Pave the way for birth of a Generation X Spoken with a project dialect Bomb threat to the airwaves, hit the deck Pressed for time in a world lacking sunshine Got love for my family cause they mine See niggas dying in the streets over petty crime We gon' eat or die trying, got my mind made up Young buck, just don't give a fuck Pressing they luck when they best best to give it up Perfect world, baby, what? Nigga head or gut, them or us Welcome to the dark ages Dirty pages of filth, fine filth flavors Dust to dust and ashes to ashes Life flashes right before his eyes, then he passes [Interlude: Cho-Flo] While the 666 got more tricks than the PD's got bricks From Bloods and Crips to pimps with mints We still licking the scars from whips on slave ships [Chorus] [Outro: Method Man] The children are the future And Wu-Tang is for the babies! ************************************************** Grand Prix[Intro] Ah, lord, mm-hmm, yo Get it Twenty five years and we still going Yeah Dame Grease He's a bad boy Look [Verse 1] I'm a smoker (Yeah), weed toker The cola in your coka Losing change up in your sofa I brought change into the culture (Uh) Funny how these pigeons try and change into a vulture You's a poser, wit' pork all on your fork and that ain't kosher No sir, I never put a penny in a loafer For good times up in the ghetto, we had penny and Willona (Uh) You know I stretch a quarter, got a rock 'cause I'm a roller And I'm bolder than a hard rock is 'cause I'm a stoner I need closure (Uh), and you rappers need to wake up And smell the begonias You about to be goners Big shot caller, I'm here to pop them corners Little league ballers could get popped, I warned ya Who put the person in persona, putting hands up on a person Close the curtain on the Rama Pack a Llama, catch me lurking I'm your karma Sleeping on me even worse'll get you murked in your pajamas [Chorus] You can try, but you'll never understand me I plan to give it to you raw, get a plan B Y'all be racing to the cash, that's a Grand Prix I go Ricky Bobby for that bag, that's a guarantee That's a guarantee Ricky Bobby for that bag, that's a guarantee [Verse 2] I'm still working on them commas While the system tryna curve me Ain't no mercy from your honor (Nah) That's the problem, when you coming from the bottom Couldn't even get Bin Laden 'til we voted for Obama (Facts) I ain't a minor, "Teen Spirit" ain't Nirvana Call me pro meth, It's clear this kinda syrup ain't Jemima's Baby mama drama, tryna act like she Madonna Like a virgin, but I'm certain that this person a piranha Man eater, Jeffrey Dahmer If a stray hit a stan and kill a fan that's Katana A rapper getting roasted in a room, that's a sauna Straps in the room, It's Shaolin vs. the Lama Why should I threat when I can promise With that money saved for college You can go and pay me homage (Yeah) If you do the knowledge, you would know this I was solid By the time you check your pockets I already got ya wallet [Chorus] You can try, but you'll never understand me I plan to give it to you raw, get a plan B Y'all be racing to the cash, that's a Grand Prix I go Ricky Bobby for that bag, that's a guarantee ************************************************** Step By Step[Method Man] This goes out To all the big head niggas And all them big head bitches You know my steez-o Yo, yo, yo, yo Deadly melodic, robotic steez-o blur your optic So you can't see the topic, condition combo Blaze bring the heat to your Mourning like Alonzo Head honcho like Eastwood, gun in my pancho Another bad desperado, trapped inbetween The hills and the El Dorados, but you can't do that Welcome to the Wheel of Fortune where Pat don't Sajak Bring it to these cats often, the biggest payback Is when I condemn men, to purgatory Stick a pen, do em in, eight million stories In the naked Mr. Method, Blade Runner Blood stain on my track record, top gunner [Chorus: Method Man] You know it's sick now, just a little bit, aw shit Can't quit now, hard as a brick, what's this Make em get down, head where I fit, more grip Hold this shit down, she don't know you better school her ("Step in the Arena" sample scratched) Step by Step, inch by inch, piece by piece, bit by bit Step by Step, inch by inch, piece by piece, bit by bit [Method Man] Check my Extinction Agenda, mind bender No retreat no surrender, head trauma Death before dishonor, sword and golden armor Undetected stealth bomber, blow the session With Immaculate Conception, hit yo' section With my Def Squad connection, the Green-Eyed Bandit E Double up dammit, Iron Lung Flow taste like a knuckle sandwich, now you know It's time that I take advantage, take command yo Cops caught me red-handed Blood On the Dance Floor Or was it Michael Jackson Fuck it, time for some action Check my Re-Runs an see What's Happening [Chorus: Method Man] You know it's sick now, just a little bit, aw shit Can't quit now, hard as a brick, what's this Make em get down, head where I fit, more grip Hold this shit down, she don't know you better school her ("Step in the Arena" sample scratched) Step by Step, inch by inch, piece by piece, bit by bit Step by Step, inch by inch, piece by piece, bit by bit [You know it's sick now, just a little bit, aw shit Can't quit now, hard as a brick, what's this Make em get down, head where I fit, more grip Hold this shit down, she don't know you better school her [Method Man] Before she get her back blown Jealous men don't understand and get clapped on, now I'm reloadin Automate and keep it goin, right and exact Runnin track like I'm Jesse Owens, catch em wit my rap slogan Jack Frost, leave em frozen Bust flows and never lay text/latex without my Trojan Hand writtin ass whippin, I keep spittin At any head-on collision, throw dart wit precision And split decision, tell your old folk And your children what I'm dealin Good times, and hood rhymes from the villain Till I see you at the ooh-building motherfuckers [Chorus: Method Man] You know it's sick now, just a little bit, aw shit Can't quit now, hard as a brick, what's this Make em get down, head where I fit, more grip Hold this shit down, she don't know you better school her ("Step in the Arena" sample scratched) Step by Step, inch by inch, piece by piece, bit by bit Step by Step, inch by inch, piece by piece, bit by bit Step by Step, inch by inch, piece by piece, bit by bit Step by Step, inch by inch, piece by piece, bit by bit [Outro] This one, is dedicated to my big head niggas And all them big head bitches All them big head bitches ************************************************** Take The Heat[Intro: [?]] Spinning the b-b-beats for the streets It's the Bomb Squad DJ We getting you crunk right now Get down or lay down Take it like a motha fuckin' man [Chorus: [?]] He's Mr. Take The Heat, Mr. Baby Rub My Feet Mr. Don't Be Hanging Late In Streets Mr. Bring Home The Bacon, Mr. You Ain't Hear Enough Mr. Pack Your Shit, Mr. Do It To Me Rough Mr. Please, Drop Me At My Job Mr. Please, I Need A Hundred Dollars To Borrow Mr. Please, Can I Use Your Car If any man can do all this, he got to be a bad boy [Verse 1: Method Man] Fast women and fast cars A razor blade instead of a tongue, my game sharp We major leaguers, minor leaguers, get out the park Bitches, that wanna back talk, get out and walk I'm too cold, like Iceberg Slim Ya'll see, I'm caked up with icing Rolling on dubs, thug for lifing, never trifling And I ain't never met a piece of pussy I ain't liking I'm too piping, hot, front, you get got, kid Don't get too close, because you might get shot [Chorus: [?]] He's Mr. Take The Heat, Mr. Baby Rub My Feet Mr. Don't Be Hanging Late In Streets Mr. Bring Home The Bacon, Mr. You Ain't Hear Enough Mr. Pack Your Shit, Mr. Do It To Me Rough Mr. Please, Drop Me At My Job Mr. Please, I Need A Hundred Dollars To Borrow Mr. Please, Can I Use Your Car If any man can do all this, he got to be a bad boy [Verse 2: Method Man] Okay, come out and play Ya'll clowns Need to get down, or get out the way I'm a live round, shot to your head by Doc Dre Ain't too long, ya'll gon' live on consignment and not pay This is everyday, life of the kid, fuck who it is I'm gon' live like a true bad boy, and do it big And I could take it, it's just as good as I get And ya'll ain't gotta ask, dead rapper your ass, kid Who anti-everything, ya'll niggas is for Who eat up everything on his plate, then eat yours Ain't got no table manners at all, I'm off the wall Like I'm MJ, jerking myself, scream at your frog And bitches wanna give us the drawers, cuz who we are The same bitch'll sugared your tank and key your car The life of a player and pimp, who every dollar, tax exempt Pussy paying the rent, now who I'm is? [Chorus: [?]] He's Mr. Take The Heat, Mr. Baby Rub My Feet Mr. Don't Be Hanging Late In Streets Mr. Bring Home The Bacon, Mr. You Ain't Hear Enough Mr. Pack Your Shit, Mr. Do It To Me Rough Mr. Please, Drop Me At My Job Mr. Please, I Need A Hundred Dollars To Borrow Mr. Please, Can I Use Your Car If any man can do all this, he got to be a bad boy [Verse 3: [?]] Oh I'm a bad boy, fast cars, hot women The lifestyle, accustomed to winning Bitch, your chrome is spinning, tinted windows But still, you're jailed from the head bopping gangsta lean You'se a bad boy, champagne, diamond studded events Red carpet rollout, pulling up in a Bent' And the crowd, they taking pictures It's hard to tell, if a flash went off Or you was blinded by the riches ************************************************** Baby Come On[Intro: Method Man] Uh.. that's right, oh yeah Back with some nasty shit, right there Nasty, nasty, girl, nasty girl, baby come on Think you a nasty girl, yea [Method Man] Pretty young thing like to bone And she hate to spend her nights alone, baby doll you in the zone Why not call me on the phone, and invite me home Come on, now, baby, come on-on Know what I mean, take a real queen to fuck with me Trustin' me, and give it up for free Next time, feel free to hit me up, anything you wanna puff a tree Come on, now, baby, come on-on Whats shaking yo, stop stallin', what you waitin' for? You know we both ain't got no place to go So roll it up, and lay low Everytime I say, yes, baby, you say no Come on, now, baby, come on-on Now-now, now-now-now, you don't have to stay It's ok, there's the dough, you can walk away, why make we wait Til tomorrow, when you can break me off today Come on, now, baby, come on-on [Hook: Kardinal Offishall] Yeah! Gal dem we love, and gal we need She crush up me things and light me weed We see dem shotgun, and watch me speed Me need a pringy one or pon we need it Gal dem we *ugh*, and gal we screw When we need the girl, up one night po' half me crew And lick on my collection, and what to do Me need a nasty girl, it could be you, eh! [Method Man] I won't lie, I love P-U-S-S-Y, (why?) Cuz I never let it walk on by, or any slice of the american pie Come on, now, baby, come on-on Girlfriend, you know it's half past two A.M You got a friend, but you ain't really trynna fuck with him Aight, then, hit up Batty, I'll gladly come and tuck you in Come on, now, baby, come on-on Scream at your frog, all's fair, love & basketball She remind me of this chick that used to fuck with Dirty Bastard, ya'll Heard that she could suck a ball through a plastic straw Come on, now, baby, come on-on Know what I'm sayin', kid, she get it poppin' off and half the time A little, candlelight, a little glass of wine I'm thinkin', another drink and that ass is mine Come on, now, baby, come on-on [Hook] [Method Man] If you girl come knockin' at my door, it's my duty To give her what she came here for I'm try'nna knock it down, but I ain't try'nna claim that dough Come on, now, baby, come on-on That's what's up, start the fire, Buddha, light things up The only nigga puttin' ends on some rims for his ice cream truck Pick a flavor, I'll come and scoop your whole team up Come on, now, baby, come on-on That's how it be, don't trip, but girl you put a hurtin' on me Oh shit, hope other chicks don't take it personally But ma, you killin' her, murder in the first degree Come on, now, baby, come on-on Okay, okay, can the ladies come out and play with Mr. Meth I ain't trynna take you out your way Why break me off tomorrow, when you can break me off today Come on, now... [Hook] [Outro: Method Man] Me need a nasty girl, it could be you, eh, eh, eh, eh, eh, eh Big up to, super producer, Fafu, one love to Kardinal Offishall And the whole T-Dot, oh! ************************************************** Torture[Intro] You know? Through being humbles True Mast' on the track Like that, you know? Been in this rap game for like the past.. Four bullets now, you know? Doing bids, yeah-yeah I done peeped a lot of cats come through Courageous cats, stray cats, ha-ha Top cats with top hats, you know what I'm saying? But it all boils down to this, we talking lyrics Rhymes, line for line, numero uno Who the best? I don't know Check it [Verse 1] Flame on, I rain fire when Johnny Storm I'm shocking like live wire, you have been warned I prolong this next chamber to make it strong And prove all them doubters wrong Killin 'Em Softly with this song, adding on Let them toes get they tag on, dead men run no marathons On my shift, shooting that gift, knowin' he snitched On the telethon, running his lips, sinking the ship Give back what his mother gave him, mother made him And now she can't even save him, Johnny Blaze 'em Send him to his final resting Back to the essence, Faces of Death, the final lesson [Chorus] Torture, torture, torture Motherfucking torture, y'all niggas know [Verse 2] Who got John Blaze shit? Sucking my dick to get famous So I switched Blaze to Dangerous Welcome to my torture chambers, torture chambers Where John Doe's remain nameless, hear me? I know it's Def Jam, but think clearly I made it possible for y'all cats to come near me Keep your enemies close and your heat closer I slam just like my culture on all theories Dead that, straight off the meat rack with this one You get burned playing Nix-on, Hot biscuit Stand back, don't make me spit one and paint pictures On the walls of your mental with hot lead from out these pencils Iron Lung since I was young and not knowing Where the next meal was coming from, been troublesome To all those posing a threat If I go, everybody got to go next, y'all niggas know The code of the street soldier, I'm watching time And time watching me colder, Grim Reaper Breathing death on my shoulder Waiting for the day to take me over, take me over [Chorus] Torture, torture, torture Motherfucking torture, y'all niggas know [Verse 3] That you can never touch my flow, go ahead and hate me Still tryna fuck my ho, Johnny-come-latelies? Got me in a world of shit and now I'm pissed Mama said there'd be days like this This the season for ducks and my pen's bleeding Leaving kids barely breathing for sneak-thieving Famished from lack of eating and lack of teaching Banished from Rhyme & Reason for high treason Can it be, that the kid with the knock knees Got G to make a grown man cop plea, for this track I got a Lovebug like Starski Blow back until I drop Tical Part 3 Ain't no stopping when you start me, John Jay Pulling your card, mayday mayday, niggas owe they life to God And now it's payday, take it how ya wanna take it Fully clothed or butt-naked, I learned the hard way Ain't nothing sacred in this world, time to face it Johnny Basic Instinct, I'm sure to make it While others fake it, fuck the spotlight, G-O-D already got light Say what you like, just spell my name right No doubt, this one goes out, to all you trout-fish Cake niggas, keep my dick up out your mouth [Chorus] Torture, torture, torture Motherfucking torture, y'all niggas know ************************************************** Dangerous Grounds[Method Man] Yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah yea yo Yo yo yo yo yo yo yo All them real live motherfuckin niggas 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! [Verse 1: Method Man] Dangerous ground Tre pound seven spin around for my brethren the clouds 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, niggas through the eye of the demon My lethal injection, destroyin evil Hot Nikkel what, private eye one pistol Aiming 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 [Method Man (Streetlife)] (Beat your feet) Hot Niks son (Heat-mizer) Before you get the main course (Taste a appetizer) [Verse 2: Method Man] 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 Allah Runnin 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 [Interlude: Method Man] Now everybody just throw your hands in the......(phone rings) What the fuck? Peace - who this? [Verse 3: Streetlife] Mind detect mind, I P.L.O. your startin line Deep Space Nine Designed 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 nothing peace Big boys don't destroy blunted zone pop steroid 50 men convoy, expensive where's the big toy Rumble through the wasteland right hand's on the silencer 40 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 itching from a scope-view position Dangerous ground Tre' pound seven spin around for my brethren the cloud comes down [Verse 4: Method Man] Yo, 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 schizophrenic 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 (Uh huh uh huh uh huh uh huh uh huh) Dangerous ground tre' pound seven spin around For my brethren 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 ************************************************** The Motto[Intro: Method Man] My niggas, how we do it? You know it like a poet, baby doll Break through it, you know it like a poet, baby doll I spit, chew it, you know it like a poet, baby doll Get in the music, you know it like a poet, baby doll [Method Man] If you don't know, you better, ask somebody who I be On land, air, or sea, I don't need No I.D Once again, let's get under their skins like I.V.'s Or Roman numerals fours (IV's) who we doin' the score I got a shoe in the door, nothin' new anymore Ya'll got love for me? I got love for you and yours Tical Part 0, my friend, rappers is fightin' Like Tyson, when nothin' else work y'all start bitin' My shit, and his shit, I'm hopin' it end I live my life like a lotto ticket, hopin' it win Purple haze got me chokin' again, open again I'm what's crackin', like your mamma smokin' again [Hook: Method Man] If you see a model, then you might see me follow Rubbin' her thighs like Aladdin rub the Genie bottle Back for another swallow, Method, you know my motto: "Ya'll might just win today, but I'll be back tomorrow" [Method Man] Ya'll tryin' to get me started Who on the short yellow bus tryin' to get retarded? Kid don't be the artist, formerly known as artist Jump off a skyscraper, the roof who hit the hardest Where the bastards at and where they habitats? I send they asses back to foldin' sweaters at the Gap I like Nikes, food spicy, I'm a Pisces That's why women love me and any nigga that's like me Thoroughbread, I'm with gettin' this dough instead Need a ho, like I need another hole in the head Lord help me, I'm crackin' the safe, pocket like 'Face Mighty Healthy, you know I'm the shit, soon as you smelt me [Hook] [Method Man] For what it's worth, the early bird sit at the table and eat first My niggas need work, mami buggin', rippin' my t-shirt We can kick it until our feet hurt Mothers warn your daughters 'bout this tall drink of water Spoiler, waiter give her anything she order on the menu Method Man, live at your venue Smokin' it, jumpin' off the dick, like he mental Kid, I got a murder rap, and my head is simple Open up the pussy, put the lead in the pencils And people sayin' Wu gon' break up, ya'll We got y'all numbers, it's time ya'll got your wake up calls, and.. [Hook 2X] ************************************************** They Say[Verse 1: Method Man] Damn, I hate it when it rain Ever since I came in the game Some hated on the fame A lot of niggas done changed And started actin' strange Even labels turning they backs And started backing lames Radio is the same, whole lotta speculatin' These mutherfuckas defacatin' on the name Wu-Tang, if this is where the hip-hop is Radio lyin' then, that ain't where hip-hop live It lives in the streets, we eat to live they livin' to eat I'm fed up, that nigga rides in 'em, givin 'em sleep R.I.P., make me the king of all I see And when death call I'm good I got call ID See it was clan in the front, now they just gon' front Like my joints is on proactive, and they just don't bump Then niggas gon' say I lost my skill When in fact they all been programmed And lost they feel, fo' real [Hook: Lauryn Hill] They've got so much things to say right now They've got so much things to say [Verse 2: CL Smooth] Like I'm givin you your last rites, when you see my face All you're lookin at is stars and stripes With three-fourths of the drug law So now you know why we build with bricks, they build with straw Against the mark of the beast Cause sometimes men must fight wars to truly have peace Hear to conquer valleys of foreign soil 'til you show me all your hidden weapons and fields of oil I'm sendin in troops, heavy press want the inside scoop I'm like mums the word up in this coop - oversee that God When they move that quick Admire my swag to use it as a measuring stick I paid my dues, why we can't lose, plus I refuse To let 'em stagnate the growth of my blues The pattern of me is sign no statements, cop no plea In what can only be American Me [Hook] [Verse 3: Method Man] Ask Miss Hill, half these critics ain't got half this skill Often so hungry that they have to steal If I didn't have my deal, and didn't have this mass appeal Then I'm back up in that trap, swingin' crack it's real And that ain't worth the time, so search and find a new nerve And here's three words: stop working mine It take a lot more to hurt my pride Jerk my vibe more than media lies, cry when dirt dog die nigga The last album wasn't feeling my style This time my foot up in they ass but they feelin' me now Cause Tical, he put his heart in every track he do But somehow yall find someway to give a whack review It ain't all good, they writin' that I'm Hollywood Tryin' to tell you my shit ain't ghetto and they hardly hood Come on man, until you dudes can write some rhymes Keep that in mind when you find yourself reciting mines [Hook] [Boondocks Sample] I'm gonna take you down Unless I take you down first "Unless I take you down first" Is that the best you can do? Shut up, punk! ************************************************** Talk Dirty[Intro: Method Man] Smoking, choking up in this bitch Mr Meth, DJ Lethal collaboration Oh yeah, oh yeah, it goes like this, check it out, check it out Yo, yo, yo [Method Man] Guess who's coming to dinner, put up or shut up Sit on your ego, when I'm fed up, should of never ended The missintentions of a Meth Man I'm sorta like a CEO from Def Jam, minus the 'yes men' I'm too ill, I represent Park Hill I spit things, pop out my neck like shark gill Live evil, DJ Lethal if you will My kin's in the kitchen, I got for the kill I'm like that, beyond "thunderdome", Mad Max Like I'm pissed off, busting on a urinery track Infection, it burns, anyone that step in my direction Time to count your money, and your blessings [Chorus: Method Man] They like it, when he talk dirty like that They like it, when he talk dirty like that Opposites attract, time to face facts When you bite me, I bite back Now everybody wanna talk about, hip hop, hop music Talk about, hip hop, hop music Talk about, hip hop, hop music Hop, hop, hop, hop, hop, hop music [Method Man] It's that state of the art, shit, business man Formerly known as the artist If ya'll ain't with me, then forget me Cuz if I go broke, nothing gon' fix me Except crispy, hundred dollar bills and fifties Here's the main course, indeed, bringing it often The starving for attention M.C.'s, stomachs is talking About these New York'ns, witty Who that got appettite for hot scorching plates Make Little Annie Orphan Sorta like Kurt Cobain, blowin' his brains With these lyrics, and funk that 'smells like teen spirit' Lookin' high, but hold up, look in they eye And you see crook, coming from that Crooked Letter I [Chorus] [Method Man] Now gag yourself wit the spoon Tical 0: Dj Lethal, this coming soon Jo Lethal, I'd rather play the odds, fuck equals Besides, that's the sugar soften tooth to the people All my people, up til now, you heard it all And ya'll trying to shit on my lawn, curb your dog Know just where to find him, at four twenty, son But the Meth ain't gon' hit ya til 4:21 Now that's game, can't call it, can't complain Just do the damn thing, like Nike shoe campaign Yeah, boo, I hit you with a backstage pass As long as you know, you giving up some backstage(ass) (Chorus) ************************************************** The Show[Intro: sample] "Wanna see the world, ain't scared to do it Even if, your shocked by it Me and you, lost when you do it By myself, better off bein' you" [Intro: Method Man] Smoke cess nigga, smokin' that A.K Northern lights, yeah.. stick 'em! Uh, ahhh, baby, you know it like a poet, baby doll Yeah, yeah, crooked letter in, uh uh, S.I., better Known as the crooked letter I Come on! Self Service [Method Man] Y'all know me since '93, now let that weed burn Back in this bitch, class dismissed, it's the return Of the super sperm, game over, lose a turn Takes a germ to kill a germ, when will y'all killas learn Your only as good as your last hit Soon as you put them automatics on safety that's it I calm them bastards, I call them ratchets Till you blasted, the outcome, ashes to ashes We make classic, huh, bring you a rougher sound You either up or down, don't get that ass kicked Ya'll niggas fuck around, y'all only tough around The crowds, scared to bust a round, don't get that ass kicked What part of the game is this? I came to break bread, evidently y'all killas came to bitch, nigga So, whose the whipped nigga, don't even trip, nigga Some say they pull trigga, I think they bullshitter I just begun to fight, if mommy like daddy talk Then daddy might get him some tonight Give me, my limelight, give me, my five mics Give me, some weed and a light to get my mind right Is he, the illest M.C., to ever play the tough city To find out it'll cost you bout a buck fifty Across your face swiftly, my after taste shitty Whose built by New Yitty, whose milked like two titties And I ain't even got to say my name I got this duck wit her legs up like, "say my name, trick" You think it's all a game, like pussy all the same I'm speakin' toilet slang, not seakin' hall of fame It's raw, sushi, stain in your drawers, dooky Quarter a Lucy, quarter more for a groupie That like to pop snoopy, think she gon' pop coochie Just cuz you got Gucci, don't mean you not hoochie Girl, I tell it like a T-I-N Ain't no other kids eatin' till I feed my kids Trick, oh, you ain't crushin', sister, I can't do nothin' wit you My money's celebate, honey, and we ain't fuckin' wit you I do it for the nookie, some say I'm too pushy Only thing better than pussy, that's some new pussy There that go, looky, it's gettin' ugly even With niggas so broke, they couldn't spend a lovely evening [Outro: Method Man] Yeah, that's it Yeah, Method Man has just left the muthafuckin' building ************************************************** Wild Cats[Intro: Method Man & Redman] We in the lab smokin' that good-good Doin' everything hood-hood Hey, man, let me get some weed, nigga Like we should-should Woo Arrh-arrh-arrh-arhh I don't think they ready for this Wild cats Boom boom Meth Lab, second season This how you make a song nigga Ayy, ayy [Verse 1: Method Man] Key to my city, my G is tricky, my tree is sticky Stairway is pissy, the crown they give me don't even fit me (Huh) King me, it's risky, if jiggy get me, I plead the fiffy They'll never snitch me, judge'll convict me, so just acquit me The fuzz against me, I'm butter-slippery, they think I'm shifty Zero to sixty, it's just a quickie, you blink, you miss me I'm just a fishy, got my bread and my chedda crispy My queen prissy, I kill her dead if she ever quit me These hoes only look good when tipsy, they said I'm picky, that's perfect You done scratched the surface, go 'head and sniff me I'm pushin' fifty, can't find your woman? She pushin' wit' me Was pushin' lifty, the family business was pushin' piffy That pusher in me, I did it gritty, no pretty in me I'm pretty trendy, I had to spend me a pretty penny One outta many, last to fend me, too many envy Don't gimmie-gimmie I do it dirty, no shimmy-shimmy [Verse 2: Hanz On] It's Hanz-arello but you can 'em Shameek from Belly Method giselle, we comin' out, we gon' catch a felly About the jelly, the P-L-O what we call the deli The Lab we smelly, could smell it all in your Pelle Pelle (Woo) Barq or Cola like refrigerators but ain't no Perry Careful fuckin' with regulators across the ferry It's necessary, I gotta bury my adversary These niggas scary, we commandeering this commissary This shit is manly, a little somethin', so don't get weary Wild cats from Missouri, I be your judge and jury I love a girly who get it poppin', you'll feel the fury We tellin' Siri to call the pigs to come get near me (C'mon) Hit a killer to be a killer but ain't no skelly Pissin' on 'em, we shittin' on 'em, but no R. Kelly Speakin' country to country, grammar, but ain't no Nelly Once upon a- from Shaolin wit' no Shkreli [Chorus: Redman, Streetlife & Method Man] Yow, We them wild cats You don't want that dope, we keep slangin' 'til it's right on your Coach, come on Where the Bricks & Staten Isle at? I got 'em right in my scope, leave 'em dead 'til I turn 'em ghosts, you know? Yow, we them wild cats You don't want that smoke, we ain't rich, so we goin' for broke, nigga Where the Bricks & Staten Isle at? We fittin' to go at they throats You must be a kiddin' tryna go with at the goats Come on [Verse 3: Redman] Yo, when I ain't sober, I'm bi-polar, invite me over Doc be dumpin' his ashes in your baby stroller When I was young I ate paint, lead, with quarter waters Now Red red linin' the Range Rover motor I smoke west of the border, your bud outta order I go apeshit, I'm a Caesar with a little Koba Tell your boss I'm the opposite of a Trump voter Yo dude, this wild cat not from Villanova I'm in the cut, like a buck fifty, I Tony Toka Your side piece, I'ma poke her and then I adios her My hood house on the block, we real estate brokers We make it sound like Forth of July in October The Bricks, Tommy Motolla, yeah, I'm a high-roller I write the crack that'll bring back Lamar Odom That girl got good brains, I know she got diplomas She fuckin' with a Goodfella, Ray Liotta [Verse 4: Streetlife] I'm kind of a big deal, I'm from the killin' hill You shackin' a fool, barbeque chicken on the grill I'm not your run of the mill, so play your peep skills I hope your girl's on the pill 'cause she's a cheap thrill We shoot to kill, blood spill for that dollar bill Your body parts'll be landfilled in Potter's Field You ain't really real, you bust when pressure build Like steel water in pipes when the winter chill My Louieville slugger, I call it Lucille See Lucy Lou, you like Kill Bill, the kid's ill The doc fillet 'em like veal, you see his last meal Your brains spill on your duck bill when caps peeled Might rupture my Achille heel chasin' this hunnid mills Streetlife, I'm hard to kill, call me the man of steel Real recognize real, I got mass appeal You Massengil, you all ass like Tip Drill [Chorus: Redman, Streetlife & Method Man] Yow, We them wild cats You don't want that dope, we keep slangin' 'til it's right on your Coach, come on Where the Bricks & Staten Isle at? I got 'em right in my scope, leave 'em dead 'til I turn 'em ghosts, you know? Yow, we them wild cats You don't want that smoke, we ain't rich, so we goin' for broke, nigga Where the Bricks & Staten Isle at? We fittin' to go at they throats You must be a kiddin' tryna go at the goats Come on ************************************************** Spazzola[Intro] [Method] Uhh [M. Killa] Deadly melody part two [Method] That's my word! It ain't safe no more... bitch! [Verse 1: Masta Killa] Yo, yo Brain gets punctured and drained through the nasal Hour of assassination be upon you Movin with the tiger strike, bound, gagged and shot Red the head in, dapple light centered East remains hot with police But I keep a lease for my, four-fifth automatic Extended clip rewind, bust mine Anytime you reveal your snakeish ways and actions Observe the magnetic attraction [Pre-Chorus: Method Man] And it's time for some grid... [Verse 2: Street Life] ...iron rap, action-packed grudge match Tough act to follow, hard copy novel Throw you off the Verrazano We swimmin with these sharks, yo I rate bodyguard Stamp my initial in your birthmark P.L.O., bust like a calico, tally ho Black expo, Tecs in afros, we back yo It's Dolemite, crash your windpipe, with the mic device Fatal strike, daily mic fights, shoot out the street lights [Verse 3: Method Man] Sight beyond sight, late night, city light Tight like a virgin, mergin with my A-Alikes Splurgin, dirty to the grain, no detergent Filthy, innocent until I'm proven guilty Submergin, deeper in the lecture I'm servin Truth or consequences, life or death sentence I'm hurtin, your person, I'm certain, it's curtains [Chorus: Method Man] It ain't nuttin like hip-hop music You like it cause you choose it Most DJ's won't refuse it A lot of sucker MC's misuse it Don't think that Wu can't lose it Too much to gain to abuse it The name of the game is rapture This one is complete, it captures bass [Verse 4: Inspektah Deck] Yo, I bring chaos to blocks like the riots in Watts Rapid fire shots ripple through Kevlar, 9 Glocks Technique of rhyme pop machine gun ammo Sporadic flow buckled a foe, intro to outro Calico, throw verse, but slide my dough first I make thousands in the club with no shirts, go bezerk From the Shao' borough, whylin out on the furlow Commando, styles thorough, solo inferno It burns slow, thermonuclear degrees Heads are underseas down to the youngest seeds Wannabes clone, they light like summer breeze Hundred G's for the Garden, them fans stampede For the top cats, hit the mic like the iron-palm blast Equipped to perform the task S-I-N-Y, and what, head or gut The head rush, will cause your cerebellum to bust [Verse 5: Killa Sin] We be the world's most fabulous Hazardous, to fuck with these ravenous Killers get you stuck to the wall like wooden cabinets Extravagant, je-wel drop a helicopter high Up into the sky, lines philosiphize, I got stocks to buy Watch my pockets rise, to the bottom bust confide in God In Sin I trust, the villianous, criminal minded killers rust I intend to build and fortify in men Mastermind rhymin, navigate the globe then retire quick [Verse 6: Raekwon] Aiyyo fluid rap bend through it black, buluga black Ac' Tackle that, ghetto tabernackles throw it in your lap Slang A-K, national, geographical Mathematical, slide up in your work casual Nike Air Dog, who wear it all, plus down to brawl All a thousand with a bloody hair, flammable Rap mayors, who clap Himalayas pinky fingers Ever glacer, lacer, hand laser touches grail bomb blazers Sly-workin, network berzerk, mad hurtin Killer whales, fucking up sales, crash Bloomingdales Masqevendo, John Lennon tenor break, mad descendo Fuck y'all niggas carve my ice through your Benz window *door creaking open* *gunshots followed by a car alarm* [Chorus] [Outro: Method Man] Uhh.. Spazz-Ola.. (Spazz-Ola) S-I-N-Y 10304 Lock your doors Crack your jaws Drop your drawers It's all day everyday with this rap soufflé ************************************************** Even If[Intro: Method Man] Yo, c’mon! [Verse 1: Method Man] Even if I died a thousand deaths, when I resurrect I’ll still be Meth, the jams will still be def I’m here, me and this mic-phone, we here And ain’t tryin’ to hear nothin’ cuz we had it up to here Lyrics have no dress code, from KRS to Depeche Mode Kid I’m so cool you catch cold At the jump off, it’s about to jump off My niggas speak with they hands or the gun talk Yo RZA, we got the Clan in the front and police At the door, every exit is laced with C-4 About to blow, life trial I’m passed out MC’s is like bitches in thongs – they assed out But me, the M-E-T-H- the O-D Just too real, I can’t be touched and can’t feel The monotony in rap, take a picture of my nut sack Carbon copy that and send your crew a fax, motherfucker [Chorus: Method Man, (Streetlife)] New and improved Wu-Tang style Turn it up now, y’all done fucked up now (Spit flames) Five mics (Peep game) On site (Bring the pain) All night (Off the chain) Damn right! [Scratches: DJ Ty Boogie] “It’s the Method Man, for short Mr. Meth” “Tical-lion, hmm” [Interlude: Method Man] Yo, yo, yo, yo, yo, yo, c’mon! [Verse 2: Method Man] Even if I died a thousand deaths, when I resurrect Through my first born, my name lives on My words is like a third degree to young emcees Buzzworthy on your MTV, the Killa Bees John Jacob, straight up, break up, schemes and plots Ace up my sleeve, bake up pies in pots So this is what it’s come to (Huh?) Lickin’ shots at them kids that used to punk you (Huh?) Repetitious rap shit, don’t get no air play in my whip And niggas can’t smoke wit’ dry lips so chapped Bite my shit, I’m like Kojack to get my flow back In fo’ flat, I track you down like a low jack Spy verse spy, eye for an eye can I Penalize the uncivilized, make ’em civilized You know right from wrong, so know I’m the bomb Who don’t beef for beats, see the tracks on my arm, motherfucker [Chorus: Method Man, (Streetlife)] New and improved Wu-Tang style Turn it up now, y’all done fucked up now (Spit flames) Five mics (Peep game) On site (Bring the pain) All night (Off the chain) Damn right! [Scratches: DJ Ty Boogie] “It’s the Method Man, for short Mr. Meth” “Tical-lion, hmm” [Outro: Method Man & DJ Ty Boogie] Yo, yo, yo, yo, yo, yo, c’mon! “It’s the Method Man, for short Mr. Meth” “Tical-lion, hmm” “It’s the Method Man, for short Mr. Meth” “Tical-lion, hmm” “It’s the Method Man, for short Mr. Meth” “Tical-lion, hmm” Yo, yo, yo, yo, yo, yo, c’mon! ************************************************** Konichiwa Bitches[Hook 2X: GZA sample] "Konichiwa bitches" [Method Man] What up, what up, these niggas suck They can't hold a fort, better hold that thought, B If I can't get it off, see my attitude is MSG Fuck it, I'm salty, the game been loss me Pay ya dues, it cost me, who acting like I'm past my prime Hey Carlton Fisk, nigga, pass the nine, who wanna cross me, now? And put my body in the lost and found You with the business, then bust off a round It's like the passions of Christ, get crucified just for having that ice And the audacity for having that life, while niggas starving & shit The main reason they be robbing and shit The same reason you've been targeted bitch (these niggas must of forgot) The thin line between a ho and a trick Give 'em the clip between the four and the fifth (yea, motherfucker I'm high) There I go again, blowing a spliff When I exhale, it's like I'm blowing a kiss (konichiwa bitches) [Hook: Method Man] N.Y.C., is all I see O.D.B., nigga, R.I.P. (konichiwa bitches) This Killa Beez on ya M.I.C You want it all, well then y'all like me (konichiwa bitches) Come on, come on, I think they playing my song I came to blow them out the frame, and I'm gone (konichiwa bitches) M-E-T, to the H-O-D Why motherfuckers wanna hate on me? (konichiwa bitches) [Method Man] For every rhyme, there's a hair on my chest Scared of the Man, you should be scared of the Meth Now every jam that I drop, is homicidal, that could dare to be done There's no survival, now who care to be next? (if you don't know me by now) Know where the borough is, doing it for The most thoroughest, you doing the most, pa The French call it Faux Pas when fucking with son, the odds a hundred to none Too many flavors, y'all ain't fucking with one It's getting deep, see the plot thicker No place to be, if you bi-atch, nigga Outside the Clan, we always got RZA I put it down, like I don't give a One in the head, I bet he don't get up, we drinking malt liquor Out of your Benz, just to talk slicker Then paint a scene that you can all picture You going in? Well, let me walk with cha It's Method Man, but for short Mr., Mef (konichiwa bitches) [Hook] [Hook 4X] ************************************************** 2 Minutes of Your Time[Verse 1: Method Man] I wrote this verse on the 25th But half a y’all just ain't gon get it till the 26th I’m here to analyze ya shooter Like I’m Kenny Smith But I ain’t Kenny Kenny can shoot it But can he spit? This ain’t for morons Hashtag NEW Yiddi trick, and oxymorons Fat broads who skinny dip The War Report on Better come with your sword on I hit ya with that Cee-Lo Green You know that short arm The people caught on (wait) I meant to say the People’s Court on (wait) For the record I hope record on (brake) Before I wreck it Too many styles to go on Wu-Tang is for the children Go get ya child support on [Verse 2: Method Man] I ain’t tryna bring the city back And all that pretty boy rap Ain’t where I’m really at Besides rappers don’t really ride They piggy back - I’ll trade them all To have 2Pac & Biggie back Facts. Don’t give me dap Don’t want your pity want Fifty Fifty Just give me that Want every penny both Hanz on How many that? A black president White house, what's really rap? We not so friendly at my house (clicky clack) If necessary, pet cemetery, ya kitty cat – Won’t let em eat Cause my other problems too many rats Ya boy a beast on this mic Jack Da ratchet tryna peel (pill) ya like Mike Jack Call that thriller a nite cap Take a moment to suck it up But make it brief nobody cared if ya cow died Don’t make it beef Rap game we own it We really in these streets You rap lames is homeless You really in the streets [Verse 3: Method Man] I ain’t tryna bring the city back And all that pretty boy rap Ain’t where I’m really at Really how sillys that? Besides rappers don’t really Ride they piggy back I’ll trade them all To have 2Pac & Biggie back ************************************************** Intelligent Meth[Intro: iNTeLL] Yeah, yeah A-yo, a-yo The I-N-T-E-double-L [Verse 1: iNTeLL] It’s like I’m trapped inside a cage I can’t explain this type of rage It’s not a moment or a phase But possibly the end of days Watch as I stand up on the stage Not as an artist but a slave Deep inside my subconscious My music keeping me sane They say it’s levels to the shit, I say it’s levels to your brain You can’t acquire the higher, you’ll always remain the same Regardless of all the money and bitches yanking your chain What good is a private plane to a man who can’t walk the plains Hip-hop is now gen-pop, populated with lames Attacking you with these frequencies meant to destroy your brain I’m fitting to go supernova expose em to super-flames Soon as I pick these locks on these psychological chains The answer is in the question the question comes from the pain And the pain is just electrical signals sent to my brain But the brain is just a box where information remains As I try to remain a soldier, the voice in my head explains [Verse 2: Method Man] I’m still shadowboxing lungs and oxygen This an icebreaker, no bubblegum was popping Another hot concoction trick, ya might need amoxicillin The kid’s too sick, you're gonna need shots to kill em My method is ill, Doc admit him When I see you, ICU can get em Your boy give em bars until the judge acquit him The court can’t convict him or find the gloves to fit him That’s OJ, I mean OK, I mean, I’m not kidding, no play Jealous ones still envy, that’s Jose Peace to Cartagena, I flow hey But I don’t speak Spanish, yo no se I’m a seasoned veteran, obey Obtain a freestyle, it’s cold pay The old me, resort to my old ways My old man was stuck in his old days Still he wanna blaze like John but rapping ain’t in his forte [Hook: Method Man] Look how we did it to ya Y’all just don’t get it do you? Special deliver to ya This is how we give it to you I'mma get it to ya (x4) What rapper spit it truer? But they don’t live it, do ya? My shooter cock the Ruger This is how we get it to you I'mma get it to ya (RAW) I'mma get it to ya(RAW) I'mma get it to ya (RAW) I'mma get it to ya (RAW) [Verse 3: Masta Killa] It was only the elite who could walk these streets With jewels and not get stuck, niggas didn’t give a fuck Real G’s know I’m talking about Taking what you making, stripping what you wearing Caring about nothing Gun barrel in your face, cold steel on your cheek This is how we meet and greet, enemy across the street Leaning on his Rover jeeps, smiling, showing all our teeth Seeking son in my hood, it ain’t all sweet And you haven’t earned the respect Of those who come, creep and take money So you just food that niggas come eat And they don’t get no chain back You might see em rocking that Fuck you looking at? Problem needs solving You see that big 357 thing revolving…revolving [Verse 4: Streetlife] Yeah, you niggas ain’t street, my money talks word of mouth I figured you out the life I live, you’re not about Price on your head, I’m taking cash advances I’ll take my chances, then deal with the circumstances Livin’ off the land like a land shark I’m on the lamb like the gyro with the white sauce Idle times a devil playground, make moves Watch me kill your whole vibes, crush groove Hands high, say hello to my little friend Point the finger at the bad guy, it’s me again Who are they to criticize me? I do it like a G I’m a nigga from the motherfucking streets Throw me in the fire, watch me bubble I was built for the struggle, my knees never buckle [Hook: Method Man] Look how we did it to ya Y’all just don’t get it do you? Special deliver to ya This is how we give it to you I'mma get it to ya (x4) What rapper spit it truer? But they don’t live it, do ya? My shooter cock the Ruger This is how we get it to you I'mma get it to ya (RAW) I'mma get it to ya (RAW) I'mma get it to ya (RAW) I'mma get it to ya (RAW) ************************************************** Bulworth (They Talk About It While We Live It)[Intro: Prodigy] Aiyyo, word up Dunn These niggas making me laugh, yo Gotta be more to it than this, word up *Doing an impression of Scarface* This what it's all about Dunn? Uh? Eating, drinking, fucking, sucking (Can't understand) Whattup, I don't know baby Nah man, it's not, it's not yo word up I'm tellin you right now I know this shit though, aiyyo [Verse 1: Prodigy] Disagreeable, foul energy, tryin to Absorb my energy, knowin it's the strength of me Take a few to give me a edge My green light shine bright, Kryptonite type Fully operational, my physical cream Put the bottles of smoke down, pick up a magazine Popped it inside the AR-15 Put it aside, round up the regime While you rely on religion, I hold a nine On the mission, to pull fire on your opposition Revelation was the vision of this Crack the heavens, it's time to bring the business, shit My story goes back to the Mars Pyramids I've seen things that you won't believe exist You's a luna-tic, suspended in time, Dunn The secondary light got your mind You rock the fatigues, to squabble 'til [?] popular [?] guns But are you really prepared, for the things to come? [Verse 2: KRS-One] Check it out True underground sound from the Boogie Down Uptown Downtown gather round for the showdown, in they faces Calling out these racists, at Rolling Stone Spin Details and other places, KRS is The Source Fuck these magazine leadin hip-hop off course You'll print about Black Mayors, Black Senators Why you ain't got no Black Editors? Everytime I do an interview in Rolling Stone They sendin me a writer that look like he's Home Alone Ignorant, to the culture and the microphone This has got to stop -- your whole spot Is blown sky high, battle why try? My view is bird's eye, scopin with my third eye You don't understand, why you're publically banned Until you recognize the writing skills of a black man Black Editor, all of us ain't thuggin Gossiping over who's homosexual Some of us are Black Intellectuals, up in Harlem World You can't get with me, so now in Midtown You wanna stop and talk to me? Bitch ass journalist, is this your fake hip-hop publication? Look I'm burnin this [Verse 3: Method Man] How many didn't want to see it happen Street moves, live from Staten, if life is a joke, nobody laughin Hate to see a brother do good through legal action So you sabotage and throw a Def in the Squad Fo'-fo's blastin, keep the po-po flashin These Dark Soul Assassins, Jake's hate the Gods with a passion So I keep it movin in an orderly, fashion Pedal to the floor -- peep the Jim Crow law, mind control theory Y'all niggas don't hear me, Generation Next Droppin fast who's next, next to get wet By the reign of the tech-knowledgy, follow me Open up wide now, swallow me, every calorie Is reality the truth, the whole truth and Nothin but the truth, taste is the proof These niggas want the Juice, and in the crossfire Be the youth, who didn't learn to duck when they shoot [Verse 4: KAM] What kind of party is this, it's that political kind Where America's best, most hypocritical minds Try they hands at keepin y'all deaf dumb and blind And for the right dollar sign, do white collar crime Behind suits, and clean shaves I confuse em and use em as tools and slaves Because my schools is graves and jobs is plantations -- I robs the damn nation So I can live in luxury, you fucks with me You marryin the dirt and I'mma throw in the tux for free I tell the people what they wanna hear I make em laugh and cheer, and then they re-elect me every year So when the coast is clear, I stop duckin And start back doin dope, cussin and fuckin I kiss the babies, shake hands, wave and smile for flicks That's my style, my pol-i-tricks Triple-Six convicts, lyin is automatic In the government, Republican or Democratic Fuck Freedom, Justice and Equality Nigga just accept my apology and suck this trick-knowledgy ************************************************** Two More Mins[Intro] Ugh Hah Whoa Yeah Meth Lab 2 Let's go Hah Look [Verse] I'm underrated, no attention from under payment I undertake 'em where underground is an understatement These underages ain't understandin' I'm undegraded Under my status, you'll see my picture, right, I'm the greatest I'm compenstated, one composition, it's complicated My competition, number two, but it's constipated This unconditional, unconventional condemnation It's to convince you to find your way out the conversation I'm so amazin', break fast when most waitin' The beef bakin', eggs is runny, my toast raisin' Suppose I blaze 'em A lot of haters and most hate 'em Ain't gotta name 'em or name the city that don't claim 'em And I don't blame 'em, ultimately there's ultimatum It's all verbatim, these rappers finished before I say 'em Before the mayhem, there was Method, see mother made 'em But mother F 'em in every method his mother gave 'em So many rappers to kill, where did the time go? Might even be a friend of the family but you ain't mine, though Choppa to the side of ya top, it'll let your mind go Don't test that Big Poppa that you ain't Ready To Die for Die hoe, it's Snow White sniffin', I kill you, heigh ho Unless you're one of Destiny's Children, you won't survive, hoe So many rappers to kill, where did the time go? Might even be a friend of the family but you ain't- Yo, look, who sippin' bones made from tiger? Robbin' that vagina like the dream was made in China Hard timer, son could be the shooter and the driver Off the rack, find her like you see no Future in Desiigner No disprect to either, I'ma rhymer Give Aretha to Obama Got a problem? give 'em Ether I'm tryna smash once, you could keep her I gave that trick the thumb, "bye Felicia" My Method just as blunt as my Cohiba [Outro] Two more minutes Done ************************************************** Killing the Game[Verse 1: Pretty Blanco] Yeah, nah, nah You ain't never run into a goonie in the boonies, better hope I let my toolie out (Huh) But I ain't never lackin', boy, you actin' when I catch you up in traffic, I'ma put one in your dome (Pop pop) 'Cause the day I lost my brother, I was sittin' with my mother and she told me I would never be alone (Yeah) So I grabbed that four-five, why should homie be alive when he got my best friend? Now he gone No, this shit just so wrong (Yeah) Remember his cousin was callin' my phone (Brrrp) Like, Blanco, let's get him, I know where he headed He need to be deaded, let's go So we hit the road, gone off them shrooms like I'm Toad (Whoop) Hoppin' to Fourth, that four-forty-four close It's on, soon as you see 'em, let go Reloaded it and dump it some more (B-r-r-r-p) So we posted up by the store Freezin', it's twenty below Blowin' this weed by the O We just 'bout to leave and then, yo, I think I just seen me that fiend that hit Gene and my bro He's right on the corner with Steven and Joe Now it's open season, I'm fiendin' to blow So Lee hop up outta the whip, when he let that shit rip, I saw all of 'em three on the floor, whoa But I guess what can I say? I hit JFK and was back to LA (Whoo) A thief in the night and a thief in the day So I take what I want, while I'm chiefin' the J Huh, while I'm chiefin' the J Be careful out here in them streets where you play Be careful out here when you speak what you say 'Cause your ass will get cut up, the meat, the filet, like whoa [Chorus] We killin' these lames, so my killers insane Watch how we killin' the game-we killin' the game We be killin' the brain and got me not feelin' a thang We killin' these lames, so my killers insane Watch how we killin' the game-we killin' the game We be killin' the brain and got me not feelin' a thang [Verse 2: Method Man] I'm back in my stash, we back in the lab Got killas in back of your pad with ratchets and masks We 'bout to catch us a bag,I'm fire, no matches or gas I'm mashin' the gas (Skrt), I done mastered the class Do not give these rappers a pass These rappers is trash I give these rappers the drag then ask, "Is you mad or you mad?" (Rah) Haters, I'm flickin' 'em all Critics have written 'em off Trick, I'ma boss I might not be bigger than Ross but still might be bigger than yours I smell like the vault She smellin' like Christian Dior But we don't be kissin' them broads, uh-uh, not at all I mean it, I seen it before Their momma a queen like Afeni Shakur Meth know the meanin' of floor They fiend to be king of New York But why if the kingdom is poor? Now we keepin' score Don't know what you figure me for Who told you the city was yours? (Aah) Round of applause and you get around just because (Ha) You wasn't down for the cause Provin' the form, hope it ain't you in the morgue See, this what I do when I'm bored Nothin' to do with the law Got nothin' to do wit'cha boy The cops'll put two in your boy Your day'll be worn for sure Soon as my key in the door and I get my feet on the floor Believe it, I'm eatin' some more Beastin' some more Beef, it don't need to be thawed (Rah) This is the reason I'm raw ************************************************** Play IV Keeps[Intro: Method Man] Ha, yeah yeah yeah, yeah yeah One time.. yo [Verse 1: Method Man] Never liked son from day one, bring you tool That nigga stick you and play dumb, hate a bitch-ass Who care where you came from, you ain't prepared For when the pain come, this nigga scared, shook to death From a cold stare, stuntin, knowin my brothers fiend To do you somethin over here, we head huntin In the function I smell fear, adrenaline start pumpin I Smash Pumpkins, Hard Rock be in the Cafe Tear the club up, and anyone that try to judge us The last days, makin sure I get the last say In the food chain, is you predator or prey? If you featherweight, lyrics blow your back Crack your vertabrae, lookin for a better way To get my point across, thoughts accelerate At the same speed, of the muder rate Lord, never perpetrate a fraud, til my nigga Carlton Fisk See the boss, truly yours, Mr. Meth [Verse 2: Street Life] Life's a snippet, one way ticket Time tickin fast, blink you might miss it Semen on Street shit, you might catch fifty stitches Body bag sprayed up, buried in muddy ditches I play for keeps, bust heat you catch cold feet My rap sheet, speak for itself, concrete Evident, Killa Hill, resident, double dart agent Secret intelligent my rap style's flagrant [Hook x 2] Feel the sting of a killa bee, Johnny Blaze Street Life, Deck and Mobb Deep, Play IV Keeps In the city that you never sleep, pay attention Ain't no shittin when you gotta eat, we hold it down [Verse 3: Inspectah Deck] I move like Mad Max 'cross the wasteland One hand holds the head of the last brave man Made man, Cuban Link chain of command Authorized fam', hot like Sahara sand My live team turn the club to a crime scene High beams flash, promoters die behind CREAM Get your face blown, might face the chrome We take this more serious than just a poem [Verse 4: Havoc] I think about a lot of shit, especially when I'm bent About the foul shit goin on in my life, current event It's evident I smoke ciggarette down to Brownsville Thinkin to myself -- how many lives must my pound kill? Hopefully none, ain't the one to give chase Hemmed by Jake, worryin who might turn state's So I chill, put my killa niggas on the battlefield On the low plottin silent murderer, never doubt still Never follow beef hey beef follow me Wanna settle in the court I say settle in the streets Like our pops did it, you got gats get hot with it Now you dry snitchin, because you got knocked with it I just rock with it, go with the flow, think for a hot minute Stash my dough secure the funds of profit [Verse 5: Prodigy] Yo, extreme rhyme niggas, you wastin your time Fuckin with my niggas, extrordinary line swishin Your mind out position, tryin to figure this shit Rewind it and listen quick, you might miss this Olympic, rap jave-lon, travel beyond, your weak song Doin this for too long, to not come strong You're only a pawn of Viet Dong Tryin to form against mines, you musta just been born Secluded on a distant farm This is the real world, where niggas get shot and shanked Where there's tremendous pain, you get your frame inflamed Crushed to dust, by the next man's clutch It's Infamous you fucks, intense bad luck.. [Hook x 2] [Outro] Stand strong on our two feet, we all ready For a war here, fuck peace, what? Stand strong on our two feet, we all ready For a war here, fuck peace, peace ************************************************** The Turn"Everywhere I turn, I see, your face..." [Intro: Raekwon] Yeah, ah, yeah, yo, yo, yeah Yeah, motivate, motivate, from the gate, ya'll Yeah, aiyo, aiyo, aiyo [Verse 1: Raekwon] Yo, we the Gods, still tear the whole hood apart Darts that'll splatter through faces, taste niggas hearts I'm intellectual, plus professional And Walbaums to vegetables Shit is right here, like buyin' fly gear Dare any white man or fan nigga, ran through niggas Blew shotties in niggas lobbies, the grand RZA We left, the radio broke, I yoke my vocals, hittin' green smoke Allah Math', show me when the needle broke Numb the whole crowd up, stupid ass Loud fouled up Never knew what they had, now they proud of us Picture my vision, precision, lines jumpin' out of commission Divine got me, nigga, the boss, he pop me Rae, we gotta generate, lord, I feel the Ditech, the mildew Buy jets and vehicles, steal a little Wrap up the whole rap government [Verse 2: Method Man] Go 'head, ya'll floss wit' it Walk wit', I slap your boss wit' it Navy blue, New York fitted, I'm cold frost bitted Two puffs and off wit' it You'll smell the herb 'fore I lit it, the spots is forfeited Blocks is hot, feel the shot from the fo'-fitty With no regard for your boulevard, just the shit bag and bullet scar It's the Riddler, riddle me this, riddle me that Who the pretender? And who the door man that let them enter? The Wu-Tang, 36 Cham', what you smokin'? Got you in the game chokin', like Van Gundy coachin' Your street team, bunch of weaklings Don't ever let me catch your reaching Respect when a grown man is speaking Shh, keep on sleeping, and just like TLC, I keep on Creeping To five percent of ya'll, keep on teachin' The heat seeking missile official, that got issue Like Funk Doc got snot tissue, it's Hott Nikkels [Break] "Everywhere I turn, I see, your face, but you're never there" [Verse 3: Method Man] Shh... shit ain't over.. Okay, now, same shit, different day, grinding, gettin' paid Self at it, automatic, guns that spit and spray Gotta have it, ass grab it, time to slip and weight Godbody, House your Party, watch the Kid N Play Ya'll gon' make me go postal, up in this muthafucka House full of bloodsuckas and hoes that love hustlers Roll that izza, pour me another kizza Bigga, to my nigga, so drunk they can't get up Shotguns through nose, hot ones through foes Let the herb spots run til' the cops come Suppose I was just another stick in the mud On a Saturday thinkin', how I'ma get the fifth in the club See my crew thick, everyday I fights to prove it We comes undisputed, with batteries included Honey's "bee" like Meth, I be like what? They want some free CDs, I'm like "see these" nuts [Outro: Method Man] If ya'll muthafuckas gettin' high tonight, say all right, haha If ya'll muthafuckas gettin' drunk tonight, say all right, haha It be Tical, ok, haha, yeah, yeah, ok It be Tical, ok, haha, yeah.. ************************************************** I’ll Be There For You / You’re All I Need to Get By (Keep It Tight Mix)[Intro: Method Man & Mary J. Blige] Cheeba chebba, y'all You're all Cheeba cheeba, y'all I need Ya don't stop To get by Yeah yeah Ahh (W-w-wild, I'm about to blow) Cootie in the chair You're all Cheeba cheeba, y'all I need Ya don't stop To get by Yeah yeah Ahh (W-w-wild, I'm about to blow) Cootie in the, check it [Verse 1: Method Man] Shorty, I'm there for you anytime you need me For real, girl, it's me in your world, believe me Nuttin' make a man feel better than a woman Queen with a crown that be down for whatever There are few things that's forever, my lady We can make war or make babies Back when I was nothin' You made a brother feel like he was somethin' That's why I'm with you to this day, boo, no frontin' Even when the skies were gray You would rub me on my back and say, "Baby, it'll be okay" Now that's real to a brother like me, baby Never ever give my cootie away, and keep it tight, a'ight And I'ma walk these dogs so we can live In a phat-ass crib with thousands of kids Word life, you don't need a ring to be my wife Just be there for me and I'ma make sure we Be livin' in the effin lap of luxury I'm realizing that you didn't have to funk wit' me But you did, now I'm going all out, kid And I got mad love to give [Chorus: Method Man & Mary J. Blige] You're all I need To get by Ahh, all I need (W-w-wild, I'm about to blow) You're all Cheeba cheeba, y'all I need Ya don't stop To get by Ahh (W-w-wild, I'm about to blow) Come on [Bridge: Mary J. Blige & Method Man] Like sweet morning dew I took one look at you And it was plain to see (W-w-wild, I'm about to blow) You were my destiny With you I'll spend my time I'll dedicate my life I'll sacrifice for you Dedicate my life for you [Verse 2: Method Man & Mary J. Blige] I got a love jones for your body and your skin tone Five minutes alone I'm already on the bone Plus I love the fact you got a mind of your own No need to shop around you got the good stuff at home Even if I'm locked up North you in the world Rockin' three-fourths of cloth, never showin' your stuff off, boo It be true, me for you, that's how it is I'll be your Noah, you be my Wiz I'm your Mister, you my Mrs. with hugs and kisses Valentine cards and birthday wishes? Please Be on another level of planning, of understanding The bond between man and woman, and child The highest elevation, 'cause we above All that romance crap, just show your love (You're all...) Suck up on these [Chorus: Method Man & Mary J. Blige] You're all Cheeba cheeba, y'all I need Ya don't stop To get by Yeah yeah Ahh (W-w-wild, I'm about to blow) Cootie in the, tical You're all Cheeba cheeba, y'all I need Ya don't stop, ya don't stop To get by Yeah yeah Ahh (W-w-wild, I'm about to blow) Cootie in the chair, tical You're all Cheeba cheeba, y'all I need And ya don't stop, ya don't stop To get by Yeah yeah Ahh (W-w-wild, I'm about to blow) Cootie in the chair, tical You're all Mary J., y'all I need And Methical To get by (Like sweet morning dew) Yeah yeah Ahh (W-w-wild, I'm about to blow) (I took one look at you) Cootie in the chair, tical You're all (And it was plain to see) Cheeba cheeba, y'all I need (You were my destiny) Cheeba cheeba, y'all To get by Cheeba cheeba, y'all Ahh (W-w-wild, I'm about to blow) You're all Yeah I need To get by Ahh (W-w-wild, I'm about to blow) What's that shit that they be smokin'? You're all I need To get by Ahh (W-w-wild, I'm about to blow) You're all I need To get by Johnny Blaze Ahh (W-w-wild, I'm about to blow) You're all I need To get by Ahh (W-w-wild, I'm about to blow) [Outro: Method Man & Mary J. Blige] Man, woman, and child, I'm here Ooh ooh, ooh ooh, ooh ooh, ooh ooh Oh, you're all I need (W-w-wild, I'm about to blow) Anything, anything you need, yeah (W-w-wild, I'm about to blow) ************************************************** Afterparty[Intro: Method Man] Damn... yo, yo [Method Man] Woke up in the morning, like ten A.M Walked passed the Listerine, went straight for the gin Osama Bin Laden on my chinny chin chin [Ghostface Killah] Yo, Meth, the mailman! [Method Man] Yo, Ghost, let him in! [Ghostface Killah] Will you sign, Mr. Ghostface, package for a friend, here Right by the X, my bad, here's a pen [Method Man] Gucci flip flops, I box my way to the kitchen My keys is missin', my trees is missin' No more parties, cuz Doc need to listen [Ghostface Killah] Cuz something in my closet, go look (he's a pissin') I cursed this bitch out, we be laid back [Method Man] Half a box of cereal gone, my milk's warm Thta's wrong, this is John John, pro and con phenomenon Stretch with a morning yawn, party 'til the break of dawn Ladies throw your faces on, sing it when the break come on [Hook: Method Man (Ghostface Killah)] Ichi, ni, san, shi Boats (suites) dough (beats) No cat give you these, rap flow triple g's Meth, Ghost, Killa Beez, you know we ride [Ghostface Killah] Wu-Tang, the best rap group of all time Rush little shotgun, rest around nine Refrigerator, fish and sweets with no swine Dirty and Meth guest room with four dimes And U-G. had a Masta headache Him and Genius flew back from, Uganda black, gettin' that cake Where Divine at? Wine at Tell a DJ to rewind that, Killa killed it wit a blind back Dime sack, you know we blew that wit the cognac Them bowling ball lead head niggas, we call them pawn yacks [Method Man] I say my girl, like to party all the time, Ghost Spend up my ends, every week, she always cryin' broke Thank God it's friday, I just got paid Feelin' good like I just got laid The next drink's on me, instead of, oh God, you think O.G White girls they comin' out, like they Pink on E So you better get the party started, we get it crunk regardless We got the 'dro and hypnotic, them kids is puffin' garbage Is where it's crackin' at, Street is you passin' that? Mami's is grabbin' ass, Johnny, I'm grabbin' back You know my habitat, you know my peoples If you wit me, where you at There ain't nothin' compared to that, come on! [Hook: Method Man (Ghostface Killah)] Ichi, ni, san, shi Boats (suites) dough (beats) No flows ill as these, M and Ghost, nigga please Meth, Ghost, Killa Beez, you know we ride [Hook 2X: Method Man (Ghostface Killah)] I got me some Seagram's gin Everybody got they cup, but they ain't chipped in (These cheap muthafuckas be grown ass men Tight muthafuckas finish your shit then they bounce off with them) Come back again, drunk off your gin And when they try to get you for they ends, that's no friend That's no friend, eh, eh [Outro: Method Man] Yeah, greedy muthafuckas, always wanna get high But never wanna buy, first one to come to the party Last one to leave, man, fuck all that Aiyo, Mr. Streetlife, tell 'em where we come from man.. ************************************************** Know Your Role [The Rock Theme]Do you smell what The Rock is cooking? I smell it Do you smell what The Rock is cooking? I smell it Come on, come on Do you smell what The Rock is cooking? Yo, finally The Rock has come back Layin down the smack on your monkey crap candy coated ass Enter the squared circle with the Great One Most electrifying moves, don't change the station Children and their children, they all chant With the millions upon millions of Rock's fans Get ready for the square dance, here's your chance For a can of ass whooping, from the People's Champ If you smell what The Rock's cooking If you smell what The Rock's cooking Do you smell what The Rock is cooking? If you smell what The Rock's cooking If you smell what The Rock's cooking Do you smell what The Rock is cooking? Jabroni, check yourself, you don't know me Jabroni, go back to the gym, you're too bony So you want a piece of The Rock? Make you crumble In these Wrestlemanias, kid, we Royal Rumble Telling us that Raw is War, what the hell you think we came for? Just to play with these whips and chainsaws? And sharp glass I'll shine them up real nice, turn them sideways And shove them up your candy ass If you smell what The Rock's cooking If you smell what The Rock's cooking Do you smell what The Rock is cooking? If you smell what The Rock's cooking If you smell what The Rock's cooking Do you smell what The Rock is cooking? Yo, yo, this is it y'all, Summer Slam, Summer Sam'd out It's Thursday Night Smackdown, there's No Way Out Now you got a problem, with the Brahma Bull Time to throw Rock Bottom Ain't no way to stop him See the People's Eyebrow, ignite the crowd Into a feeding frenzy, they want blood now Chinlock and chair shots, suplexes, legdrops Finish with the People's Elbow and sign it Rock If you smell what The Rock's cooking If you smell what The Rock's cooking Do you smell what The Rock is cooking? If you smell what The Rock's cooking If you smell what The Rock's cooking Do you smell what The Rock is cooking? If you smell what The Rock's cooking If you smell what The Rock's cooking Do you smell what The Rock is cooking? If you smell what The Rock's cooking If you smell what The Rock's cooking Do you smell what The Rock is cooking? Do you smell what The Rock is cooking? Do you smell what The Rock is cooking? Do you smell what The Rock is cooking? Do you smell what The Rock is cooking? ************************************************** The Oath[Intro: The Night's Watch Oath] Night gathers, and now my watch begins It shall not end until my death I shall take no wife, hold no lands, father no children I shall wear no crowns and win no glory I shall live and die at my post I am the sword in the darkness I am the watcher on the walls I am the shield that guards the realms of men I pledge my life and honor to the Night's Watch For this night and all the nights to come [Verse 1] Night gathers, my watch begins To manifest 'til death, and it shall not end I take no wife, no land, father no children I wear no crown, win no glory and I shall not bend I am the shield that's here to guard the realms of men I been in hell, while they're asking where the hell I've been I am the sword in the darkness, the watcher of all That means I'm heartless, bigger they come harder they fall I pledge my life and my honor to the Night's watch For this night and nights to come I give my life, watch See the black crow, watch it revolve Some call us black brothers Ice watch, colder than yours, we wear them black colors [Hook] Are you even man enough to take the oath Man enough to take a dagger to a throat Or are you only man enough when it matters the most? Whats the matter? You was thinking your life mattered? It don't [Interlude] Do you know what leadership means? It means that the person in charge gets second guessed by every little twat with a mouth But if he starts second guessing himself, that's the end [Bridge][x2] I am the sword in the darkness, the watcher of all That means I'm heartless, bigger they come harder they fall (Night Watch)(x2) [Hook] [Outro] This is not the end, not for us Not if you lot do your duty for however long it takes to beat them back ************************************************** Release Yo’ Delf (Prodigy Remix)[Verse 1: Method Man] Check it, I'm the fucking man, who they mention Noticed that other niggas rap styles is bogus Doo-doo compared to this versatile voodoo Blazing, the stuff that ignites stimulation Inside ya, cause I be that hell sure provider Providing the rhyme that be deep as the Poseidon Adventure Niggas need to test they freaking tincture For the sickness that be spreading with the quickness Remedies, cousin I be doing on my enemy Penalty, then I drink forties to they memories Emotion, coursing through your town street vicinity Blunt smoke in the air reveals my identity [Chorus: Method Man] What's that rhythm, what's that sound? Party people getting down When it hit no doubt about Just release, yo delf!! [Break 1: Method Man] Keep it movin', baby, we be movin', uh And keep it movin', you know we keep it movin', uh Keep it movin', baby, we be movin', uh And keep it movin', you know we keep it movin', uh And keep it movin', baby, we be movin', uh And keep it movin', you know we keep it movin', uh And keep it movin', baby, we be movin', uh And keep it movin', you know we keep it move RHARHHH! [Verse 2: Method Man] My God, somebody said it's on, if it is then I'll be set To blow a nigga up with my "Five Fingers of Death" I bring it to his whole damn fam, understand if you fronting On any man down with the Clan, I be coming For the headpiece you can't cope For my brother, I bring it to the Pope, word to mother Serial killer style from the Isles of Stat My peoples are you with me, where you at? Shit's getting deep in here, I mean like thick Niggas looking all in my face like they want dick It's about to hit the fan, hit the floor That's all I can stands, and I can't stands no more What is it? Niggas think they bigger Because they got their finger on the trigger of a biscuit They don't know I'm wicked when I start to kick it Eat they raw sound, wash it down with a Mistic Better yet a Snapple Nigga want the juice but he don't want the hassle So we're trying to overthrow the castle Better yet the temple I'm coming to your town black down The rental car, the pistol cocked If you don't want to burn from the Glock Then beware, I buck shots, meaning what? The buck stops here, no more dough will be made Unless it's being made by who? [Chorus] What's that rhythm, what's that sound? Party people getting down When it hit no doubt about Just release, yo delf!! [Break 2: Method Man] Keep it movin', baby, we be movin', uh And keep it movin', you know we keep it movin', uh And keep it Movin', baby, we be movin', uh And keep it movin', you know we keep it move RHARHHH! [Outro: Method Man] "And keep it" "And keep it" "And keep it" "And keep it movin', baby, we be movin', uh" "You know we keep it" "We keep it movin'" ************************************************** Suspect Chin Music[Method Man] Suspect chin niggas, no win niggas Send niggas back to go, try again niggas All hail me, the good the bag the ugily The money's around your way, lovely Where for art thou Meth-tical god-child I pack a smile like crocodile profile Can't hold it down? oh the shit gon' hit the fan now Spin around let your who'sle crown man down, man down [Street Life] I live by the street code never old Never love a ho, never flash the dough Cause you never know who friend or foe Got block control solid gold thought Before the blow lets stroll through the ghetto Habitat with no parole Never snitch switch which Keep a fresh pair of kicks Split the tongue snatch the weed In case the cops wanna strip search Think first prepare for the worst When you do dirt Remember there's a million other niggas with the same thirst [Method Man] No doubt dummy out Bets pull the money out Niggas walk a funny route This is what its all about? Young guns and dum-dums Slum bums and sons Askin' niggas where they come from Get him for his ones, um Sunshine, its crunch time Stranded on the front line Ducking from the one-time Niggas on the run, where the cameras can't come, ha Make this one the anthem Ring around the rosie Pocket full of Grants, uh [Bridge] Just because you wild in the club you ain't thug Sport gloves and gold mugs you ain't thug Tattoos and hard screws don't make you thug Sucker for love catch a slug, nigga [Hook] Suspect chin niggas, no win niggas Send niggas back to go, try again niggas Shotgun slammin' in your chest piece, blaow Shotgun slammin' in your chest piece, blaow [Street Life] Carry a ox and avoid spots Cell blocks rap blow you for your slot time What you got's mines We can take it to the yellow lines and we can pull nine Whether the rhyme or the crime I'm a still shine Heavy on the street talk, cut your life support short Never had no love for you so it ain't no love lost Strictly enforced by a street source, get double-crossed Hands off, I run with the torch [Method Man] They got me fed up from the head up Put up or shut up On stage in them shiny get-ups? Niggas is funny Energizer bunny actors They hustle backwards Son, I think they gay rappers, say word Drops will slash ya, darts splash ya Party crasher, the spell caster Heard the same before and after It's over Slug hit your brain, end of game Dun, its over End of the line, out of time, bitch its over On the wrong street with no heat, hmm, it's over We soldiers somebody should've told ya [Hook] Suspect chin niggas, no win niggas Send niggas back to go, try again niggas Shotgun slammin' in your chest piece, blaow Shotgun slammin' in your chest piece, blaow Suspect chin niggas, no win niggas Send niggas back to go, try again niggas Shotgun slammin' in your chest piece, blaow Shotgun slammin' in your chest piece, blaow [Street Life] With the W burning through your flesh Verbally possessed, never second-guess Blow minds like David Koresh Fuck a vest, you need a gun to protect your assets Deep in the Aztecs, break out before the sun set Street wars, gimme yours, crime is what I live for Got rhymes galore, next time it's at the Wu store If you sleep late, next date is at the cest gate All you sober mc's, I leave y'all niggas half-baked [Method Man] Microphone is in a choke hold Losin' control, bringing drama by the boatload It takes drama In the pillage now of Cappadonna My split persona hit their village and their baby mama Y'all niggas playing with this money while we stay hungry And kept it pudgy it won't make me have to crash, dummy Before its over You should keep your chain tucked in And should never run your mouth with a suspect chin Now lay it down [Bridge] ************************************************** Killin’ Fields{intro, some lady, whatEVA} {Method babbles for a bit about Wu affiliates} [Method Man] Shoes full of dirt, kicking sand on your works Something gotta hurt, catch a case off a verse Live in concert, kids coming out they shirts I'm hyped now, jumping in the crowd, feet first Meant it when I said it, lungs bring the pain son Without the anesthetic, make em look pathetic Needing help from paramedic, Hot with the Nickel Bust back take em with you, survival of the fittest And the world out to get us, I feel it in my bones I can feel it in my testosterone when it's on Stat' bring it back, hard rap for your pussycat Cognac, off the meat rack, where the pussy at? Johnny, got these niggas mad at they mommy Jumping on my hard salami, say what you like In the heat of the night, I crash individuals Splash on the mic airtight with the lyrical [Chorus: Cho-Flo & Method Man] Nigga run with it, have fun with it Blow your gun with it, and be done with it Welcome to the killing field where Johnny Dangerous Headbanger Boogie niggas going through changes [Method Man] It all starts with the pad and pen, my special blend Of herbs and spices on mic devices, murder men Make em mices I recommend, something that's priceless For you rap hooligans, claiming you nicest Call it what you like kid.. you can even call A psychic for all I care, still ain't got a prayer Amongst the righteous, Blazini, cheat death like Houdini Word to Bad Bird that fucked nerds in bikinis Observer, lyrical flares, you being served From the gizzard, plucking yo' nerves with nouns and verbs From the ghetto to the suburbs, I must be heard Niggas get what niggas deserve You can put that on my Clan logo, Wu-Tang group or solo Bloody up my next promo With the blood of the next bozo, clown-ass niggas be loco Puffin on lye, cuckoo for cocoa [Chorus: Cho-Flo & Method Man] Nigga run with it, have fun with it Blow your gun with it, and be done with it Welcome to the killing field where Johnny Dangerous Headbanger Boogie niggas going through changes [Method Man] Yo yo, shit be hot in the kettle pot Twisted metal bust shot til the beef settle, forget me not City nights get a nigga hype, scar of life Send em back now we Poltergeist, ghost, tell em Who the number the one rap host? Huh? Verbal overdose leave em comatose, huh? The nigga with the golden throat is out to get you, Hot Nickel Bust back and take em with you, eye for eye Never lie, crossing my heart, hoping you die Somebody pat the engineer down, I think he wired I'm off the meat rack, quick to react, my niggas need that They need gats, cocking heat back, be out like Freejack The heat's on, you think one-eight, and Johnny's blamed Who that nigga burn biscuits, and spit flame Leave no witness, in the fast lane with shady bitches That only want me for my riches, I know your steez Terror Fabulous, caution, biohazardous degrees From this ravenous, MCs be yapping Meth be the co-captain, on Def Jam's that's close captioned For hearing impaired, to get a share, now what's happening Money to share, that's why we here And y'all actin, like we can't eat, like y'all eat Now we scrapping, out in the street I know your crew's hardheaded motherfuckers And I'm just like you [Chorus: Cho-Flo & Method Man] Nigga run with it, have fun with it Blow your gun with it, and be done with it Welcome to the killing field where Johnny Dangerous Headbanger Boogie niggas going through changes Welcome to the killing field, where Johnny Dangerous Headbanger Boogie niggas, going through changes I been in the ghetto all my life I swore to take that bitch for better or for worse, yaknowhatI'msayin? That's for life nigga y'know? Til death do us part.. ************************************************** BET Rapcity Freestyle[Verse 1: Big Tigger] Aight Rap City Tha Bassment, Big Tig', EQ, Method Man hey Method Man hey It's going down, check it out one time Off the top I guarantee there's no equal His new album in stores - Tical 0, man, The Prequel You know how we do when me and my crew bang Been rapping this kid, since he was down with Wu-Tang Back in the days, into the chamber 36 Big Tig' putting it down in dirty mix, provided by EQ Test me and my crew, guarantee you lose Man your whole crew snoozed Meth, Tical, standing behind me right now You know how we do, we keep it moving with freestyle I'ma step to the right, you blow the spotlight Dynamite, hey man come on and make it right [Verse 2: Method Man] Yeah, Mr. Meth AKA John John phenomenon AKA Alicia Keys boyfriend in the video, here we go Yo, yo, yo, oh shit lo and behold Rza and Meth got another ninja scroll Man I injure foes, send chills down their spines Like I'm December cold, never bend or fold Like a wallet. Can't call it, can't pretend to know Whack shit, turn my back on it like a friend that stole Been in the game ten years, I got ten to go It's the prince and the dark knight let's begin day-O Call me mister low maintenance Tell them ho's I'm like a doctor that lost his license I got no patients, I got time for wasting If you ain't fam you ain't relating These hating hot dog rappers is baking Without love, like a stoner without bud Your ass is as flat as a soda without suds Who got the nerve to think that Meth can't rhyme Put a nine to your skull and get that out your mind, mind Yes! Uh oh! Like Lumi Dee If Meth ain't that shit by now I'm soon to be When I choke hold mics I don't give'em room to breathe I'm just doing me, but girl if you're fine I'll do you free By now if you don't know who it be, don't make me tell Just know I killer Mike like that kid from ATL If you fail to plan, baby plan to fail See my game ugly ... like Sam Cassel I'm so funky I can't even stand the smell Come on, life's a drag, roll it up and inhale Don't get comfy, I cramp your style like a monthly Even Demi Moore need more than Ashton Kutcher to punk me My 4-5 bars, just one shot'll clear the block Like it's time for 106 & Park Staten Island dropping your ass, we mean business My gun'll put a shot in your ass Like free clinics ************************************************** Water[Verse 1: Method Man] Riding dirty, got a Ruger in your lap Black suit, 7:30, couple shooters from the trap They done killed the homie brother What you s'posed to do with that? Who gon' tell his baby mother that her dude ain’t coming back? That kind of pain is hard to put into a rap The block is hot and can’t nobody move a pack When you shooting on-site, you aim the Ruger at his naps Cut his tongue, hog-tie him, things we usually do to rats What? Who gassed you up and threw a match? Don’t want police to line you up and you a match Fool them clowns into thinking you a snack Brought a gun to wash it down and you can drink it through the tap That’s my reaction, now react Now try to picture Malcolm X without the strap If Meth Man could navigate the globe without a map I could beat the pussy up without a scratch [Chorus] (x2) Time ticking teams quick to get ya I’m trying to bury about a trillion Meth's Lab bitch catch us on ya And when we coming, we be flowing likes it’s water [Verse 2: Chedda Bang] I’m so ignorant, spend it before I make it Pour salt on my food before I taste it Pour salt in your wounds, right in the basement All of us, statement, one vision, rich dreams Couple scars, I heal quicker than Wolverine Population, pink slips, quarter greens Hood millionaires hide when the wolves out Move with security, hold tight to your jewelry Uh – that’s my reaction, now react Once your hood pass revoked, you never get it back Benzes, Bentleys, nah nigga don’t tempt me Trust I got it on me, I’ma squeeze till it’s empty Lord forgive me, I need that new 550 With the cocaine seats, I’m so street And when the police came, we don’t speak From my hood to your hood, ain’t nothing sweet [Chorus] (x2) Time ticking teams quick to get ya I’m trying to bury about a trillion Meth's Lab bitch catch us on ya And when we coming, we be flowing likes it’s water ************************************************** New York[Intro] Okay, Yeah, yeah, [?] Back for another one bitch, Let's do it, Ha Staten Island stand up,(okay) Long Island stand up, (okay) Jersey, Yeah, Brick City nigga Funk Doc [Verse 1] Yo, I'll start this rhyme with how y'all feel in this bitch I'm finna to spit, got steel in my grip But I ain't talkin bout guns, I'm talkin mics, niggas stealin my shit Then try to act like they ain't feelin my shit Now if we talkin bout ones, I'm Russell Simmons I be talkin in tongues Fuck where you from and all the niggas you brung Punk, My clan don't sleep son, I put that on each one Be cool until the heat come, these pussies might eat some Nigga this is not pop music, unless your tryna pop shots to it Why would you have that Glock and not use it How could you hear this joint and not lose it You stupid, You need to shot from cupid to get love for this music Diamond in the ruff, Like iodine, Find me in the cut If not, probably find me in a slut, if I buy me a Dutch That means Mef Man's back with the stuff, Lot of back talkin backin it up [Chorus 2X] Now I like bein the man, I like weed in my hands I like my G's in advance, But y'all don't understand Me no like, fake niggas that ain't got the game right Me no like, when y'all killas pop shit and can't fight [Verse 2] Back in the zone, No backbone He stepped on and spat on, niggas don't last long If I don't get some act-right soon, I'm gonna act wrong I ain't tryin to get clapped on for makin these rap songs If you're misunderstood pimp, what would the hood think? To know that I've been swindled, bamboozled, and hoodwinked These rappers ain't like me, they see that there might be More to me then some Air Force Ones and a white tee, I'm nice B 6 foot 4, Un-cut raw, pocket full of straws, I'm that nigga to look for Want paper like a book store, ain't never been shook poor I switch from Method Man to Candy Man and the hooked off Still ain't nothin sweet though, Who wanna spit flows First learn to put the weed inside the bag and then get dough, (Then get dough motherfucker) Tell your peoples and kin folk, I been dope, Anything else is an insult. (God damn right) [Chorus] [Verse 3] So obnoxious that I'm toxic, Call that diarrhea Spit that hot shit, cause I'm hot bitch, And got butter-fingers Oops I drops it, load and locks it, Take the recipe that’s been concocted Got women just like a vehicle, Topless First You see what I'm worth, Pullin paper straight out the wood work Until I push dirt, Shit I hate to fuck up a good shirt But damnit I'm back, I done relapsed, Shot a dose of some murder I wrote, Then lean back I'm part Ghost, Part Cappa, RZA, And Deck Part Dirty, Uey, GZA, Masta Killa, And Chef But I'm all Mef, All vet, Killers I'm complex Niggas, Have yet to blow up, Nothin but bomb threats New York yall, Shoot or shank me, I bleed Yankee I'm hot dog, Yall ain't nathan to put it frankly I find excuses to finally lose it, Then write exclusive And he like VH1, You know behind the music [Chorus] ************************************************** Somebody Done Fucked Up[Intro: Method Man] Yeah... one-two, one-two, it's Big M-E-F The phenom from Vietnam, fresh out of rehab, yo On my way the weedspot, haha, what's good? Fuck that, what's hood? Staten Island Advance Big up to my man Magic down in MIA, what up cuzo? [Hook: Method Man] Knock-knock, who is it, ah shitted Hot peas and butter, come and get it Somebody done fucked up, now Meth spit it, I comes with it Quick to tell these critics, eat a did-ick Somebody done fucked up, now Y'all done did it, done stepped in it Now run and tell them niggas who the realest Somebody done fucked up, now Can you dig it, you'll never stop the kid up in the fitted Live with it, somebody done fucked up [Method Man] Look, I'm cutting corners on these clowns, marijuana and pounds Found with Staten Island niggas that run up on you with rounds Take a drag, pass it around, guess who back in your town And the crowd vict', with Officer Brown patting him down Shit's thick, thick as harmony grits, cuz with some thugs Ain't no, harmony bitch, them niggas probably snitch Y'all be the judge, look what happened to Cocheese What happens when your co-d's is talking to police, you dig? Half a cig, let me fuck with ya wig, although you loving the style They're ain't a pedophile could fuck with the kid Now that I'm back up on my, feet, take it back to the streets In the GM with your BM, in the passenger seat Riding hood, by my hood, ain't no hike in the wood Life is good, it's so good, live it twice if I could Man, it's me, once again it's that Wu-Tang Crushing the shit that you bring, you know how we do things [Hook] [Method Man] Yo, pulling my shoes up, scuffing my Timbs, back to when? Puffing again, who stunting, cops fucking with them Feeling the blow, goosebumping the skin, and on the scale Of nothing to ten, a ten, man, it's nothing to him See you can tell by how I'm clutching my pen, like Mae Weather touching her chin She stunting, going up in her friend Tell the label give me something to spin, and every light got a price You want a slice, but we ain't cutting you in Man, these fiends know my past work, held a monkey until they back hurt Money talking, wonder what that's worth And MCF, mean Cash First shit, picture the kid On the beach in Hawaii, minus the grass skirt Blast first, ask questions last Black herse, nigga, stretch yo ass, y'all niggas know what this is It's New Yitty, this ain't just a fad It's M-E-F, and I ain't Biggie, but I'm just as Bad, Boy [Hook] [Outro: Method Man] Yeah, Big M-E-F, Staten Island Advance, motherfuckers Word up, don't ever count me out, just count me the fuck in I'll be back for more... ************************************************** Problem[Intro: Method Man] You don't want no problems, problems You don't want no problems, problems Yeah... real man... with ya stinkin' ass Come on... that's my nigga right there... let's do it Never count me out, nigga, just count me in... yeah... [Method Man] Look, I ain't came to bone these chicks Not this time, I got a bone to pick, I got a zone of piff Now, who that nigga in the zone and shit Back in the building like he own the bitch, nobody cold as this If I ain't got it, then it don't exist I spit that bird flu, my flows is sick, I'm still as ill as they come Protect Ya Neck, when you dealing with them Now Erick stick a fork in him, he done, hah It boggles the mind, like try'nna 'ketchup' to a bottle of Heinz It's like forensics try'nna follow the crime, they want time And sometime, a nigga had to swallow them dimes While 85 percent swallowing swine, see Wherever he roam, it's all gravy, man, whenever he home Long as I got myself I'm never alone, feel even better with chrome If there's a problem, nigga, let it be known And while I sleep, my bitch be checkin' my phone, cause I'm a problem, nigga [Hook: Method Man] Ease up, or put them g's up Scream at ya frog, nigga leap up (now who got a problem with that?) They need to beast up, nigga, speak up or Forever hold they peace up (if they got a problem with that) Hey you (don't want no problem nigga) Hey you (don't want no problem nigga) Hey you (don't want no problem nigga) Hey you (don't want no problem nigga) Hey you ("Believe, what I say, when I tell ya" - DMX sample) Yeah, you, nigga, you don't want no problem with that [Method Man] Look, my Clan all one in the same Until my name number one in the game, it's not a game, nigga Like Billy Danze, I be running with Fame Me and my lynch mob coming to hang, it's Wu-Tang for life Hard body, another day in the life Credit his momma now for raising him right, just want the people to know I'm bout to blow, like I'm shaking the dice Making me mad? Nah, y'all making me right, cause y'all was taking me light So let my pen talk and say what he like And have the court system say and indict, I'm O.J.ing the mic Liquid plumber, I be laying the pipe And if it's tight, girl, I'm staying tonight Not only raising on the price, on M.C.'ing, but I'm raising the bar And if you scary, nigga, wait in the car Motherfuckers I'm hard, hard as cooked up in mayonaise jars Purple haze, Cuban layed cigars, I'm a problem, nigga [Hook] [Method Man] E, you know I'm just like that Big baller nigga, just like Shaq, so come on, niggas If they bust, I better bust right back Meth spit it from the gut, like *gunshot* man down I'm that dude, hands down, stand down I'm past due, for Cash Rule, y'all can't clown I'm bank now, your ass lose, nothing but rhyme New York Times, I'm bad news, and I'mma problem, nigga [Hook 2X] ************************************************** Rodeo[Intro: Method Man] Yeah... yeah (come on ride in my rodeo, come on ride in my rodeo) This one of another one of them nasty M-E-F joints, come on, come on Come on (come on ride in my rodeo, come on ride in my rodeo) [Method Man] To all the chicks with they asses thick Out the whole click, she the baddest bitch Dose-doh, round your partner, switch Clan in Da Front, we be starting shit No don't trip, dog, spark 'em, quick Holla when a real nigga talkin', trick We got grip, but we ain't spendin' shit You and your friends, stop pretendin' trip [Ludacris] Let a nigga get nut pushed, better yet let a nigga get some head I work 'em, work 'em or feed 'em, burp 'em, then jerk 'em, instead I get my nuts pushed, on the bottom to the top of your gums I feel your slurpin', slurpin, I'm skeetin' and squirtin' your tongue And I got about 5 grand, but I won't be spendin' a dime See cuz overspendin's a crime and I can't be spendin' my time If you get your guts pushed, could be of cuz Luda and Meth Could be of cuz we do it best, could be of cuz we screw 'em to death [Hook: Method Man (Ludacris)] Come up out of them dirty clothes (bend on over and touch them toes) Uh-oh, we-oh, we-oh! (Come on and ride this rodeo) (Meth & Luda we lock and load) Round your partner, now dose-doh Uh-oh, we-oh, we-oh! (Come on and ride this rodeo) [Ludacris] I wonder where about five bottles of gin, models that wanna swallow And wobble, gobble again, tell a couple of friends I slap that ass, bitch, take a look and see what you got in Cuz I've been schemin' and plottin', to have you breathin' and stoppin' [Method Man] What we talkin' bout? Pussy poppin', car hoppin' women See 'em watchin', clockin', pigeons Flockin' Luda they jockin', lightin' buddha, and boots is rockin' Nameless hoes, take 'em brainless with painted toes Famous, she code, twerkin' pussy, hurtin', workin' that pole [Ludacris] They wanna raise that pussy tab, price and position Enticin' these women, given the proper juice Life that they livin', hope that they double douche Shifting ass cheeks, last week and Ludacris is backseat Afraid so, ass up, case closed [Method Man] Now watch me, dog 'em, freak 'em Out every weekend, she puttin' APB's on my dick I keep on bettin' and breathin', where's my pants, I'm leavin' I'm speakin' facts, mamies creepin' and they cheatin' They even sleepin' with mats, some be eatin' that cat I'm teasin', indecent expose, Method be tweakin' Keep pussies leakin' through pantyhoes, marijuana smell on my clothes This evening, these bunnies got me on swoll, I bust and reload Honey, break out the 'dro and give me some mo', on the rodeo [Hook w/ Luda & Meth switching lines] ************************************************** World Gone Sour[Hook] These kids are sour until the day that they're chewed down That's bad news now they now they bringin' bad news down First they're sour then they're sweet little dudes And they gonna fight the power till they food Now eat em up, Shut up and eat em up This beat goes hard I just gotta eat it up Its like I'm runnin , I gotta eat it up And when they candy goes raw just gotta eat it up [Verse 1: Method Man] Coming back out of the cracks of sofas and fanny packs This ain't a candy rap this is where the candy attacks See, when they lost that's when their sanity snaps They break laws, not jaw-breakers, but break jaws In fact, real heavy like a monkey on your back Got some thumb-tacks playing pin the donkey with your cat But fuck that plant a fire cracker where you dump at Right besides the shower where you keep the penis pump at Oh no, they creepin' like some ninjas in their dojo They knock the little man off the horsey on your polo Crushin' all your dreams, cut the string from your yo-yo Trade your Lamborghini for a Volvo I bet you thought that this was a promo But no-no, this is Boba Fett meets Han Solo Kids gone loco, until you sink your teeth in You know the motto, if life's a treat then you're eatin' [Hook] [Verse 2] Oh snap, look what fell out the patch Right in this fool's lap, how uncool is that All right jack, now you're on the wrong side of the map With a busted GPS and on the wrong side of the snacks They fight back, in fact they're rolling like the army Throw bleach in laundry, unfold your origami I like that some snacks sweeter in the end But then again, ain't nothin' sweeter then revenge Now they are on your Facebook deleting all your friends Clogging up your toilet with a poop eating grin All up in your closet cutting holes in every pocket That you like to keep your wallet and I promise I'm a pimp Wipe the music off your MP3 Burn a rug, pull the plug on your MTV This is thug vision in 3D These kids aren't worth it they play dirty like they are ODB ************************************************** Ya’meen[Intro: Method Man] Yo, I'm bout to hit you with this ya'meen On top of the ya'meen, with a lil' bit of ya'meen mixed in Ya'meen? Yeah... yeah... yo [Verse 1: Method Man] How should I get it started? Fuck it, just get it started These trash talkin' artists is nothin', niggas is garbage When Meth strike his target, leave it dearly departed His flow is clearly the hardest, y'all gon' feel me, regardless Might break a promise, but never, breakin' the code Some get popped and call for they mamma when the drama unfolds My block, hot as a sauna, marijuana and dough Crack deals on every corner, fiends run up on ya with soap And if life's a bitch, then I bet she's bitter and cold Erry'time she thinkin' I fold, seven figures get sold Meth all in your chest or inhale it all in your nose Cops don't know about this Method, but smell it all in his clothes Yup, I'm still intact, how real is that? I'm back With enough Sensamilla to fill ya vanilla wraps up New York, New York, rock tube socks and Timberlands 'Cause hip hop ain't feelin' them flip-flops, they feminine [Chorus: Method Man] I'm the one shot dealin', one shot killin' it (ya'meen) Yeah, it's the top billin', the block feelin' like (ya'meen) Yeah, fuck with me (ya'meen), yeah, fuck with me (ya'meen) If you not for squealing' and for spillin' the (ya'meen) The streets is watchin' the apple rotten like (ya'meen) Plus the B.B. hot and the towers droppin' like (ya'meen) Yeah, fuck with this (ya'meen), yeah, fuck with this (ya'meen) If you get it poppin', or get to poppin' 'em (ya'meen) [Verse 2: Fat Joe] You know the haters diss you, let's deal with bigger issues You know New York is dyin' after all the shit we been through And we done lost B.I.G., we done lost Pun Homie, you can't live, gotta go and get them guns You know them hammers'll lose your cabbage, them dudes do damage Send Zulu Nation through Reaganomics, we move them package We pushin' rain pain, gotta go and get that money Y'all going "hey hey", but don't that pen look lovely You - must - not - know - who - y'all niggas is fuckin' with I - can - take - life - nig... just for the fuck of it Crack's crazy, that nigga'll smack babies Clap ladies for yackin' you gon' catch shady Call it a mass shower, the way them hollow's drizzle Mr. Potato Head, you know them things can't miss you The Average Joe, with an average flow Me and Meth bringin' back New York, nigga [Chorus: Method Man] I'm the one shot dealin', one shot killin' it (ya'meen) Yeah, it's the top billin', the block feelin' like (ya'meen) Yeah, fuck with me (ya'meen), yeah, fuck with me (ya'meen) If you not for squealing' and for spillin' the (ya'meen) The streets is watchin' the apple rotten like (ya'meen) Plus the B.B. hot and the towers droppin' like (ya'meen) Yeah, fuck with this (ya'meen), yeah, fuck with this (ya'meen) If you get it poppin', or get to poppin' 'em (ya'meen) [Verse 3: Styles P] You don't like me, you can get what's right above the testicles S.P., turn the top five into vegetables You don't believe me? Get 'em all in the room And the next five, I plan to gettin' all of them soon Y'all can meet me at the table that's round, or get ya place in the ground That's what you get when you facin' me, clown Who got the crown? I'ma piss on it now while they wearin' it Nobody nicer than Ghost, I ain't hearin' it Been Nike Airin' it, white tee out Stick-up kid season when the dice be out I'm about to start investin' and liftin', niggas sippin' soup Ghost rap, I'm knockin' out your icey mouth Niggas in the East wanna unite, not me If you ain't sayin' I'm the best, you ain't come at me right Naw'Imean? If you don't, then you know how that beam The four-four knock little pieces off of your spleen, nigga [Chorus: Method Man] I'm the one shot dealin', one shot killin' it (ya'meen) Yeah, it's the top billin', the block feelin' like (ya'meen) Yeah, fuck with me (ya'meen), yeah, fuck with me (ya'meen) If you not for squealing' and for spillin' the (ya'meen) The streets is watchin' the apple rotten like (ya'meen) Plus the B.B. hot and the towers droppin' like (ya'meen) Yeah, fuck with this (ya'meen), yeah, fuck with this (ya'meen) If you get it poppin', or get to poppin' 'em (ya'meen) ************************************************** Bang Zoom[Hook: Eazy Get Rite] (Bang Zoom) Them hammers go boom, shoot ‘em up leave ‘em there and clear the room Nigga all I hear is (chick pow). So give it up now, that’s the type of shit that happens in my town Nigga all you do is (click clack), listen fuck that. All that bullshit hesitating get you clapped All I know is (zoom bang), letting my nuts hang. Out to get it, best believe I do my thing (yo its Staten Nigga) [Verse 1: Hanz] Hanz roll. Buzz swoll. Don’t be understanding how these corny niggas bold Life told, screenplay graphic when it unfold. Running with them killas made his heart cold Lights strobe. Cameras on him walking through the threshold Spanish bitches yelling dame besos. Watch glowed, earlobes frozen but we seek gold Mr. Barka. Yup, yup, beast mode. Meth labs, bishop in the city Get them grips grabbed, run up do him greasy. You’ll be shot, stabbed, got it looking easy Have ‘em zipped, bagged, to the morgue motherfucker Cash rules, so we berry everything. General smash fumes, dark Henny everything Peep the math, jewels yo we built for the struggle Hanz on, nuff said, bout his bread. Boy trouble [Hook: Eazy Get Rite] (Bang Zoom) Them hammers go boom, shoot ‘em up leave ‘em there and clear the room Nigga all I hear is (chick pow). So give it up now, that’s the type of shit that happens in my town Nigga all you do is (click clack), listen fuck that. All that bullshit hesitating get you clapped All I know is (zoom bang), letting my nuts hang. Out to get it, best believe I do my thing (yo its Staten Nigga) [Verse 2: Method Man] Meth man, yes Hanz, twenty years of love, they been throwing up them dubs That’s respect, damn, money, sex, drugs, you’ll get stretched, blam, tec nine up in the club That’s a tec jam, can’t wait to see him go, make ‘em hate to see me blow I’m a label CEO minus the yes man, Rick Rubin with the spliff That could spit it Ludacris, minus the Def Jam Mean while, stick ya for ya cream, red beam (chi-ca-bloow), Another John Coffey on that Green Mile Get it how I’m living, got an ounce of Steve Rifkind, that’s that green loud Yes sir, no child left behind, pump your brakes (scrrrrrrrr) Snitching in the kitchen you’ll get baked served, my life is like a movie All groovy I mean its all Gucci (burrrr) [Hook: Eazy Get Rite] (Bang Zoom) Them hammers go boom, shoot ‘em up leave ‘em there and clear the room Nigga all I hear is (chick pow). So give it up now, that’s the type of shit that happens in my town Nigga all you do is (click clack), listen fuck that. All that bullshit hesitating get you clapped All I know is (zoom bang), letting my nuts hang. Out to get it, best believe I do my thing (yo its Staten Nigga) [Verse 3: Streetlife] Streetlife, goon, platoon, locked reloaded, bang zoom. Gee coated, from the womb to the tomb I’m married to the game, this my honeymoon. Yes, I do, forever Wu Loyalty is royalty, cream blue. Code red, dangerous ground Street I’m heaven sent but I’m hell bound Top fie, hands down, Staten popular son, peace lounge Crown fitted for the king, I am, I suggest, you play the wing man Shine like a diamond, like bling blam. God body watch a nigga go ham Lifestyle episodes of Gangland. Thirty six shots from the chamber blam... [Hook: Eazy Get Rite] (Bang Zoom) Them hammers go boom, shoot ‘em up leave ‘em there and clear the room Nigga all I hear is (chick pow). So give it up now, that’s the type of shit that happens in my town Nigga all you do is (click clack), listen fuck that. All that bullshit hesitating get you clapped All I know is (zoom bang), letting my nuts hang. Out to get it, best believe I do my thing (yo its Staten Nigga) ************************************************** Say What[Intro: Missy Elliott (Method Man)] Yeah! This-this-this-this This is an exclusive (let's go) Mr. Meth, you're so Def, you put them other M.C.'s out to rest (that's right) And they test (uh-huh), but they forget (yeah) how the M-E-F is so Def (let's go) [Method Man] Yo, uh, come on, come on, now Big Meth attack soon as the track come on now Zone out, with Sean Combs and Bizzy Bone out (I see you in the club) And by one, I'm gettin' thrown out Mami, got her toes out, ain't one army can Blaze Johnny Like Gwen Stefani, you know there's No Doubt I'm trill, sick with it, it's like ill That's the only way to explain these mic skills On Homicide Hill, anybody asks is real The more steel, the more bodybags to fill Can I get, hit of that hydro, nigga I tried to quit puffin' before, but I'm no quitter If honey show me her buns, I'll show her my ones If the bed rockin', keep knockin' and I'mma cum Want some, take some, I get it crunk Speak junk, I'll slow up your road with speed bumps [Hook: Missy Elliott w/ P. Diddy doing ad-libs] When they play this in the club (say what?) Go and tell that nigga, bump that (say what?) Throw your hands up, like nigga, what? (say what?) Ya'll don't really really want that (say what?) And for whatever muthafucka, don't like it (say what?) Tell that sucka he can get back (say what?) Misdemeanor and Meth in your area (say what?) Are ya'll ready? Come on, play it back (saw what?) [Method Man] You wanna front, what? Step up and get bucked And if your feelin' lucky, duck, then press ya'll luck Ya'll got me effed up, over tracks overreact Once I start, like a bullet, ain't no holdin' me back I'm all that and two mac's, ya'll fakin' jacks When I cock back like Busta Bust and make 'em clap Here I go again, who blow in like whirlwinds Who kiss girlfriends, that kiss they girlfriends Got to get it, and when I'm gone Ya'll bury me with chrome, and tell hell I'm comin' home I'm poison, see my skull and crossbones Got aim like them kids in Iraq who toss stones And I got drugs in my system, we thugs in the system That put slugs in victims, Mr. M-E to F, bomb threat As long as I ain't no game, there's no contest [Hook] [Method Man] Ticallion is phatter than your fattest chrome chain I guess that should explain why I given the dope name Ain't nothin' free, everything got a fee How the fuck you got a car and ain't got a pot to pee? I'mma grown man, so I do grown man things Why take half, when I can have this whole damn thing? It's Meth, baby, drop top, navy Mercedes I'm number one like P.E. or Tracy McGrady It's all good, everything I spit, all hood And if ya'll gave me one wish, niggas, I wish ya'll would Who John Blaze? Uh, when ya'll gon' learn huh When I burn son, stick a fork in him he's done And ladies love to play, like Ladies Love Cool J For the right CREAM, the'll do anything you say She Ice Cream, I'm caked up with icing Mr. Sandman, come on, bring her a pipe dream [Hook] [Outro: P. Diddy] Let's work... come on Def Jam! Mr. Meth, Missy, Bad Boy Hitmen baby, let's work, come on Let's work, come on, yeah Uh, let's work... aiyo pass that nigga Joe Hooker, I see you, let's work, yeah ************************************************** Win Some Lose Some (It’s In The Game)[Intro] (Method Man) Pull your shoes up, don't get stuck Or get your frame struck, when my squad blitzin' Hittin' like Mack trucks, head splittin' paper written In windy cities like Chicago, no bullshh shh You see me spittin' at the kitten with the lost mitten As we engage in cold war gettin' frostbitten Once again up in these stank drawers baby listen One mind and for one cause, heavy hittin' The penalty illegal ruffnecks, we bring ruckus In pursuit of gold lines, can a nigga touch it If I can't see ya can't truss it A shady character like Buzz Buzzard Lay him out like a plush rugged Now you can love it, or leave it alone We drink death and puff bone Draggin' your body out the end zone And any way the wind blow that's where you flow That's why you be the first one caught, last to know Body layin' out on the flo', substitute Heavy players from the run and shoot, we open do' Third and long, quarterback pack the cannon on I go deep he drop bombs, that's when I touch down Six points, what now? Once again who comin' through in the clutch now, perfect strangerous? Ever since I came with this, and wrecked a body You convinced like Lombardi, that Johnny Dangerous Offensive shotgun Calm in the pocket I got one, in the milli gun Deep threats to chose from, that's how it goes son You win some you lose some, it's in the game [Hook] You win some you lose some that's how it goes son You win some you lose some it's in the game You win some you lose some, that's how it goes son You win some you lose some, it's in the game (Ricky Watters) From the football field (It's in the game, you win some you lose some, it's in the game) To the mountain, ya know what I'm sayin'? (That's how it goes son, that's how it goes You win some you lose some, it's in the game) Freestylin', profilin', won't catch me smilin' Straight from Fema Island, buckwhylin', I'm stylin' A funky type of style with the lyrical incision Shit locked down, like my niggas out in prison Good riddance, keep it hidden, up in my knapsack Sippin' cognac, while I vibe off this funky track Yo bring it back, or make it hit harder Infiltrate your mind like Nino at the Carter, but smarter So drop harder, if you wanna conjugate Verbs and nouns, make it profound as I pound In your ear piece I'm the beast To say the least, we must increase, the peace But keep it real, so I can feel, the skills Funky fresh rhymes I will build so I kill And thrill, lyrics spittin', through my lips Doing backflips, it's another hit Come take a sip, of the running Waters Lyrically I slaughter, mentally I author The rhymes that you feel to the map Crushin' double barrels, sing em out like carols Who it be? It be I, the nigga with the chinky eyes From NY, city we committee we gets busy With killa beez on the swarm Lyrically we storm, mentally a lord Verbally I bomb, guard your grill It's the man that chill, run for the hills from Grassville Drillin' rhymes straight on tracks and double cuff Another TV, and they loved it [Hook] ************************************************** Grid Iron Rap[Streetlife] I Silver Surf the city circuits, forever lurkin On the street surface, I spit blood for blood verses Grands man divided, we still stand, conquer land One man'll body slam Def Jam Focus your headcam zoom in, with radio tune in I know you're listenin, so I keep showin and provin Play the sideline, waitin for the right time to take mine Street crime, nickel and dime rhyme Fuck a peace talk, let the gun spark, on the streets of New York I Shaolin Strut through the city asphault (FED UP!) Hold your head up, I'm circlin the block, keep your eyes up Wise up, before you get sized up (TIED UP!) Play no games, speakin on my name, you catch a clipful From close range, diggin in your pocket, take the loose change [Method Man] Punch the data in your mainframe, you want it all I want the same thang, strive to maintain, live out my name Hard to obtain, hard to explain, ain't nuttin changed Leave the same way I came, bringin motherfuckin pain [Streetlife] Killa Hill Projects, high-tech street intellect Let's connect, blow your headset, fuck a mic check [Method Man] Ring around the underground, pocket full of sound Ashes to ashes, y'all niggas goin down Yo.. eat shit and die slow, battle ground no survival You goin down, y'all niggas fuck around Shittin where you sleepin, so my rhyme proposal Came indecent, beef from the butcher sink your teeth in [Streetlife] Fuck what you believe in, you real fake, fishin in the same lake Eatin off the same cake you blowface [Method Man] Who got that ready-cooked, synthetic look, actin crook Betty-shook worm, tryin to shake the hook, as the world turn Nigga burn, once again the supersperm Rub it in your skin, like it's Lubriderm, time took to write this The war will be fought by the righteous Who stand criticized, by his un-A*Alike-ness Knowledge is the jewel, and it's priceless Real like them Rahway Lifers, nuttin but time on my hands Observe the black sands in the hourglass, fallin fast In this savage land, haulin ass, Days of Thunder It's road rad, your days are numbered What RZA put together let no man tear asunder (motherfucker) [Streetlife] This is P.L.O., Killa Hill flow, but you don't hear me though Live in stereo, pump it loud until your speaker blow Ghett-io slang pro, sling rap to cashflow Keep it live from the intro until the outro Killa Hill Projects, high-tech street intellect Let's connect, blow your headset, fuck a mic check [Method Man] Ring around the underground, pocket full of sound Ashes to ashes, y'all niggas goin down [Streetlife] My dick! (My dick!) I'm on a suicide run, y'all niggas know the outcome Razor sharp tongue leave scars in your eardrum Forty-five bar seminar ghetto rap star Slide like water rats through the Staten Resevoir Swingin swords cut your mic cords, snatch your rap awards Commercial cats, fuckin up the game, that's why I crash boards Drape floors while you Jordan, keep on tryin yours Hardcore, somethin that my street niggas is dyin for [Method Man] Snap your neck and the dopefiend, Golgo 13 Professionals we know things, say no more Check my Dogs at the Reservoir, gourmet special of the day Is nigga souflee, pusher gotta pay And the games people play, John Jay back around the way Fish filet, Mr. DJ, turn it up a notch Hit the replay, for dirt bomb niggas in the PJ To cling-on, bring-on, the good times, to key-on Hook rhymes that's be-yond, your thinkin, for eons I been here, to shine on the black mind Tell you like the last time, year of the grimy nigga Ragtime, bad sign, flatline.. ************************************************** Fall Out[Intro: Kwamé] This - this is brought to you By the K-1 Emergency Broadcasting System In the - in the event of an actual emergency You will be told to... Fall out Fall out Fall out Fall out Fall out [Method Man] S.I., rockin' it N.Y., rockin' it Shit, we stay poppin' it 4-5, rockin' it Game, stay on top of it Lame, just the opposite It's no thang, when I bring the pain ain't no stopping it (hold on) Who the fuck is this? About to bring the ruckus This just ya boy, I'm some on other shit My nigga, take a puff of this Piff man, I'm loving this, is Staten Island up in this? Bitch, like we running it, and somebody wanna public (I'm coming) Turn it up a bit, so my thugs can thug a bit If I got my brother get, K, we got another hit Ladies please, where y'all puffin' them trees? I'm damaging M.C.'s, oxygen, you can't breathe, fall [Hook: Method Man (Kwamé)] (2x) Fall out, yeah, I'm going all out (hold on) Hold on, man, what's really going on (I'm coming) And when I'm coming, a hundred miles & running (keep back) Keep back, y'all ain't got it like that (fall out) [Method Man] Here we go again, herb-smoke, blowing in the wind Cops chasing, wanna throw him in the pen And the day he leave the game, yo, he going in the Benz On them 24's looking like he rolling on the rims All daying, knawimsayin', I'm staying up to par, parleyin' While y'all hating, I'm splitting this cigar Man, it's nathan, all y'all do is aim and start spraying Cuz tonight's the night, and me and my niggas ain't playing (keep back) Y'all done did it now, another critic kicked Tical Alotta niggas mad cuz I ain't fold like they figure, now Let me put my fitted down *hwak* Spit around Listen when this hit the ground, y'all gon' hear the difference now Here I got that miracle, sickest individual Flow that's so original, see this is what they meant to do It's not an act, it's all actual fact The kid is back, making tracks, catch panic attacks, and fall [Hook] (2x) [Method Man] Aww shit, ain't this about a bitch I give a fuck about a bitch, I'm more about a grip And I'm all that a nigga got, the more he gotta get Feeling like a million dollars, buyin' million dollar shit (keep back) What y'all dealing with, one shot killing it Stop changing my style, when y'all stop stealing it Meth is chillin' like milk top killing If it ain't got no real in it, I'm probably not feeling it (keep back) I'm deadin' ya kids, and burn another blizz What it is, what it is, Wu-Tang is for the kids So niggas please, why y'all puffin' them trees I'm damaging M.C.'s, oxygen, they can't breathe, fall [Hook] (2x) ************************************************** 50 Shots[Chorus: Method Man & Mack Wilds] Meth Man Cory Gunz go bang Streetlife gotta knife, homie run your chain Mack, riding around the city and we do our thing From a city that is known to do crazy things You already I’m heavy y’all stay in your lane We ready Stat fete still playing the game Mack, ladies in the show singing every hook But they’re gonna get their panties took, so lets go [Verse 1: Method Man] Aye aye, y’all don’t get the picture before we focus Facts, look who back, crooked like scoliosis, the take over Take this line straight up your noses This for my smokers but this time I up the dosage This my closest, to perfection my magnum opus The magnum smoking. I’m safe Like when the magnum open What y’all promoting, sex, lies, and true religion Now how ironic them jeans ain’t got no true up in em No Wu up in em, no DNA won’t see the day You crash my set Lil Mama no VMA Meth is a threat zero drama, I’m such a vet No need for checking my cuts (Nooo) just cut the check Who want one, You’ll need Hanz and Cory’s Gunz Graffiti some, we spray cans where Cory from I dreamed I lost in a food fight and Nore won Kidding so it shall be written the story done [Chorus: Method Man & Mack Wilds] [Verse 2: Cory Gunz] Fuck you losers while they fake jacks I make maneuvers Like Method, Sticking up crews, bumping some Wu shit I’m all seasons goose down hoodie and snorkel Whatever, whatever you want I’ll off you I’m awful, unlawful, I ain’t the one to talk too Thats word to uncle Ghost, I’ll cook your waffle Riddle me down, I’m mentally that Freddy the villain is here you remember me back Felony killers or kitties. I chill and trapped in the belly No telling me how high and they feel I be strapped Waiting for murderers some type of burglar and chomping And murder burglar upon us some karmas when the curb with Turbulent, been a veteran what you still a virgin Dangerous grounds, we stain the clowns I’m burgeon goon platoon Some loon buffoons refurnishing, womb for tombs Kaboom, you doomed, no surgeon you know [Chorus: Method Man & Mack Wilds] [Verse 3: Streetlife] You could never break me down, I’m built for this Crown fitted for a king I’m victorious It's survival of the fit as we are warriors For the red, black and green vanglorious Godbody-Cypher-Divine, dangerous minds Spontaneously combine, it’s the sign of the times All things must come to an end, I’mma ball until then No fade away shots I’m going hard at the rim Might rupture my Achilles heel, chasing this hundred mill Brake pads gone just lost my third wheel On my last leg stay kicking like old cabbage and boiled eggs Known to hold a grudge won’t stop till they all dead Eyes bloodshot red bottle to the head damn forgot what I just said Eyes blood, fuck it just on to the next one I been around the world never forgot where I came from [Chorus: Method Man & Mack Wilds] ************************************************** Tim Westwood Freestyle[Verse 1: Method Man] [Instrumental: The Game - Red Nation ft. Lil' Wayne] Yeah, Yeah, Yeah, Yeah, Uh! (X2) Meth, Check the verse, no curses, Yo Listen Still living by the code Too many pretty women still living by the... Yo, Yo Haha yeah, yeah, here we go No curses, yo, check the joint! I'm just trynna get a mill When I started rhymin' wasn't trynna get a deal I was trynna get a feel Homicide housing, bodies lyin' in the hill Man ain't nothing worth me dying in the field Especially when I'm trynna pay the bills A lot of y'all relying on the steel And see the court denying your appeal If y'all don't know nothing, you better know it's real If it works like a workshop, better know the drill I'm past childish games Y'all just trynna take me outta my game And call my black women outta their name I'm serious, they're out of my brain Understand that my slang's Fast and furious, they're out of my lane Boy I'm hot, kids be calling me blaze In the industry I'm not, they be calling me slave I ain't trynna burn the spot, but I'm set in my ways I'm just a product of the block, and the city I'm raised, Aha I'm still living by the code Too many pretty women still living by the strode Daddy pimping 'em for doe Early in the morning cops kicking in the do' Man I think somebody snitching on the low I caught my father sniffing on that snow That's when he try to tell me things are different than befo' Kids don't listen any mo', that's for sho' We used to ask permission from our folks Ain't no food up in the kitchen cause we broke And I ain't trynna miss another meal Cause love will get you killed And if it don't, your baby mother will But y'all ain't recognizing that it's real Until that undercover pull a shield And now it's kinda late to cut a deal So I ain't gotta tell you how I feel Why I'm trynna keep my pockets stuffed with hundred dollar bills I should'a went to school and got a skill But it wasn't in my future so I steal That's why I got this Ruger in your grill ************************************************** Let’s Ride[Intro: Ginuwine (Method Man)] Oohh, uh-oh, it's time, Meth Man, G-Wine, aiy-aiy-aiy-aiy Aiyo, Meth this shit sick boy, haha, (it's beautiful) yeah What's up (aww man, it's getting scary for y'all niggas now) what's good [Method Man] There go the apple of my eye, my black butterfly Don't try to pass me by, like you do them other guys You do with brother's lies, about they baby mothers & they wives And how you need they ass to survive I ain't a bit suprised, and I ain't try'nna give you bad vibes You probably had a bumpy last ride witch ex Was he stalking, calling making threats where you rest Until you got that order of protect Girl, I'm far from a threat, boo, now hold for a sec Relax with the Meth, take a load off your breast If you had a choice, baby, who would you choose Them dudes who look like they got sugar in they shoes Girl, that's how you lose Before you play the game, know the rules Cuz still ain't nothing changed but the jewels You still paying dues, when we should be laying on the cruise Some icecubes, playing with ya boobs, knawmean [Hook: Ginuwine] Let's ride, we get it everyday, it's doesn't fail And I always wanna know how you feel Cuz you're everything, I'm always there for you Yes, I'll be there, so let's ride Let's ride, don't trip, got your back, I'm your man I keep it G, like they do it in the hood, and You give me everything, and always be right there And if you real, then let's ride [Method Man] Hey, pretty ma, you look sweat, I mean You the type of treat, I've been dying to eat I see them other dudes try'nna speak, flossin' them jeeps They wanna whistle & beep when you crossin' the street Have mercy, to these big hands and big feet Use me once and use me again like fish grease Body perfect, primadonna, oh my god, mommy, work it Make a nigga wanna get a job I love chicks to hate staring, hate man sharing Hate it when a bum bitch is wearing what she wearing Huge attitude like the size of her badunk Double XL, she the "Eye Candy of the Month" Johnny, but ladies call me Big John Studd Is it my big club or my big long hugs Go figure, if you got an itch, I'm ya nigga To scratch it, and bring the hook back while I'm at it, now pass it [Hook] [Hook: Ginuwine] Let's ride, I start up on your right Peace and then we'll fight I'm starting to fall for love Yes, I will, yes, I will Let's ride, don't need to think twice I, want you at your time Let's ride, let's roll, all night, oh lord Full night, oooh tell me something [Hook] [Outro: Method Man] Yeah, this is Ginuwine, uh Method Man, yeah, I like that ************************************************** The Prequel(Method Man) I'm out... Once again, it's the super, pied piper Light your lighters for the future And I ain't talking about Mekhi Phifer Roll it if you got it people At last the Prequel And the eye ball Floral is back You'll find no equals Bang it in your loudest system Now who gunna diss him Usually it be the brokest niggas But this gunna fix em Let me get my tool belt For rappers that can use help Now that Meth is back, you can tell me how my shoes felt Just like Shaq in them size 22's Except my games not a game And I don't play by any rules man Its time to build without a hardhat and goggles Even with a map I'm still a hard act to follow I thought you knew we do this everyday ok and I Think marijuana is just nature's way of saying "hi" Only hydro buds, I get it crunk It's alright, if that bitch don't smoke then get her drunk Now I pop a lot of shit, cause I can back it up (what) I got that fire, bitch, its hard to pass it up (what) While you'll was partying I been in the lab You want that dope, give me an hour Plus a pen and a pad (Streetlife) Aiiyo Meth what they look like (look like) 3rd LP nigga better be tight (be tight) Don't forget where you come from, the hood life (hood life) Let them know from the door we ain't the shook type (shook type) (Method Man) I got that shit that keep your head bobbin Cause your neck know Meth yo, I'm trying to get that more dollars then crep flow for certain Before I put the pain, I put the work in And each person I catch slipping gunna need nursing Got these wanna-be gangstas, sleeping with they lights on Shook up by the python, everybody got they eyes on Not only is the streets watching, the streets is talking And word has it that these rappers don't come around that often Take it from the most slept on, you're wearing open-toe sandals And I'm looking for some new toes to step on And one to build a rep on, you all got me fucked up My crew stick bitches like you, for acting stuck up Methods like that yall, when I return you know the good herb is back y'all Ladies and germs Without further adieu Let's keep it wu, and fuck keeping it real y'all Just keep it juiced ************************************************** I’ll Be There For You / You’re All I Need to Get By (Soul Inside Edit)[Intro: Method Man, Mary J. Blige, Biggie Sample] Cheeba chebba, y'all You're all (Cry together) Cheeba cheeba, y'all I need (Lie together) Ya don't stop To get by (Cry together) Yeah yeah Ahh (You look so good, huh, I'll treat you right) Cootie in the chair You're all (Cry together) Cheeba cheeba, y'all I need (Lie together) Ya don't stop To get by (Cry together) Yeah yeah Ahh (You look so good, huh, I'll treat you right) Cootie in the, check it [Verse 1: Method Man] Shorty, I'm there for you anytime you need me For real, girl, it's me in your world, believe me Nuttin' make a man feel better than a woman Queen with a crown that be down for whatever There are few things that's forever, my lady We can make war or make babies Back when I was nothin' You made a brother feel like he was somethin' That's why I'm with you to this day, boo, no frontin' Even when the skies were gray You would rub me on my back and say, "Baby, it'll be okay" Now that's real to a brother like me, baby Never ever give my cootie away, and keep it tight, a'ight And I'ma walk these dogs so we can live In a phat-ass crib with thousands of kids Word life, you don't need a ring to be my wife Just be there for me and I'ma make sure we Be livin' in the effin lap of luxury I'm realizing that you didn't have to funk wit' me But you did, now I'm going all out, kid And I got mad love to give [Chorus: Method Man, Mary J. Blige, Biggie Sample] You're all (Cry together) Cheeba cheeba, y'all I need (Lie together) Ya don't stop To get by (Cry together) Yeah yeah Ahh, all I need (You look so good, huh, I'll treat you right) You're all (Cry together) Cheeba cheeba, y'all I need (Lie together) Ya don't stop To get by (Cry together) Yeah yeah Ahh (You look so good, huh, I'll treat you right) Tical [Bridge: Mary J. Blige] Like sweet morning dew I took one look at you And it was plain to see You were my destiny With you I'll spend my time I'll dedicate my life I'll sacrifice for you Dedicate my life for you [Verse 2: Method Man & Mary J. Blige] I got a love jones for your body and your skin tone Five minutes alone I'm already on the bone Plus I love the fact you got a mind of your own No need to shop around you got the good stuff at home Even if I'm locked up North you in the world Rockin' three-fourths of cloth, never showin' your stuff off, boo It be true, me for you, that's how it is I'll be your Noah, you be my Wiz I'm your Mister, you my Mrs. with hugs and kisses Valentine cards and birthday wishes? Please Be on another level of planning, of understanding The bond between man and woman, and child The highest elevation, 'cause we above All that romance crap, just show your love (You're all...) Suck up on these [Chorus: Method Man, Mary J. Blige, Biggie Sample] You're all (Cry together) Cheeba cheeba, y'all I need (Lie together) Ya don't stop To get by (Cry together) Yeah yeah Ahh (You look so good, huh, I'll treat you right) Cootie in the, tical You're all (Cry together) Cheeba cheeba, y'all I need (Lie together) Ya don't stop, ya don't stop To get by (Cry together) Yeah yeah Ahh (You look so good, huh, I'll treat you right) Cootie in the chair, tical You're all (Cry together) Cheeba cheeba, y'all I need (Lie together) Ya don't stop, ya don't stop To get by (Cry together) Yeah yeah Ahh (You look so good, huh, I'll treat you right) Cootie in the chair, tical You're all (Cry together) Mary J., y'all I need (Lie together) And Methical To get by (Cry together) (Like sweet morning dew) Yeah yeah Ahh (I took one look at you) (You look so good, huh, I'll treat you right) Cootie in the chair, tical You're all (Cry together) (And it was plain to see) Cheeba cheeba, y'all I need (Lie together) (You were my destiny) Cheeba cheeba, y'all To get by (Cry together) Cheeba cheeba, y'all Ahh (You look so good, huh, I'll treat you right) You're all (Cry together) Yeah I need (Lie together) Cheeba cheeba, y'all To get by (Cry together) Ahh (You look so good, huh, I'll treat you right) What's that shit that they be smokin'? You're all (Cry together) I need (Lie together) To get by (Cry together) Ahh (You look so good, huh, I'll treat you right) You're all (Cry together) I need (Lie together) To get by (Cry together) Johnny Blaze Ahh (You look so good, huh, I'll treat you right) You're all (Cry together) I need (Lie together) To get by (Cry together) Ahh (You look so good, huh, I'll treat you right) Man, woman, and child ************************************************** Method Man Freestyle (Staten Island)[Verse 1: Method Man] My repertoire is militant The last days, what the blood is we dealing with? The Johnny Blaze, grab yo' pistol Teflon, mega-bombs, and heat-seeking missiles Time to go to war, shit's official The mic stalker, only if you can understand it The sky walker, that be leaping over planets Pain! Got that ghetto blood in my vein Spread it through my kin, confess my sins, and blame Society for unawareness, fuck the president He don’t represent the ghetto resident Recognize fool within the black coal there’s a jewel The revolution been in effect, pull up your shoe Utilize your third eye it be in my eye Now I choose who gotta die - him, every time Ticallion stallion now hold on Like black diamonds, stud medallions, and so on ************************************************** M.E.F.[Intro] Yeah, pull your shoes up Why don't ya'll niggas sit your ass down somewhere Meth, yeah, yeah *burp* I said it, Staten Island back up in this bitch in a major way Yeah [Chorus] Who next on deck? Yo, mark, ready, set You get one guess, Meth, pass that dutchie pon de left Take a deep breath, Meth, take that genie to the chest It relieves stress, please believe it Who your M-E-F'ing Man, go 'head, ask your man And them broads with them big drawers, they know who I am Call me Meth, like my niggas in Park Hill Projects Just Meth, say it with the F, never disrespect [Verse 1] Give me dap, or give me depth, Clan in effect While you shaking my right hand, I stab you with the left What the fuck ya'll expect, I'm beyond bomb threat Explode when I'm talking, I blow shit out proportion Who's next, now, to be made an example Timb boots stomping on them open toe sandals Every boots scuffed, another win for us Life's just fucked up, momma just didn't hug me enough Let's you and I discuss over this bag of dust My plans to make bags, up in God we trust ya'll I ain't gotta, lift a, finger to touch ya'll And I ain't got a middle finger you to fuck ya'll Shit, as far as I'm concerned, ya'll germs To the illest MC to ever get his turn Street, you know the Life, money feed only on these dice Don't wanna have to make my point twice [Chorus] Who next on deck? Yo, mark, ready, set You get one guess, Meth, pass that dutchie pon de left Take a deep breath, Meth, take that genie to the chest It relieves stress, please believe it Who your M-E-F'ing Man, go 'head, ask your man And them broads with them big drawers, they know who I am Call me Meth, like my niggas in Park Hill Projects Just Meth, say it with the F, never disrespect [Verse 2] Who cashing checks every first and fifteen? Who earnt they respect? Blunt brother from another mother Southpaw, might Golden Glove ya Now Enter the Wu-Tang Forever, The W Ya'll been eating off our plate for years And didn't know I spit in the pot I'm on the toilet with some new shit, fitting to drop, lend me your years For a minute, get in it, "see murder", there ain't "no limit" to the killing Emotional wreck, cuz I ain't feeling what ya'll feeling Ya'll rappers is sex with penicillen, who the villain? Burning MC's, sick as the V's when he illing A hundred degrees in dungarees, still chilling You know me by now, look out Tical In your barn, at your Phat Farm, milking your cow Street, you know the life, money feed only on these dice Don't wanna have to make my point twice [Chorus] Who next on deck? Yo, mark, ready, set You get one guess, Meth, pass that dutchie pon de left Take a deep breath, Meth, take that genie to the chest It relieves stress, please believe it Who your M-E-F'ing Man, go 'head, ask your man And them broads with them big drawers, they know who I am Call me Meth, like my niggas in Park Hill Projects Just Meth, say it with the F, never disrespect ************************************************** Retro GodfatherCome on (come on) Take it back (take it back) 70's style (style) I'll do, anything All y'all old school Studio 54ers That's, my, word! There's nothing in the world that I won't do I'll give my world to you, if you want me to I'll do, anything That's, my, word! O.D.'n on this one fleein, all eyes seein Dominant supreme being, face the mental Deep concentration break the point on a pencil Keep my cliches out your dental, capiche? Shit that I been through is cause for parental Discretions no question my Westside Connections L.A. Confidential, world don't stop 'less it's mental, Staten residentials, you wit it? Wu-Tang, Forever and a day, 'til I'm old and decayed I'm commited; look ma, we did it Top of the the world, tell it to my firstborn And my baby girl, did it my way, take the low road On the highway, out the sunroof, yellin "Thank God it's Friday!" Show a nigga love If he got my sound pull the plug, he's not underground Call him mud, when I flood the airwaves Household and stairways (rainy days) Waiting for these paydays, think not of the ends If I got twenty, my brother get ten Now let the madness begin motherfuckers! There's nothing in the world that I won't do I'll give my world to you, if you want me to I'll do, anything.. anything.. anything.. anything.. There's nothing in the world that I won't do I'll give my world to you, if you want me to I'll do, anything.. Yo, yo, yo! We got love for those with love for us Baby you can look but don't touch, I'm fried off the dust And plus, the only thing I trust is a fund Ain't no fun, just paranoid niggas totin guns In apparel, keep us camouflaged in the shadows That's where I bring this tale that you never get to tattle Obliterate the tri-state, and the crime rate Tell them swine niggas fly straight, you can call it fate And if it ain't mine, call it fake, bottom line End the case, spoonfeed the track just a taste Of the side dish, soup of the day, I come Wright like N'Bushe For them Dead Presidents Fuck what you say, and he say, and she say, and they say Vacate the premises, caught up in the melee Sentence this song, to twenty-five years hard labor In the system, where it takes the form of my wisdom Respect mine, take my time and protect nine Next on the frontline, Mr. Meth No more no less, what you see is what your ass get Set it off I suggest There's nothing in the world that I won't do I'll give my world to you, if you want me to I'll do, anything.. anything.. anything.. anything.. There's nothing in the world that I won't do I'll give my world to you, if you want me to I'll do, anything.. anything.. anything.. Not a problem that I can't fix Cause I can do it, in the mix Not a problem that I can't fix Cause I can do it, in the mix ************************************************** Everything[Intro: Method Man] Yeah... yeah... Allah Math... Yeah... yo... yo... [Method Man] Y'all ain't never stopping the kid, why y'all knocking the king? Would ya like a shot of liquor or like a shot to the rib? Plus you stay on top of they grills, stay on top of they biz Thinking niggas plotting on hairs, think they not when they is This is Staten Island gully, you dig? It's getting ugly And I ain't found a court that can judge me, the block love me Like nines to the side of the skully, popping they top I'd rather pop bubbly, one for B.I.G. and one for Pac Nigga, trust me, I'm hot as they get, like Al Green Getting hit by a pot of them grits, yo, nahmeen? Y'all don't really want no parts of this, soon as a nigga Start shining, niggas start some shit, my guard lit Like a boss, head nigga in charge, get in these drawers Fitted, nine inches bigger than yours This Meth dude got that food, and he serving it raw Told you before, I bring the pain, and now I'm hurting them, pa Hurting them, pa... [Hook 2X: Streetlife] Up from the 36, back on that bullshit Okay, I'm reloaded, strapped with a full clip Staten Island's the borough, Park Hill, we still click Wu-Tang, Wu-Tang, that's the Clan, we run shit [Inspectah Deck] Aiyo, you fucking with some capital G's, Allah Math Streetlife, Meth Man, plus the Masta and me Soldier I, make it happen, indeed, my sick gift Had the highest paid ho, get it cracking for free Worldwide, still trapped in the P's, Pioneers Like the twenty inch woofers, that's in back of the V Leave ya brain, like you spazzing on E It don't matter who you happen to be, nothing swagger like he Keep a dirty cop close, never talk with no feds Tear the roof off the mother, right along with ya head And I ain't talk unless she talking bout bread You would swear that I'm rocking New Balance, how I'm walking the ledge Son, I'm just a little off of the edge, as I stalk The mean streets, for paused types, callers are read Killa Hill where the warriors bred, I'm a Resident Patient, it's gonna take more than the meds [Hook 2X] [Streetlife] Special invited guest, I came to put the rumors to rest Rip the rest of the slugs through your chest Put the chest to the back of your vest Trap your packet, take the money and jet Niggas posted, but you posing no threat Punk, you pussy like the opposite sex Front, see how many shots you will get I'm not asking, I'm demanding respect I'm just a man to respect Watch your step, son, your funeral's next Streetlife is the man in the flesh, I got one hand on your neck The other hand is attached to the tech Your next move could mean life or death Make move, take baby steps Hold that thought, nigga, save your breath We hold courts, in the streets, we rep For Cash Rule, and we came to collect, cock sucker [Hook] ************************************************** Never Hold Back[Intro: Method Man (Dooney Boy) {Pinky Phat Phat}] Cool, okay, I'mma let ya'll take it on your own right now Why don't you do me a favor (What?) {What?} Tell me a joke (why did the chicken cross the road?) {To get five dollars from her baby daddy!} Eheheheh (hahahahahah) you got that? {eheheh} We gon' roll with that right there, aight then -- beat drops -- Gilla House, muthafucka, Gilla House Gilla House, muthafucka, Gilla House! Yeah, another Def Jam, where we don't make stars We just sign 'em, uh-huh, that's what's up, Big Sox [Method Man] I'm on the grind... (can't wait to shine) Fuck that, I pull your blinds, catch you f'ing with mines, no go 'head I got no time (hate to be wastin' time), muthafucka know the name And know that I ain't feelin' ya'll lames, like novacaine Ain't no way you can (stop the train) or the conductor Of the track, muthafucka, that's E3, my love for the game (it's just not the same) Unless it's Gilla House, and Wu-Tang Clan, in the house, cop them thangs Live together and (pop the chain), know your lane Fuck cocaine, stick up, bout to blow your brains off the map The (Flame is back), it's the amazing J. Blazin' grapes of wrath turn to raisin What part of the (game is that), we not playin' Ya'll try'nna raise the price at the door, we not payin' So watcha (watcha want?) You kids are slum And son got knuckles in his Air Force One's, come on [Hook: Saukrates (E3)] Niggas never seen it this raw (but nothing's gonna hold me back) Keep the heat up by the big dog (but I don't wanna hold you back) Nigga gotta get this dough (I just wanna live my life) Nigga gotta get this dough (Live your life) [Method Man] Yo, yo, on the air (thought you dead?) But I returned To give you what you waited four years, now to burn Hold your head (and know your ledge) your life flash by Hey, kid, walk straight, master your high Method Man (Method Man, Man) Whoa, like Black Rob, go Catch me in the West Wing, I might "Rob Lowe" Yes, I can (yes, I can can) tap your jaw And tell whatever chick that I'm with, slap your broad This is it, (I'm stuck with ya'll) and ya'll stuck with me In the lap of luxury, where the hell's cut for free And the kid (can't fuck with ya'll) Til I got a tree On some new property, at my new pot to pee, have mercy (Mercy me) Things ain't what they used to Soon as you get your shot on the top, somebody shoot ya These rhymes (ain't nursery) Life's a bitch Then you go to court, and she take half your shit, come on! [Hook 2X] [Outro: Method Man] My, life, your life, yeah, Mr. Meth, Big John Studd, yo Ya'll know how I do it, screw it, all day, everyday You know what I'm sayin'? Stinkin', drinkin' and fightin' crime Staten Island, stand up, we in the muthafuckin' house Come on! ************************************************** Worldwide(Chorus 2x - Chedda Bang) Show some respect when we come through Worldwide, let me see your w’s (Chorus 2x - Hanz On) Throw ‘em up, turn em over, what it do, what it do Meth Man Murda gonna perish you (Verse 1 - Method Man) These rappers rap backwards, I don’t rap with them rap dudes 2Pac backwards, pull that ratchet & cap too Back to 93 when I still was holding those capsules I also had a 38, ya’ll don’t give me no hassle Keith Kool, G Rap moves, it's only natural When on the road to riches, I hit the horn when I pass you beep beep Pardon my sneeze. Haters get ‘atchew’ Ballers trying to move with the white, now would Shaq do Go harder in the paint. Slap you like ya barber Or the 6th man, thinking he a starter when he ain’t I’m a sick man, but smarter than you think And it’s a thin line between the driver & the robber in the bank See I’m cut like a barber with a shank, cool Women going swimming with their drinks, pools Now who hasn’t heard her that Meth Man & Uncle Murda It’s like your cousin trying to kill you with your uncles burner (Chorus 2x - Chedda Bang) Show some respect when we come through Worldwide, let me see your w’s (Chorus 2x - Hanz On) Throw ‘em up, turn em over, what it do, what it do Meth Man Murda gonna perish you (Verse 2 - Uncle Murda) Yeah I’m Uncle Murda from the jects Yeah I’m disrespectful, but get a lot respect When I’m waving the tech, you better protect your neck Got em looking like Inspectah, the way their hitting the deck I with the METHOD man, its feelin like the 90’s back when my tech use to jam 18 putting pressure on these chumps, sending niggas that’s in their 30’s to go & get my dutch Cash rules everything around me. I’m cookin a brick Feelin like the chef, wearing my Cuban linx. I was ODB, creepin with dirty ho’s Bumpin 36 chambers with 36 ho’s Fuck the world, don’t ask me for shit This that Brooklyn, Shaolin Big & Meth shit This that shit you bump, before you catch a body NY back on their shit. I hope these niggas copy (Chorus 2x - Chedda Bang) Show some respect when we come through Worldwide, let me see your w’s (Chorus 2x - Hanz On) Throw ‘em up, turn em over, what it do, what it do Meth Man Murda gonna perish you ************************************************** The WhatI used to get feels on a bitch Now I throw shields on the dick To stop me from that HIV shit And niggas know they soft like a Twinkie filling Playing the villain, prepare for this rap killing Biggie Smalls is the illest Your style is played out, like Arnold wondered "What you talking 'bout Willis?" The thrill is gone, the black Frank White Is here to excite and throw dick to dykes Bitches, I like 'em brainless Guns, I like 'em stainless steel I want the fuckin' Fortune like the Wheel I squeeze gats 'til my clips is empty Don't tempt me (T H O D Man) You don't want to fuck with Biggie Here I am, I'll be damned if this ain't some shit Come to spread the butter lyrics over hominy grit It's the low killer death trap, yes, I'm a jet black ninja Coming where you rest at, surrender Step inside the ring, you'se the number one contender Looking cold booty like your pussy in December Nigga stop bitching, button up ya lip and From Method, all you getting is a can of ass whipping Hey, I'll be kicking you son, you doing all the yapping Acting as if it can't happen You front and got me mad enough to touch something Yo, I'm from Shaolin Island and ain't afraid to bust something So what cha want, nigga? Ya punk, nigga I got a six-shooter and a horse named Trigger It's real, ninety-four, rugged raw Kicking down your goddamn door (And it goes a lil' something like this) Fuck the world, don't ask me for shit And everything you get, ya gotta work hard for it Honies, shake your hips, ya don't stop And niggas pack the clips, keep on Verse two, coming with that Olde E brew Meth Tical, putting niggas back in I.C.U I'm lifted, troop, you can bring yours wack ass crew I got connections, I'll get that ass stuck like glue No question, I be coming down and shit Yo, I gets rugged as a motherfucking carpet get And niggas love it, not in the physical form but in the mental I spark and they cells get warm, I'm not a gentle, man I'm a Method Man Baby, accept it, utmost respect it (Assume the position) Stop, look and listen I spit on your grave, then I grab my Charles Dickens Welcome to my center Honies feel it deep in they placenta Cold as the pole in the winter Far from the inventor but I got this rap shit sewed And when my Mac unloads I'm guaranteed another video Ready to die, why I act that way? Pop duke left Mom duke The fagot took the back way So instead of making hoes suck my dick up I used to do stick-up Cause hoes is irritating like the hiccups Excuse me, flows just grow through me Like trees to branches, cliffs to avalanches It's the Praying Mantis Deep like the mind of Farrakhan A motherfucking rap phenomenon Plus (I got more Glocks and techs than you) I make it hot (Nigga, won't even stand next to you) Nigga, touch me, you better bust me Three times in the head Or motherfucker's dead, ya thought so Fuck the world, don't ask me for shit And everything you get, ya gotta work hard for it Honies, shake your hips, ya don't stop And niggas pack the clips, keep on Fuck the world, don't ask me for shit And everything you get, ya gotta work hard for it Honies, shake your hips, ya don't stop And niggas pack the clips, keep on ************************************************** Drunk Tunes[Intro] Hands up (Hands up) Hands up (Hands up) Hands up (Hands up) Hands up (Hands up) Hands up (Hands up) Hands up (Hands up) Hands up (Hands up) (Go, go) Oh, no-no-no I can't feel my face I need some more energy Give me a shot then I’m goin' out in space (Go, go) Don't need no more, my head’s spinnin' (Go, go) [Chorus] I lost my friends, where are we? (Where are they?) I lost my phone, what happened? (What's goin' on?) I'm drunk, I need assistance (No-no-no) Don't touch me, I'm good (Get off me, I'm good) I lost my car, what happened? These drunk tunes got me trippin’ Take me home, damn, I’m buggin' These drunk tunes got me so high [Pre-Verse: N.O.R.E.] Hey, yo, I’m drunk walkin' outta the club Stopped to show love The people want to flick it for Instagram pictures I'm drunk so my eyes all red in the pictures I'm outta place, bozo face in the pictures [Verse 1: N.O.R.E.] Spread love, crew love, shit, it’s all the same to me I show love, I get love, yup, and that remains to be I'm walkin' to the whip and I'm stumblin' I'm Marshawn Lynch with my limp, I ain't fumblin' I smoked a Marlboro Red, see, I was outta line And late to see my lady, I was outta time I had to be meet her at the Fifi's fish spot A Rafael gave me L and got my wrist hot I used to drink Smirnoff with dope fiends I would babysit my cup, coasting New wave, Soundcloud, always around loud Split a 'rillo, armadillo Shot up the armored hero [Chorus] I lost my friends, where are we? (Where are they?) I lost my phone, what happened? (What's goin' on?) I'm drunk, I need assistance (No-no-no) Don't touch me, I'm good (Get off me, I'm good) I lost my car, what happened? These drunk tunes got me trippin' Take me home, damn, I'm buggin' These drunk tunes got me so high [Pre-Verse: Method Man] Hey, yo, I'm drunk, throwin' up in the club In addition, I ain't know what they was slippin' in them drinks I was sippin' I didn't think, prob'ly somethin' pink, I was slippin' Last time I woke up in the clink, I was trippin' [Verse 2: Method Man] One drink, two drink, three, it ain't a thing to me I shows up then leave tore up, ain't nothin' changery One too many Kamikazes, I'm a zombie Stumblin' out the party, I was duckin' paparazzi I shoulda skipped last call and hit the herb spot Or hit the studio, maybe, because this verse hot My first shot, my bird hot, by the third shot Curved the THOT, the thirst real but her purse not My attitude is out the world, I'm a star Plus a rhymin' alcoholic, ask the girl behind the bar The opps can't call it, they ain't havin' a prob' Honey workin' on the tan, they nabbin' the jar [Chorus] I lost my friends, where are we? (Where are they?) I lost my phone, what happened? (What's goin' on?) I'm drunk, I need assistance (No-no-no) Don't touch me, I'm good (Get off me, I'm good) I lost my car, what happened? These drunk tunes got me trippin' Take me home, damn, I'm buggin' These drunk tunes got me so high [Verse 3: Joe Young] Yo, don't talk to me when I'm drunk is what I'm sayin' You okayin'? Mad disrespectful, is we fuckin' or you stayin'? Nights like this, I never know what I might pull The bud got me high, I'ma Vodka and Red Bull I'm on a level that could be dangerous to most Champagne to the face, need no glass, fuck a toast Keep them shots comin', keep the liquor runnin' After hours spot jumpin', we might be into somethin' We havin' a good time, I ain't worried 'bout nothin' The Lab in this bitch, eight guns, we ain't bluffin' Don't be mad, she belong to the world stock, cuffin' She in the middle of the dance floor like her muffin needs stuffin' I got the oven, I'ma serve the plate Tried the number with no debate Poppin' mad bands for a nigga, shake that cake Make that shit quake and watch it drop for a mother fucker She ride the wave like it's some props in this mother fucker [Chorus] I lost my friends, where are we? (Where are they?) I lost my phone, what happened? (What's goin' on?) I'm drunk, I need assistance (No-no-no) Don't touch me, I'm good (Get off me, I'm good) I lost my car, what happened? These drunk tunes got me trippin' Take me home, damn, I'm buggin' These drunk tunes got me so high [Outro: N.O.R.E.] Go (Go, go) Go (Go, go) Put 'em up, put 'em up, put 'em up Go (Go, go) Go (Go, go) Go (Go, go) Put your hands up Go (Go, go) Go (Go, go) Put 'em up, put 'em up, put 'em up Go (Go, go) Go (Go, go) Put your hands up Go (Go, go) Go (Go, go) ************************************************** Kill Different[Verse 1: Method Man] Welcome back to the Meth Lab, hah Now I'm back in that meth bag Rappers, I'm revokin' they guest pass I'm sayin' they just trash Stripes and polka dots, we just clash I'm here to issue challenge, y'all red flag No Malice, I'm just bad The Crips'll Pusha T and your head back Go slap you in your head like, "go 'head, rap" But movin' ahead 'fact, a head-shot to see where they head at That means I'm tryna get it like head scratch Get it? No head scratch Ratchets and a P-L-O head wrap These snitches, I don't know if them head tats or stitches You preach, I'ma little vicious while I'm freakin' your little misses No biscuits but I'm all in that Bisquick Hoes jump in your business Groupie dudes jump in your pictures They mother's like, "Please, Jesus, come fix it" Lord, them built different Put hands on 'em, I'ma feel different Take the S out of skill like kill different [Chorus: Hanz On] Yeah, kill, kill-kill, kill-kill We gon' get this money 'cause the paper kill different Fuckin' game, nigga-game, nigga Kill, kill-kill, kill-kill Let him kill himself 'cause the car peels different Fuckin' game, nigga-game, nigga Kill, kill-kill, kill-kill Yeah, we gon' reach the top 'cause success appeals different Fuckin' game, nigga-game, nigga Kill, kill-kill, kill-kill We gon' get this money 'cause the paper kill different [Verse 2: Raekwon] Hear me out, my zeal is ill, hunnid percent Fly, cut cloth, it's like the baddest bitch in Brazil We know what it feels That's why we be composed and drill And keep our whizzes hittin' the hills Take this mill, gladly I feel a mode of hate, I'll hold you with steel Everything else we gotta build Blow a bill, facts be real Stay away from the snakes, they eels They live in swamps near the fields I be on chill, can't call it no other way Watchin' Netflix and Breakin' Bad bills Pumpin' krills back in 1980 fills FILA suits and grills Don't get caught, caught-up on the corners I'm only here to warn ya, let's just be real Feel a hustler's reign with the ambition to make a hunnid bills Stackin' money, talk to bosses Stay hun' mills', remember Chef one Blow hills, yeah [Chorus: Hanz On] Yeah, kill, kill-kill, kill-kill We gon' get this money 'cause the paper kill different Fuckin' game, nigga-game, nigga Kill, kill-kill, kill-kill Let him kill himself 'cause the car peels different Fuckin' game, nigga-game, nigga Kill, kill-kill, kill-kill Yeah, we gon' reach the top 'cause success appeals different Fuckin' game, nigga-game, nigga Kill, kill-kill, kill-kill We gon' get this money 'cause the paper kill different [Outro: Raekwon] Louis Rich, nigga It's not no mother fuckin' game, nigga We very strong over here Paid our mother fuckin' dues, nigga That's right Meth Lab, nigga Hanz Stallion Ticallion Stallion, I call him that, nigga That's a horse, that's a race horse right there, boy You know what we do, nigga Been on our Ferrari shit, nigga Been on our fuckin' motor vehicle fly shit, nigga ************************************************** The Lab[Intro: Spank] Yeah, oh Yeah Yeah Yeah [Chorus: Spank] We comin' from The Meth Lab, The Meth Lab Bitch, we comin' from The Meth Lab, The Meth Lab We comin' from The Meth Lab, The Meth Lab Bitch, we comin' from The Meth Lab, The Meth Lab Part two [Verse 1: Spank] We got the city on smash, the game is really on smash I set up shop with the shot, and got to gettin' this cash I put the work in the pot and let it go Anybody and they momma who coppin' already know Ike love, I'm in the city, I'm dolo From New Yitty, it's YOLO Keep it under the Polo, them people takin' them photos Me and Methical hit the work, extra got the Lexus out Really runnin' wild, hit the exits with them weapons out Rain on them bitches I take the train with some bitches who keep it tucked in they pussy A fair exchange when we hit'cha Put the frame in the picture No picture frames in my circle Niggas goin' in early like they done gave 'em a curfew Said, run for the money, run for it You either gonna slump for the money, slump for it I got a little pretty bitch about to come for it And if you try to come for her, she gon' dump for it, nigga [Chorus: Spank] We comin' from The Meth Lab, The Meth Lab Bitch, we comin' from The Meth Lab, The Meth Lab We comin' from The Meth Lab, The Meth Lab Bitch, we comin' from The Meth Lab, The Meth Lab Part two [Verse 2: Method Man] I got blunts in a pocket, a half a zip in my sock Got rappers eatin' my garbage like I ain't spit in the pot We put the lid to your top and let it blow Anybody from the Island that's poppin' already know Meth Lab and we back with them cookers I'm out the door with the cook-up The quiet life and I keep it private, don't like it, then pull-up It's like whatever now Tighter then them fits that they be wearin' now Methidcal, they tryna touch the kid? You some pedophiles Who is you kiddin'? See, I ain't losin', I'm winnin' I'm the coop with a pigeon, don't care 'bout who we offendin' A lot of you is pretendin', I mean the proof in the puddin' I'm at the stove in your kitchen, see, that's the proof that I'm cookin' Me and Spank keep it pushin' and while the pushin' is good I'm tryna get me some cookies, the kind you put in a wood See, I ain't stressin' you rookies like I should I'm just sayin', ain't no place for no rookies in my hood And- [Chorus: Spank] We comin' from The Meth Lab, The Meth Lab Bitch, we comin' from The Meth Lab, The Meth Lab We comin' from The Meth Lab, The Meth Lab Bitch, we comin' from The Meth Lab, The Meth Lab Part two Uh ************************************************** Symphony[Verse 1: Method Man] I’m that OG, some of y’all know me I used to cop greens from 4G, nickels, dimes and oz’s I’m like Thor’s brother, so low key I might swing a hammer, provoke me Put a shooter where Ko - be Tell ya like somebody done told me Never trust nobody who owe me and any wife is a trophy If Meth the mortician, you know that shovel is on me To put em in the earth, I do my dirt all by my lonely [Verse 2: Kash Verrazano] I’m all about the Benjis But that bring jealousy and envy Don’t trust niggas, they smile it seems friendly I’ll be damned if I pass up It’s for bricks when I mask up and run down On em to get my cash up Cash Verrazano J Reeds is getting lined up Sam Rothstein when I lean slump with the 9 tucked Come and take a trip to the dark side Fuck around with pigs, they gonna find your body hog-tied No guys saying they neutral but playing both sides Homicide housing young cartel with dope tides Your boy ain’t playing a little Have em engraving a tombstone with your name in the middle [Verse 3: Carlton Fisk] Fugitive on the run, felony warrants The police, kicking doors, question all the informants Carlo, feeling like the war’s on and I’m running through Hell Blunt in my mouth, gasoline draws on Vocals, got a laser beam, no other option for you Die or embrace the team, offers that you can’t refuse Handz On music, motherfucker, yeah say it with me Now get your smart phone hater and take a picture with me Consigliere, no phones, Jimmy whisper to me Ride ’til I win the war, Cops put a clip in me Carlo’s, got killers on the payroll, Killers on the lay-low Killers that will kill when I say so [Verse 4: Hanz On] There’s a war going on outside, nobodies safe from I gotta get this money now, we gon’ take some A politicing with these clowns, bout to shake something I’m gonna hit em with the pounds, that’ll break something Y’all better run and get your boots time tight black Y’all fornicating with this money, get your life rap Straight music, motherfucker cause it’s like that I come and hit em in the dark, call it nightcap And I be fucking with the starks, he my ace boon Don’t let us catch you in these parts or we gon' bake rooms And yo them cats you running with, yo they some fake goons I’m bout to sweep em in the finals, gonna shake brooms The situations getting chunky, tension mad thick Like you could cut it with a knife, cloak and dag’ shit Hanz baby, PLO on some Arab shit My killahs coming with them cannons, bout to blast shit [Verse 5: Streetlife] Streetlife chip off the old block, the hard rock Apply pressure to your neck ’til your heart stops Got ‘em all lean like codeine, microphone fiend I’m an addict, I’m addicted to rap cream New day is dawning but I’m stuck in my old ways Gave you fair warning, I’m reloading, okay? I ain’t gotta say it’s on, pop up at your front door Early morning, guns drawn, like ding dong [Verse 6: Killa Sin] Cash, I get it up, my niggas, I can’t get enough Won’t stop rocking ’til I’m sitting up on Diddy bucks A semi tuckin, witty fucker, picture getting city stuck This city buck is sick of flipper, motherfuckin’ city bus Big whip, coasting, throat stroking, slow motion Slow groove, so smooth, old school, Billy Ocean Caribbean Queen, mean body, Dereon jeans Cherry bomb, the way she blow me, she like [?] dreams Enough with the petty con schemes, I need Enron cream Short minute before I end up with that Benz on lean ************************************************** Elements[Method Man] (There...there?) One more gain Yo, uh huh uh huh Staar Surround sounder, blunt smokin, remy downer Hip-hop sizzar slingin my raw in your flounder You get skidawed, undertakin' undergrounders This lyricist, lounge with low, that be lounger Aliens is out of townish, fuck applause Niggas clap now with forty pounders, and fourty-fours Is it all, fair in love with war Young 'uns with guns, acting like they taking yours, uh Live by the sword, they gonna die by the sword, uh My vocal cords break the laws that apply to nature Low and these niggas love to hate ya Request the henney straight no chaser Twin towerin' I skyscrape ya Now gimme yours [Star] Trifled disciple, arch rival reppin with weapons that homicidal Star leaves you marked from the start like tribal scars (Allah punk) I'm hazardous as a bomb and arms spinnin' like Christ Recitin' psalms in the streets of Babylon (Verbs I gather well) ??? data shells My squad camoflauge your wealth Like the bible with parabels With the navigator, spittin razor sharp, breath laser data That'll tickle you now, but slay you later [Method Man] On this one call me Lee Major Million dollar man, bionic or proffesor chronic Still not a player, I just fuck alot the panty raider Get shortys mad, they curse you wild on your sky pager Stankin' ass [Polite] Yo Mr. Big Mouth, better duck down or bite the bullet You niggas got guns but you scared to death to pull it Bet if I pull my gun I'm gon' squeeze I'm startin at your head, son, and stoppin' at your knees I hate your screwmugs, rumble counterfeit thugs Niggas want mine, bet they come and get it in blood Fat potential, gave birth to a corrupt mental Foul thoughts paralyzin temples, it's just that simple Chorus [All] You better come with your best gun Niggas be holdin', it's all war no fun Niggas be bowlin', you niggas under pressure now My squads down for whatever with whoever now Let's get it on Best to come with your best gun Niggas be rollin', it's all war no fun Niggas be holdin', you niggas under pressure now My squads down for whatever with whoever now Let's get it on [Star] Arm leg shots to hit the spot like a four fifth Glock We got this hip-hop shilock and all you clique got Was lip lock, heavy heat, steady street sweepin your peeps Hawks, machete chops puttin' cease to your petty fleets This raw rebel got more metal than pop And rock groups, when my Glock shoots the scores settled A ground attack, I'm bound to clap rounds of rap Clowns are found flat, face down around the map Simple minds, cripple smiles, my rhymes are four five The size oh two nines combine, can't even tickle mine [Method Man] I told you once, I told your ass a thousand times, chump Body in the trunk, stay in line punk Fuck wit me and mine [Polite] Yo You be the actual, sixteen bars, comin' after you Never go against my team, they might embarrass you Slit-slang terrorist talk, fully armed Put your hands up, I'mma put a hole in your paws Ruin your side show, eyes low, brains fried from hydro Two choices, bass off or either die slow We all scholars when it's time to clean a dirty dollar Attack the boards, it's like a rotweiler [Method Man] Niggas comin out they shoes like they Usher These motherfuckers on the run, and they socks from The bounty hunter, Iron Lungster, rain and thunder Here come the lightning now I'm strikin' back at niggas bitin' Pushin' buttons just to step away from self-destruction Inch and a half away from touchin' somethin' Suckin' away from bustin' Yall brothers laugh now and cry later I rap from Alpha to Omega, sixty four to Sega Whoopin' that ass, walk you dogs through the lookin' glass Been burnin' MC's since cookin' class Makin' it hot like the summer in the crackspot With blacktops, my nickle slot, triple bar, hit the jackpot On each block, I'm the remedy, send them back to me After detock, shorty got knuckles in the Reebok Plus we got a problem with the Benz (What's the problem with the Benz) She want the six-hundred, but she ain't got the ends Chorus [All] You better come with your best gun Niggas be holdin', it's all war no fun Niggas be bowlin', you niggas under pressure now My squads down for whatever with whoever now Let's get it on ************************************************** Crooked Letter I[Intro: Streetlife (Method Man)] Ooooh! We have returned Yeah, show you how to flow again (show you how to flow again) It's the rap rule again (hehehehe) Yo, yo.. [Streetlife] (Method Man) Street, Meth, we ride like A.C. and O.J. (y'all niggas crazy!) I runs up on you in broad days, I'm a Loose Link I carry's the Heaterz, always Small timers, get left for dead in the hallways It's that ill breed, move in warp speed, follow my lead (Me and my Co-D's, about to O.D.) let me procede I'm that O.G., you're not in my league (you know my steez) I put the smackdown, on you killer clown M.C.'s [Method Man] (Streetlife) I rock for all my niggas (I rock for all my niggas) That's why I hurt to be here, okay, let me see here Stat' Land, crooked letter is I, we back, man Harder than a dick on viagra gettin' a lap dance Hittin' like a back hand (I slap y'all kids) As if we in a game of spades, and y'all renig' John Blaze, not the clothing, cuz some of that is slum (Son, I'm already knowin') cut they jeans mad young [Hook 2X: Kon Artis] In the Crooked Letter-I, it's do or die Shit, every man fights to stay alive In the Crooked Letter-I, you should not try Meth Tical, Streetlife, Killa Bee, why.. [Method Man] (Streetlife) Stingy with my dough, even stingier with dojia' (Told y'all) You'll never go broke, long as I owe ya Maintain your composure, or party over For stank bitches, who get it, twisted like yoga Holla for a dollar, yea, and y'all ain't gotta go home (But y'all gotta get the fuck outta here) Who stay "Lo" like Jennifer, won't see me a lot But when you see Vivica, tell her she a "Fox" [Streetlife] (Method Man) We rollin', big truck, sittin' on chrome (twistin' a bone) Talkin' to a bird on the bat phone Zonin', out the area, roamin' The closest you could come to my style, maybe, is clonin' The omen (I'm warnin' you now!) Niggas is holdin' Run up, watch me put one up in your colon Tinseltown town, thugs in the club, like chicks posin' Lambchop niggas is sheep in wolf clothing [Hook 2X] [Streetlife] (Method Man) Beware, danger, shoot off your flares Warn all your dogs (tell 'em we here) The Stat' (we don't bust our guns in the air) Never that, y'all don't come out til the coast is clear (Who you suppose to fear) Street, I fears no one You all thumbs, I probably murder you with your gun When I start lettin' off (niggas is jettin' off) You straight chicken broth, we holes in your terrycloth [Method Man] Double O, 3, long time no see Who mind parts seas, and cause blind to see Some think this industry is just all rhyme and G Then he make it to the door, and he can't find the key Don't know what it be, to make y'all follow my lead Or make this pretty thing on her knees swallow my seed If rap wasn't rap no more, what would it be I don't know, I'd be zonin' sometime, must be the weed... that's that shit [Hook to fade] [Outro: Streetlife (Method Man)] Yeah, Homicide Housing, Loose Linx Carlton Fisk, D.C., rest in peace To the Million Dollar Kid, Y (S.I., N.Y., 10304) Sick eyes, Size 7 Big Nut, what up (Big up to Denaun, good lookin' on the track, nigga Matter fact, I'mma call Staten Island the tri-borough, now on Cuz we'll "tri" any fuckin' thing) Homicide Housing.. (Fuck y'all) ************************************************** Party CrasherIntro: club bouncer Aww shit... not these niggas again! Aiyyo listen! I'm only lettin five of you motherfuckers in here tonight If your man ain't on the guest list He get to the BACK of the fuckin line And you know another motherfuckin thing? I don't give a fuck if a bitch spill a drink In this motherfucker tonight I'm kickin ALL y'all the fuck outta here [Method Man] Uhh Muh'fuckers be up in the club scared to fuckin death Nigga if you scared why don't yo' ass just stay the fuck home Check it out uhh Me and mines at the door, ain't tryin to pay your fees Stop playin, you fuckin with me, I push my way in Bum rush there's plenty of us to tear the club up Guzzlin Bacardi and such, I split a Dutch Bouncer nigga lookin like he want war Now I ain't the one you got to front Pah Pattin me down like the law As I stumble in the party Topsey off the Limon Bacardi for sure Loungin near the bar section, rolled the L And kept steppin, concealed weapon, razor sharp Blue star hatchet, in the sleeve of my jacket Who that kid, on the dance floor lookin for matches? Burn somethin, one toke got me blasted Took another toke then I passed it, choke! Fantastic, herb ain't no joke Especially that indo smoke mixed with hashish Ladies on the dance floor, shakin they asses Got millon dollar broke niggas, that makin passes Honey with the eye glasses, body work is Boombastic Skin like blackberry molasses, mmmmm At last it's, time to step and make her mine Niggas headin toward the bathroom tuckin they shines Brothers got to keep it movin, playin with kids That won't hesitate to snatch a Cuban You know what this is... ("Yo Duke that's your diamonds right there God? Yo that shit'll go RIGHT where my people ain't right now.." "Yo don't touch my shit!") Now it's on in the lavatory, I heard a scream End of story couldn't find shorty, party scene's Now a fucked up chaotic thing, won't be long Before the sirens intervene, the terrotory Can't we all get along, without the ruckus Got big bouncin muh'fuckers, tryin to rush us I can take a hint, what? Can smell the stench Of a hell bent environment, the odds against us Back to the wall y'all, refuse to fall All hands on deck yes, prepare to brawl Uhh, every time I try to have a good time why? Somebody always fuckin it up, killin my high, damn Monkey wrench they whole program, party over By that time I'm dead sober In the midst of this whole shit fo' soldiers, dead gone You can tell that they was heat holders Everybody hit the deck when they expose tech, I fled the set Bitch slipped and caught a broke neck, some Brooklyn kids Rushed the coat check, they whole set, stompin Duke Half to death and took his Rolex, it's horrible Like a front page article, Mister Pitiful About a step away now we critical, uhh As I boned out I heard the people shout NIGGAZ, yea cold turn the party out! Uh uh uh uh uh uh uh ( sirens ) ************************************************** The Glide[Intro: Raekwon] Wu-Tang... yeah (what up son) you know It's back to that good ol' thing again, you know? (Pass that, pass that, man) Word up, we do this tremendously (It's on, Rae) word up from staircase to stage Yeah... (yo who that?) You know what it is (Oh shit... that's the Wu niggas man) aiyo [Raekwon] From out the air space, I'm rockin' leather pants in the tenth grade My pen blaze, now we in the wind gate, killin' haze Put this shit back in order, do it like the crack days Stack up, you little niggas back up, your raps suck I demolish a maggot, faggot lines, nigga, you'se a savage But don't never compare me to your wack times I'll smash your hood up, yeah, anybody you call I straight mash out, for cash nigga, put up The Embassy's calling, Wu-Tang, Wu-Tang Enemies is falling, y'all niggas ain't good enough Now acknowledge the strength, we stand like buildings In the city, raise that rent up, y'all niggas gonna give me, baby Yeah, what, fucker, we stomp niggas out like XUV's Then fuck ya girl in the but-ut Nine rap playboys, see me in the Playboy Mansion With the playboys on, I play rid-ough [Hook: La the Darkman] Nigga, we glide when we ride, don't choke when we smoke Disrespect fam, yo ass gon' get smoked We got real money, seven figure deal money I'm in the Samuel Jackson, Time to Kill money [U-God] Yeah, we got them anthems, we handsome and raw All day, cops harass, but we laugh at the law And a fiend got my stash, I blast through your door I caught her with the four, his dame was frozen She loves sniffing coke til her veins is bulging You punk motherfucker, your ribs is frail I've been eating calamari, getting big in jail [La the Darkman] Nigga, we glide when we ride, don't choke when we smoke [Method Man] I got that sidedish soup of the day, eye candy With the sweetest love, one bite, your tooth'll decay I'm moving units like I'm moving the yay, and like they say In this business, you either in it, bitch, or you in the way Sky's the limit, I ain't come here to play, or come to shit where I lay Who in that six blunt, clipping his tray Sippin' some Ice Water, dipping with Rae Tipping these tricks, dripping for pay And knowing half them bitches is gay T.M.I. blowing tree in sky, we on the job So be abvised, that wack niggas, needn't apply S.I., represent til we die, this track is pitching to fry Enter the Dragon, I be spitting that fire Keep ya balls off, so calling you dogs off Cuz word to these jeans, hanging off of my ass, I never fall off The sensei, with this pen I slay Pick up a queen in Miami, then get M.I.A., John Blaze, bitch [Hook 2X] ************************************************** Walk On[Intro: sample (Method Man)] "Walk on" (yeah, yeah, yeah) [Verse 1: Method Man] It's Meth, back on that old shit Pick my ho's with the same finger I pick my nose with These flows get, hotter than most chicks, get the picture I'm focused, got nothing but cock for cock-roaches, bitch, I'm gone before you noticed Ducking these coppers, try'nna make the coldest Spot you with the bricks and the baking sodas Me and my soldier, we taking over, taking payola From all these stations and record labels, they killing culture, tell 'em niggas "Walk on" [Verse 2: Redman] Yo, I blow ya minds, like Kurt Cobain My block is hot like Lil' Wayne, I'll pop ya little chain I'm ready, hip hop is not gon' be the same Like the Roc and Dame, I'll dot the little change Nigga, I ain't scared, boy, yes sir If I wasn't a beast, you niggas wouldn't whisper I'm like, y'all can fuck y'all self, I'm getting paid daily Plus keepin' it real, keep you broke, can't tell me, nigga "Walk on" [Verse 3: Method Man] Huh, now go say that I don't quiver, and any chick Caught with dirt under her nail's a gold digger Yeah, I tell the people, like I told RZA Man, I got Meth and on the day that I don't, I'll let you know, nigga Nah, no carbon copies, they ain't got me, but they can watch me Jewels jingling, middle finger at paparazzi Not too cocky, but still, ain't too many niggas can top me So bounce you foes and pull ya shoes up, nigga "Walk on" [Verse 4: Redman] Don't even blink, think fast, make the right move Got a gun on ya, like Pinky had on Ice Cube I don't play, homey, I got my stripes, too I'mma sky high-a-trist, I smoke in a flight suit, nigga Recognize, like Sam Sneed'll "back down" You sick and tired of wack niggas, then act now I show you how it's done, nigga, Gilla House Give you a whole clip, turn your ruby glitter out, nigga "Walk on" [Verse 5: Method Man] And beat ya feet up, I'm sick with these dice, so put ya g's up Then back a lighter tree, about to get the energy up I milk like double D cup, plus, I air it out just like a sneaker Will win, and then "key" your car like Alicia Yup, my Meth is off the meter, more Yankee caps than Derek Jeter Try'nna catch me a diva, then I'mma catch and meet ya Might spill a thong, but still a don, still got Love, for my baby moms, we just don't get along, hold the fuck on "Walk on" [Verse 6: Redman] Allow me to reintroduce -- nah, I don't need it If you ain't got it since '92, nigga, beat it Hop in the 4 of ya 7, black two-seater Pull out a hammer, big as a vacuum cleaner Nigga, I roll heavy, bitch, I roll steady Get that dough Reggie, me fall off, really? You better ask who the best rapper in ya hood And when you mimick me, muthafucka, do it good, nigga "Walk on" ************************************************** Intro[Intro: sample] Make marijuana legal, make marijuana legal Make marijuana legal, make marijuana legal (well speak your mind then) Ok, I will, no one has the right to tell me what I can do with my own body What I can eat, drink or smoke, this is a free country And no one can take away my constitutional rights Hey man, can you put me on and I can say anything I want Is that what I need to do? (Yea) Then why isin't alcohol made illegal? Why isin't that While you drinking it, it hang on and disposes your liver Besides that, it's a habitat for alcohol Besides that, cigarettes are much worse than pot No one ever got killed by pot (you tell 'em, you tell 'em) God damn it, man, everything, you can get us anything you want (Anything you want, marijuana legal Make marijuana legal, what's so bad anyway What's so bad about feeling good? There's nothing wrong with blowing crack, yea!) Stop, look & listen, guess who coming up? And y'all was dumb enough to think that Method's number's up Pockets so fat, they need a tummy tuck, you hungry fucks Can sum it up, I give my money up, spit at a honey Then split a honey Dutch, roll it up, can't roll with us If you can't hold your liquor, throw it up, y'all know what up See we them niggas, ain't no ho in us, the flow is nuts I'm off the meter, momma wished that I was off the reefer But, for now, I got this game up in the cobra clutch Plus, the silverback gorilla swigger, shot of Tequila to the gut Nigga, trust, I got that Killa up What y'all ain't feelin' us? Ain't feelin' ya When half ya niggas posing similar, yea Ladies and gents, I think this game need a enema, yea It's "common sense", I Used 2 Love H.E.R., now they pimpin' her, yeah But if you Enter the Wu-Tang, you tripping Like somebody tied together your shoestring, now listen I'm the, real deal, come on, come back to get ya like bad karma Y'all niggas is throwing rocks with glass armor Fuck the court system, pleading the fifth And if Def Jam is deaf, start reading my lips I'm cocky, possibly I got my reasons and shit They ain't built a man that can stop me from feeding my kids [Hook: Method Man] And if you don't know where I'm coming from, never know where I be in Most likely, where ya start at'll be the place where you eating And anybody hating on him, hating on them That's right, anybody hating on him, hating on them, motherfuckers [Outro: Method Man] How could you ever say that I'm washed up When I'm the dirtiest thing in sight 4:21... The Day After ************************************************** 4 Ever[Hook: Megan Rochell] We both know, that our love will grow And forever, will be you and me... [Method Man] Give me a woman that get down for me, my one and only That don't fuss or fuck around on me, or leave me lonely Not just a honey, but a homey, just wanna hold me Cuz she got alotta love for me, and put it on me If I need that, plus she understand me when I beat that It's sweet like candy, this time, I might just eat that You steal my heart, sweetheart, then you can keep that Let's bar hop and find us a spot where we can chief at Push the seats back, you got the kinda body niggas beep at Try to speak at, but get no feedback Sophisticated, Miss Highly Edumicated Living well, lady that made it, type of woman you stay with [Hook] [Method Man] Give me a queen that respects a "king", just like Coretta Get everything except the ring, for worse or better Even through the stormy weather, rain, sleet, snow Whatever, see if it go down, we go together Like Twix bars, ain't no problem that we can't fix, ma You ain't gotta sugar my tank, or key the kid car Cuz broken hearts leave big scars, when emotions get hit hard Niggas get drunk and hit the strip bar But that ain't even ya man's style, even back as a manchild That's where I stood, and where I stand now I'm throwing rocks at your window pane Trying to bang, girl, like injure pain, you know the game [Hook] [Megan Rochell] No matter what we go through (what we go through) I'll be there for you (there for you) I'll never let you down, I'll just hold you down, oh-oooh No matter where we be (where we be) I'll do it all again (all again) The ups and down, I'll hold you down, oh-oooh [Method Man] Give me a woman that get down for me, my one and only She don't fuss or fuck around on me, or leave me lonely Not just a honey, but a homey, just wanna hold me Cuz she got alotta love for me, and now I gotta Lotta love for her, might even take a slug for her And everywhere we go, pull out that red rug for her Yeah, them back rubs in the bathtub, got me cleaning my act up I'm ready to shack up, now that's love [Megan Rochell] Nobody can love you like me boy I'll promise to be your only girl Don't ever leave, just stay You will be down for me, anyway Ahhhhhhhhhh, you and me together, baby [Hook] ************************************************** Tease[Intro: Method Man] Uh huh, No I.D It's another one right here, I love women Know why (why nigga?) cause they love me back Come on, come on, come on, come on, (come on) yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah Come on, come on, come on, come on, yeah, yeah, yo, yo, yo [Verse 1 - Method Man] Now that I got you in the mood, it's way past time ya shook dude Cause I'm the best thing since cooked food Holler at your frog, I'll be at the lily pad near the log And let me drop it off in them drawers Baby doll, hood ? with sugar walls That talk back to ya like, nigga you shoulda called Word, the kid got a thing for big curves Might find him down on Sesame Street with big birds Big pimpin', all dames is all game So fine with her beautiful mind, she all brain A head docter, get it poppin' like Reddenbacher Chicks call me gravel pit dick, the bed rocker Big John Studda, motherfuck who fuck mother Gots you covered like Magnum XL rubber Easy does ya, but we never love her Ya down for the get down girls, go work at Dubya's ohhhh [Hook: Chinky] Give me one reason to stop teasin', cause I Know you got good sex for me, tell me what comes next for me Give me one reason to stop teasin', cause I Know you got good sex for me, tell me what comes next for me [Verse 2: Method Man] Hey ladies, oh baby, ya all crazy And freaks for some grade A meat, it's all gravy From sun down to sun up, I stay on the bone Like I'm creeping on the come up, get it, got it, I'm gone Now I got hun, riding shotgun Windows halfway down, cause she a hot one Love it when them chicks pop shit, and pop gum My team cuttin' but we ain't cuppin', finger fuckin' everything cluckin' Baby I'm frostbitten iceberg slim into black women When Three's Company ask pigeon who Jack trippin' Man listen, money slippin, it's honey dippin' And if she come up missin', don't worry she went pimpin' Ya gotta be, down with the cause before ya come Down with the drawers, how many of y'all down with menage Let's make this understood, if it's 3 am and all to the good It don't matter if she hood or she's hollywood, ohhhh [Hook: Chinky] Give me one reason to stop teasin', cause I Know you got good sex for me, tell me what comes next for me Give me one reason to stop teasin', cause I Know you got good sex for me, tell me what comes next for me [Interlude: Chinky] What do you expect from me (uh huh, uh huh) I know of those promises, of love and affection (come on, steady good ma) There's something about you, that's got me going (uh huh, uh huh) But is it worth not knowing if you're gonna be around (now, now) [Verse 3: Method Man] Who the fuck is your daddy, and who your king girl Are you unhappily married, don't see no ring girl Soul sister, can't get ya to hell with ya At the players ball, Cinderella lost her Chanel slipper Now that's flavor neighbor, shake what ya momma gave ya Twist, stick and move like Layla, call you mañana later I love the misbehavior, no minor, miss ya major No finer chick can ? God bless the bitch that made ya [Hook: Chinky] Give me one reason to stop teasin', cause I Know you got good sex for me, tell me what comes next for me Give me one reason to stop teasin', cause I Know you got good sex for me, tell me what comes next for me [Outro: Method Man and Chinky] Haha, yeah, yeah, the ladies love Big John stud Yeah, get it right, don't get it fucked up Big dick daddy, ride the big sick Caddy All I need now is a chick with a big thick fatty Now go back to doing whatchu was doin, when you was doin' it, gone Gimme one reason, gimme one reason, gimme one reason Gimme one reason, gimme one reason, tell me what comes next for me ************************************************** Method ManChorus: M-E-T, H-O-D, Man M-E-T, H-O-D, Man M-E-T, H-O-D, Man M-E-T, H-O-D, Man Hey you get off my clooud Let me get raw with my southpaw style Mover, puffin' on a fat blunt from Cuba It's the Meth-Tical jet to Cal, I'm the buddha Monk on the hunt for machine gun foes I keeps you open like a slug from the shotgun punk Double-barrel, yeah Meth bring it to them proper Partner, you ain't got no wins in me casa Straight up, you movin' too fast so baby wait up Took one, added seven more now you eight up Get on down wit' your bad self Get on down, listen to the sound, come on Few can ever get this whole commit legit See you all up in my dick But you don't know shit, uh-huh What's your definition of a real emcee From what you dedicated, hey it must be me Meth-Tical, a lewd descendant of the loud hip-hop I go on to the break of dawn, and just don't stop Give me the green light, and the sign one way Have you had your meth today Huh, move it in, move it out Stick it in, pull it out Shake it up, shake it down Come on down, Meth-Tical Oh I often pray that I will But today I am still Just a... Chorus M-E-T, H-O-D, Man M-E-T, H-O-D, Man M-E-T, H-O-D, Man M-E-T, H-O-D, Man Rrrappers can't get with the style extra wicked Rap flow is bangin' like butter on a biscuit A tisket, a tasket I'm not tryin' to have it Mic flow show up and try to grab it ? ? I breaks it down, I gets loud for my crowd Filthy, dirty like a worm underground Turn into a crazy early bird, that's my word Before I kick the bucket I'm a kick 'em to the dirt Check out the cloud, smoke out from the mouth Other brothers got mad love (?) style for the hood, hey Enter the square if you dare Without a fro, I'm so raw that I'm real I'm goin' to the country, I'm goin' to the fair To see the senorita, with flowers in her hair And get mine, cuz she love me long time Bartender bring more wine Get in line for the... Chorus M-E-T, H-O-D, Man M-E-T, H-O-D, Man M-E-T, H-O-D, Man Here I am, here I am, the Method Man Wu-Tang, killer bees on the swarm, it ain't safe no more 1994, the rugged raw ************************************************** How HighTakin it from the top? Tippy? Tippy? How high? The Ultimate high 'Scuse me as I kiss the sky Sing a song of six pence, a pocket full a rye Who the fuck wanna die for their culture? Stalk the dead body like a vulture Tical get, blacker than your blackest stallion Hit your house'n projects, I represent the Shaolin my nigga Hell yes, 'Apocalypse Now', the gun blow It be goin' down, diggy diggy down diggy down down While the planets and the stars and the moons collapse When I raise my trigga finga all y'all niggas hit the decks 'Cause ain't no need for that, hustlers and hardcores Raw to the floor raw like Reservoir Dogs The Green-Eyed Bandit can't stand it With more Fruitier Loops then that Toucan Sam Bitch Plus, the Bombazee got me wild Fuckin' with us is a straight suicide 10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 Murder 1, lyric at your door Tical bring it to that ass raw Breakin' all the rules like glass jaws Nigga, you got to get mine to get yours Fucka, we don't need no rap tour I'd rather kick the facts and catch you with the rapture More than you bargained for Tical, that stays open like an all night store For real, I keeps it ill like a piece of blue steel Pointed at your temple with the intent to kill And end your existence, M-E-T Ain't no use for resistance, H-O-D I bees the ultimate rush to any nigga on dust The Egyptian Musk use to have me pull mad sluts I shift like a clutch with the Ruck Examine my nuts, I don't stop till I get enough Your shit broke down, light your flare Since the dark side tears you into Hollywood squares 6 million ways to die, so I chose Made it 6 million and 1 with your eyes closed The blindfold, cold, so you can feel the rap And shatter the glass and second half on your monkey ass And yo my man, hit me now (Tical) Bitches use to play me, now they can't forget me now Forget me not, I rock the spot, check Glock Empty off a lickin' off a hip hop Fuck the billboard, I'm a bullet on my block How you dope when you payed for your Billboard spot? Look up in the sky, it's a bird, it's a plane It's the funk doctor spock smokin' Buddha on a train How high? So high that I can kiss the sky How sick? So sick that you can suck my dick Look up in the sky it's a bird it's a plane Recognize, Johnny Blaze, ain't a damn thing changed How high? So high that I can kiss the sky How sick? So sick that you can suck my dick 'Til my man Raider Ruckus come home It ain't really on till the Ruckus get, home Puff a meth bone, now I'm off to the red zone We don't need your dirt weed we got a fuckin' O Check it, I brings havoc with my hectic Bring the Pain lyrics screamin' for the antiseptic Movin' on your left kid, and I'm methted, out my fuckin' dome piece Plus I got no love for the beast Hailin' from the big East Coast Where niggas pack toast Home of the drug kingpins and cut throats (Hey boy, you's the rude boy on the block) (You try and stop the bum rush you will get popped) As I run around with a racist My style was born in the 50 stair cases Dig it, eff a rap critic He talk about it while I live it If Red got the blunt, I'm the second one to hit it Look up in the, I got the verbs, nouns and Glocks in ya Enter the centa, lyrics bang like rico-chet Rabbit, I brings havoc with an A-K matic Rollin' blunts an all day habit I get it on like Smif'n'Wes Punks take a sip and test Who split your vest The funk phenomenon I'm bombin' you like Lebanon Blow canals of Panama Just off stamina Styles not to be fucked with, or played with Fuck the pretty hoes, I love those, Section A Bitches Hittin' switches, twistin' wigs with Fat radical mathematical type scriptures I dig up in your planets like Diga Boo, scared you, blew you to smithereens Fuck the marines, I got machines To light the spliff, and read Mad magazine I fly more heads than Continental Wreck ya 5 times like US AIR off an instrumental Look I'm not a half way crook with bad looks But I may murder your case like your name was Cal Brooks I breaks 'em up proppa Ask Biggie Smalls 'Who Shot Ya' Funk doctor, with the 12 Gauge Mossberg Look, I got the tools like Rickle To make your mind tickle For the nine nickle (Yo Red, yo Red) Punk ass pussy ass (You ain't gotta say no more man, that's it) Word up Tical, we out (It's over) ************************************************** Y.O.U.[Meth] Traces of lipstick on my collar Baby you got to do some more to get this last dollar Hotter than lava when you come believe that I'ma follow Lady Medana liketo drink, but she don't like to swallow Rockin' that Prada, Honey stay up in the beauty parlor Girl it would be my honour, make you my babymomma Holler she hella proper, fuck with tha dumbin' cousin Sucka for lovin'-buggin', shockin' them duckin' buckin' Suckin' then finga-fuckin', then let me show you somethin' I'll knock the stuffin' off that English Muffin Can't tell me nuthin', uhn uhn Pushin' yo' panty botton when I'm stuckin' All of a sudden, baby gun-duckin', BBC! Oh girl you nasty [Redman] Yo' I get it on poppin' Doc, unlockin' yo' doors, clockin' my drawers Suckin' your mouth with a torn stockin' Rapped around and knockin' , I'm creepin' when you parkin' Shoot out the lights, darken the area, then hop in Pick up my bigga nigga who helped me figured the plottin' Droppin' the tops, splittin' the dough Shoppin' in rotten--New York, first flockin' Because I'm heavy like Bo stockin' coat Watch ya coat from Fo sparkin', they leave the parking Niggas unforgetable can be forgotten Doc and Meth entering the top ten! Choppin' it raw, lockin' 'n blockin' Only raw choppin', it's metaphores, so cops can stop watchin' I put 'em in and cock 'em, ready to rock 'em stock 'em Renovate your appartment, when these two things barkin' My Mackamichi knockin', bougie hoes be spottin' on they tampons I get 'em drippin' like Licky Falls [Chorus]: Redman, [Meth] Now who a bitch nigga?! [Now who a snitch nigga?!] Now who the shit nigga?! [Now who the sick nigga?!] Now who you with nigga?! [With who you with nigga?!] Who rock shit nigga?! [Who pop shit nigga?!] [Come on!] Come on! [Come on!] Come on! [Come on!] Come on! [Come on!] Come on! [Come on!] Come on! [Come on!] Come on! [Come on!] Come on! [Come on!] Come on! [Redman] I figured it out: ya'll niggas ain't as big as yo' mouth My street-value well it ain't won't even fit in yo' couch When I bust titties come out No matter what city hardcore committee's dumb to fuck out Son's ya duck out! Nuthin' to lose, poppin' a two up in ya goose Buckle yo shoes, cuffle my boots, fuckin' with you Blow my Anaconda like Nirvana Marijuana got bitches on they knees in they Gabbanas Gettin' 'em dirty dirty with the hersey and the bombin' Holla the drama, fire two in ya armor Ya pigeon betta call ma, the ice is a honor Twin help me lift her arm up, lebaba(?) with ya momma Even dirty her donna, my dick is heronomic Pull out a young Geroni-mo, BBC! Oh girl you nasty [Meth] Itchin' to start the mission, flippin' so keep yo' distance Ain't go no pot to piss in? Ain't got no competition Listen, I slip the clippin', trippin' you get me lippin' Come mis and catch a whippin', now kids is actin' different Ditchin' them double-dippin', chickens that keep forgettin' I ain't the one for trickin', on anybody kickin' Rippin' these compositions, scrippin' them paper-written Hold 'em and hit 'n stickin', ballin' like Scottie Pippen It's hot in Hell's Kitchen, but still I'm force spittin' Shittin' like 'No he didn't', wipin' my ass and splittin' Chattin' like Joe gettin' All in the zone settin' it off like Big Daddy And ain't no half-steppin'...I keep reppin' Staten you keep sweatin', frontin' and ass-bettin' Duckin' my Smith & Wessum , trashin' the Meth and catchin' Hell, we leave you restin' in PEACE, BBC! Oh girl you nasty [Chorus] ************************************************** Who I’m Iz[Intro: Method Man] You know it, just like before, muthafucka It ain't never went no where, we still drink forties Still got niggas that'll whip that ass for me, come on The real way... yeah... another Rockwilder joint Up in your muthafuckin' mouth, nigga... Come on... put my fucking dicks in they mouth I ain't playing with ya'll niggas, come on, come on Come on, God damn, hit with the... with my what? God damn, with the what? Huh, muthafucka, mutha -- yo, yo [Method Man] I'm anti-everything, ya'll niggas is for Eat up everything on my plate, then eat yours Ain't got no table manners, I disrespect the law Off that 99 bananas, disconnect a jaw Throw your muthafucking hands up, never comb my hair Never pull my pants up, I keep it cracking For the whole borough of Staten Got to keep it ugly, bloody sanitary napkins Catch me on the 14th of February, actin' Like I got no love for this whole world, smashing Anybody asking, no questions, and answer Pop another X for the extravaganza Bong bong, can't nobody fuck around with John John Take you rappers on and your man with them pom-pom From Vietnam, from the phenom, forever mo', back like before You see my Clan, see my M.O, act like you know [Hook: Method Man] Who I'm is, at your crib, with his bad ass kids Who I'm is, fuck ya'll nigs, we get down like this Who I'm is, the phenom, them niggas can't live Who I'm is, we ain't got shit, something got to give Watch ya step, kid (huh), watch ya step, kid (muthafucka) Watch ya step, kid, watch ya step, kid (come on) Watch ya step, kid (yeah yeah), watch ya step, kid (yo yo) Watch ya step, kid, watch ya step, kid (cook a bag of 'dro) [Method Man] My middle name Mud, dirty water flow Leave a ring around the tub, grimy mothafuck Kid, I don't give a what, if you feel like I feel Throw that third finger up to the sky like such Follow this, funky like some staircase piss Take a wish, breeze you when your track run sniff Off the snow, that's the only way I can grow We them kids in the back, yelling "wack", at the show Looky here, I'm steppin' to the game, like it's my rookie year Home court advantage, two blunts, one beer Beware, I'm from a place, where They pop for that CREAM and that bling bling, yeah Jimmy Crack Corn and I don't mothafucking care So react like I'm strapped, keep your hands in the air Pain is the game, and it's full contact I ain't got to say my name, let the whole world ask [Hook] [Method Man] Ayo, Rockwilder, this beat is off the dog collar Hit Ja Rule at D36 tell him to holla At your nigga, murderous flow that I deliver Consider this M.C.'s last chance to reconsider Their future, cuz ain't no future in fronting My crew need something cuz we ain't used to nothing The hardest M.C.'s rock the hardest production Dick stay hard all day like when we fucking Meth with the F.C., my disk's in the decks Like the clip in the tech, and we risking your neck If you fixing to flex, come in, pour out some liquor For your dead homey, ya'll still acting like ya'll know me [Hook] ************************************************** P.L.O. (Remix)[Intro] Ch'yeah Uh huh It's the remix, mother fucker! Yes, sir! PLO [Chorus: Lounge Lo & Hue Hef] Where you think he got it from? PLO (PLO) Lights be so melodic at the PLO (PLO) PLO (PLO), PLO (PLO) They'll be a buncha killers at the PLO (PLO) Where you think he got it from? PLO (PLO) Yeah Come and dig your pockets at the PLO (PLO) A new generation, we still out there gettin' money PLO (PLO), PLO (PLO) Look, look Raised me from the slums now I'm CEO (CEO) Yeah [Verse 1: Hue Hef] You heard PLO style, nigga, I'm back again (Okay) They told you G Bully be well in love with them Africans (Facts) Heffner back on that shit, I guess they mad again (Aw shit) Get crazy on the records, I tear 'em down when I'm battlin' (Yeah) Come and off your re-up Hit the strip, I drop a bomb in thirty minutes like I'm North Korea (Sheesh) It take a lot to beat us (Yeah), you better join us (Uh) You still keep lookouts on the corner, they be on us I still rep the PLO like I'm Arafat (Uh huh) Crazy like a terrorist, hella, pitch it, then I'ma clap (Blap) Pull the trigga on any jigga, you fade to black This a liberation, they tried to take it, we took it back [Verse 2: Hanz On] That's where the trappers go and post the clocks Bacon, egg, and cheese, then it's off to get this gaup (Let's go) Mr. Barker gray and he ain't never gon' stop (Uh huh) Seen it from the bottom, everything look like the top I swear to God, Park Hill made 'em, broke the mold (Yup) Solidify 'em, niggas frontin' on him, he reload (Reload) It's all about the work, money, never 'bout them hoes (Nope) Frontin' on a Staten, get your fuckery exposed (Fuckery) Frontin' on a Staten, we dismantle niggas, facts Fuck them niggas rattin', we should kill a couple stacks My people, are you with me? Where the fuck my hittas at? Park Hill lives on, still I lay 'em flat (Park Hill) [Chorus: Lounge Lo] Where you think he got it from? PLO (PLO) Lights be so melodic at the PLO (PLO) PLO (PLO), PLO (PLO) They'll be a buncha killers at the PLO (PLO) Where you think he got it from? PLO (PLO) Come and dig your pockets at the PLO (PLO) PLO (PLO), PLO (PLO) Raised me from the slums now I'm CEO (CEO) [Verse 3: Streetlife] PLO style buddah monks with the Dutch Master blunts Hashtag Fuck Donald Trump (Ha) Momma didn't raise no punk, tough love (Tough love) If push come to shove, nigga, I don't budge (Don't budge) This is what I does, I'm a born G (Born G) Check my DNA, all in the family Park Hillian, thoughts covered like an Arabian Titanum nod pointed at your cranium Criminal minds and verse, no compromisin' It's kill or be killed, no silver linin' Thin line, life or death, Bruce co-signin' Bottom line, dollar signs, gimmie mine [Verse 4: Method Man] PLO style, Mr. Meth, Staten Isle Still got shotguns to slam up in your chest piece, blow (Ha) We hot son, you could catch a hot one now And I'ma keep kickin' doors 'til we knock one down These rappers throwin' flags, they should be throwin' in the towel (Towel) Honey showin' me her pat I'm tryna throw it in her mouth (Ha) In fact, I'm throwin' bows like they throw 'em in the south Arm and Hammer, nothin' like the bakin' soda in your house Y'all don't really know what PLO about (About) Y'all just shoot box money to a CEO account (Ha) Put millions in the bank, roll a C-Lo and I'm out I be steppin' on these rappers like a kilo in the drought [Verse 5: Lounge Lo] I run through, the killer, high tops with the sweats on PLO boomers they lie and get they wreck on (Uh huh) Park Hill, my squad ill, you know the set strong It's the god damn, god damn up on this Meth song (Right) I'm from the oob building, yeah, where they bet wrong Sell crack, diss cats, yeah, boy, TEC long (Ha) I know you happy that that real nigga Tech gone Schoolboy load my flow y'all niggas slept on (Psh) Right, I'm in the elevator, lights out Get to the fourth floor, take a nigga life out (Ha) Hanz On, my man's on, no whiteout Meth Lab 2, the water team, we ride out [Chorus: Lounge Lo] Where you think he got it from? PLO (PLO) Lights be so melodic at the PLO (PLO) PLO (PLO), PLO (PLO) They'll be a buncha killers at the PLO (PLO) Where you think he got it from? PLO (PLO) Come and dig your pockets at the PLO (PLO) PLO (PLO), PLO (PLO) Raised me from the slums now I'm CEO (CEO) ************************************************** Back Blockz[Intro: Youngin] Huh? Huh? Huh? Ha! [Chorus: Youngin] Young nigga jookin' on the back block (Back block) In the kitchen whippin' 'til my hands hurt (Hands hurt) Foreign door, push got the trap spot (Trap spot) Couple nights shovin' hard by my damn self (Damn self) By my damn self, out there by my damn self I remember I was goin' hard by my damn self My damn self, I did by my damn self I remember niggas had me out there by my damn self (Ha!) [Verse 1: Cardi Express] Break a moment of silence I ain't dead, my life is frozen 'cause I'm goin' through it Niggas sendin' threats, it's only right that I'ma hold 'em to it I ain't scared, I fear for whoever say they owned up to it We don't hold grudges, they just shootin' 'cause I told 'em, "Do it" Say the wrong name and now he goin' on a killin' spree Get it playin' cutthroat, they don't wanna deal with me I got 'em creepin' wit' these murderer intentions Your hood is full of pussy, I be on it when the shift end I'm close to the edge, so why you guys pushin'? (Woo) Ten thousand strong, Leonidas got his life tookin' (Uh huh) They say it's good to grieve on a full stomach Droppin' the audacity of hope is what the hood wanted Tryna figure out what's acceptable The man behind the Cardigan, that album is impeccable My niggas got the loud homie, if it's stressin' you We lampin' in the isles, bring the papers and the Method through [Segue: Method Man] It's family, nigga, break 'em Just when you thought you had all the answers We changed the fuckin' question [Chorus: Youngin] Young nigga jookin' on the back block (Back block) In the kitchen whippin' 'til my hands hurt (Hands hurt) Foreign door, push got the trap spot (Trap spot) Couple nights shovin' hard by my damn self (Damn self) By my damn self, out there by my damn self I remember I was goin' hard by my damn self My damn self, I did by my damn self I remember niggas had me out there by my damn self (Ha!) [Verse 2: F.R.E.A.K.] I'm writin' scriptures, but they'll never quote it I'll always tote it for any nigga who say he want it A moment, 'cause my father never claimed a fool A full breed in a pit of bulls We ain't got shit to prove (Facts) I know some niggas who can't read but they can stitch a bone I'm laughin' at you niggas flippin' rules My uncle Carl told me stick and move It's young F.R.E.A.K. though Got these niggas tuckin' they chains like I was Deebo Ran through the Carter like Nino, just me and Geek though On the set I'm sendin' 'em slugs to free my 'migos (Shee) This back block deserted like Baghdad I'll be damned if they flash cash Reps comin' equipped wit' a gas mask See a killer but don't push me (Nah) and cash rules I'm outta my mind, play with my grind, I'm on my bully (Shee) See when y'all was tellin' stories 'round the campfire We was havin' shootouts, my whole camp fired [Chorus: Youngin] Young nigga jookin' on the back block (Back block) In the kitchen whippin' 'til my hands hurt (Hands hurt) Foreign door, push got the trap spot (Trap spot) Couple nights shovin' hard by my damn self (Damn self) By my damn self, out there by my damn self I remember I was goin' hard by my damn self My damn self, I did by my damn self I remember niggas had me out there by my damn self (Ha!) [Verse 3: Method Man] Another day in the life Uncle Meth but this time I brought the family in Murder was the case, you can't relate? Then you ain't family then (Nuh-uh) Not even a cousin, Auntie Em or even family friend Plan we in come with the ratchets, we some handymen Got my nephew in the Uber with them shooters Got my dawg on Eukanuba, put a shot through your medulla I don't hate you moolies, just an addict for the moolah To my cash rulers, never give a package to a user (Nah) That's my position, opposition can't maneuver That's a clue to why I'm sittin' in position to manure (Pfft) No Kamasutra, get your karma, you basura I mean garbage and there's clearly nothin' promised in your future Look at this old head drippin' on a back block (Back block) Rich, workin', like he whippin' up a crack rock (Crack rock) Fresh out the pot, pack flippin', make the trap hot And the family hustle kinda tiny but the stack not [Chorus: Youngin] Young nigga jookin' on the back block (Back block) In the kitchen whippin' 'til my hands hurt (Hands hurt) Foreign door, push got the trap spot (Trap spot) Couple nights shovin' hard by my damn self (Damn self) By my damn self, out there by my damn self I remember I was goin' hard by my damn self My damn self, I did by my damn self I remember niggas had me out there by my damn self (Ha!) ************************************************** I’ll Be There For You / You’re All I Need To Get By (Puff Daddy Mix)Rugged style, it's enough to make a hardrock smile Ha ha ha, cheeba cheeba y'all Cheeba cheeba y'all, and you don't stop Yeah yeah, cootie in the chair Cheeba cheeba y'all, and you don't stop Yeah yeah, cootie in the -- check Tical You're all, I need To get by, ahhhhh You're all, I need To get by, ahhhhh Shorty I'm there for you anytime you need me For real girl, it's me in your world, believe me Nuttin make a man feel better than a woman Queen with a crown that be down for whatever There are few things that's forever, my lady We can make war or make babies Back when I was nothin You made a brother feel like he was somethin That's why I'm with you to this day boo no frontin Even when the skies were gray You would rub me on my back and say "Baby it'll be okay" Now that's real to a brother like me baby Never ever give my cootie away and keep it tight aight And I'ma walk these dogs so we can live In a fat ass crib with thousands of kids Word life you don't need a ring to be my wife Just be there for me and I'ma make sure we Be livin in the effin lap of luxury I'm realizing that you didn't have to funk wit me But you did, now I'm going all out kid And I got mad love to give, you my nigga Like sweet morning dew I took one look at you And it was plain to see You were my destiny With you I'll spend my time I'll dedicate my life I'll sacrifice for you Dedicate my life for you I got a love jonz for your body and your skin tone Five minutes alone I'm already on the bone Plus I love the fact you got a mind of your own No need to shop around you got the good stuff at home Even if I'm locked up North you in the world Wrapped in three-fourths of cloth never showin your stuff off, boo It be true me for you that's how it is I be your Noah, you be my Wiz I'm your Mister, you my Mrs. with hugs and kisses Valentine cards and birthday wishes? Please Be on another level of planning, of understanding The bond between man and woman, and child The highest elevation, cuz we above All that romance crap, just show your love I'm sick of police Ha ha ha, cheeba cheeba y'all And you don't stop Yeah yeah, cootie in the - Tical! Cheeba cheeba y'all, and you don't stop Yeah yeah, cootie in the chair, Tical! Cheeba cheeba y'all, and you don't stop Yeah yeah, cootie in the chair, Tical Mary J. raw, and Meth-Tical (Like sweet morning dew) Yeah yeah (I took one look at you) cootie in the chair, Tical (And it was plain to see) Cheeba cheeba y'all (You were my destiny, baby) Cheeba cheeba y'all Cheeba cheeba y'all, bring it on, yeah What's that shit that they be smoking? No romance without finance for now Baby, please, ninety-five Ticallion Stallion, ha ha, ha ha Man woman and child, yeah (Anything you need, anything you need) ************************************************** Ice Cream Man[Intro] Ice cream! Ice cream! Mom! Throw down some money! The ice cream man is coming! [Verse 1: Method Man] Brothers don't know how to flow, like "oh Shit, I can dip I'm a hip hop pro" Who wanna get fucked, the hunt that bucks the buck Viva like a squirrel, and get a nut, niggy nut Over huffing, puffing Blow me like down and Inside, outside, bring me back around And bam!, out the fucking sky like shazam! You don't know, I tell you who I am The drifty, shifty Killer rhyme swiftly So much funk, the method true Let's get lifty Not dusted Cause that'll wreck your mental Thus get me flustered, looking Oriental That's when I'm Fu Manchu from the Wu- Tang!, put me in the chamber, now bang Zoom!, to the fucking moon I boom Don't crowd my mic, alright, give me room And I'll show you holmes, how a Meth should be born Cuz when I flip God, I'm as hard as a stone Rolling, rolling, rolling Bitch I'll have them pussy lips swollen! On the trigger Your bigger Now how you figure that My click got more figures Than you got nigga naps And curiosity, what, killed the cat Satisfaction, brought that cat back And I'll come back, as the Attack of the Killer Tomatoes They nothin' in the morning like H.O Yo Got to go, Got to go! Ima stop it And drop it like so! [Hook] Ma! Ma! Throw down some money! The ice cream man is coming! [Verse 2: Method Man] Do ya Do ya Do ya Do ya Do ya Do ya danger! Here comes another Wu-Tang head banger! Straight from the panty, ante, man And brother can you dig it, like my man Digger Dan When I shoot that clip, I be trigger happy, man Never comb my hair, keep it nigga nappy, man Give me a light to spark the bone, true I can be the microphone, one, two, check The Method, make me wanna wreck shit for Wu-Tang squad, keep it hard to the core Midnight hour, fresh out the shower I be man, He-Man, I got the power To get ill, pardon me as I show my skill And still, I got too Real On a lyric, on it, raw deal Then it gets fat I guess it wasn't on the pill Like Cypress Hill said Well "I Could Just Kill A Man" Fill it full of lead, nobody can get iller than The jack mover, word up, it's a stick up Try any fancy moves, you get licked up By the majestic smoker of the method Bone, and I'm known to like Wreck shit well! [Hook/Outro] ************************************************** Half Man Half Amazin’[Pete Rock] To all my Bronx niggas (Yeah!) "And I say right about now get ready to get down To the funky sound of the man they call" "Pete Rock" "and Method Man" [Method Man] Dumbheads, what? Cherryheads.. what? Appleheads, what what what? (Meth-Tical, you know how we do Dunn, yeah Hit it off you know what I mean, like this y'all) P.R., take them to the bridge, uhh! [Chorus: Pete Rock] Float on this magnificient track wise intelligent All-star Jamerican yes the rap vet Reinforce your threat, who got the money to bet Against the number one, holdin down the position Crush the competition with the limited edition Heavy caliber rhyme, shootin down ya peace sign The war's on for real, run grab ya shield Yo Meth, take the steel and let these cats know the deal [Method Man] Style blazin, Iron Lung on this collaboration Money for the takin I ain't sweatin confrontation With P.R.ah, we beez the mens of tomorrow Master, license to kill, bringin the horror To ya house like Amityville, keepin it more than real Niggas ain't supposed to feel, Hot Nicks ya know the deal If you read the resume, gives a fuck what niggas say Timb boots to pave the way, here I come to save the day Yes stoppin the fuckin press, transform to Mister Mef See that logo on my chest, save a damsel in distress Hot shit, in the song, got to Get Until It's Gone Kids wanna get it on get smacked up and shit upon Right til ya prove me wrong, think you can do me hunh? Can't we all just get along, in this modern Babylon? Dueling with my nemesis, layin down laws Don't start if you can't finish it, I'm telling you Pah! Got the power of a meteor shower, comin down On all ya cowards, trickin ya funds and sniffin powders Here we come, straight from the slums, Dynamic Duo son Ghost Rider Jonathan and Soul Brother Number One [Chorus: repeat 2X (sampled and scratched by Rock)] "Sendin this one out.. to my man" - [Prodigy] "Meth-Tical" - [Meth] "Pete Rock" "Half man, half amazin" - [Nas] "Make it hot nigga!" - [Big Pun] "For you!" "KnowhatI'msayin?" - [Prodigy] [Method Man] Leapin tall buildings in a single bound, faster than a round Blastin out a forty pound, y'all niggas fuck around Take that and handle it, Method Man I get Strong with Titantic shit, that means abandon ship Get a life and get a grip, there ain't a problem that I can't fix Transmittin live from Apocalypse And the Cho-co-late, Boy Wonder, my sidekick Cowabunga, these evil doers days are numbered We flexin like the X-Men on rap veteran That be's no question, boy ya need protection son I'm burnin up check the temperature Ya fuckin wit The Last Emperor, Iron Lung dangerous son For all who enter the, 36, Deadliest chambers For all the prejudiced, entertainers There ain't a damn thing you can tell us, bite ya tongue I be the troublesome, don't sleep niggas is holdin son [Pete Rock] Pick em off form long range break em down to small change A New York Giant stand in front of ya ... Squad, what up God, a million to one one odds That you can't stop this bullet I'm like Refrigerator Perry rush right through it and just do it So act like ya knew it, the Mount Vernon/Shaolin fluid The rap committee coming live Through ya city, swing hard like Ken Griffey Gain stats, now who's next up to bat? Knock em out the box, Method Man and Pete Rock Celebrating victory, rap world remedy Take a double dose deadly Deadly kid.. yo! "C'mon!" "One two!" "The numba one set and sound" - [BDP] "Meth-Tical" - [Method] "Pete Rock, this one's for the crew" - [CL Smooth] "Half man, half amazin" - [Nas] "One two!" "The numba one set and sound" - [BDP] "Meth-Tical" - [Method] "on arrival" "Pete Rock, this one's for the crew" - [CL Smooth] "Half man, half amazin" - [Nas (continues to echo to end)] ************************************************** Bridge Boys[Intro: Method Man] Rockness, what up? Ron Browz, what up? Staten Island, what up? Hanz, what up? Apple, what up? Time to go in, hah Ch'yeah [Verse 1: Method Man] Feel the tension when I walk into a room Watch your step and watch your tone, boy, you talkin' to a goon Been a problem since them old heads was snortin' off the spoon Half you rappers gettin' shortbread and offered Lorna Doones Put a ratchet on your forehead, I'm talkin' to baboons I remain a Major Payne if you ain't part of my platoons I'm a warhead, you know, big explosion with the 'shroom It's the sandman, they hopin' I don't show up with the broom That's a sweeper They knockin' at your door, that's the reaper With lead arms all around your head, that's a sleeper Rappers paranoid, that's the reefer I mean if she a bad broad and let you raw dog, that's a keeper My sisters, they don't rock with my dad, my moms either Now I'm here with Rock, I'ma dad with mom's features Ironic, I never make a threat that I couldn't promise Be honest, I'm dope and I ain't never spoke ebonics [Chorus: Kash Verrazano] The players might change but the game don't stop (Woo) Tryna move some 'caine, get it Range or a drop Forbes sayin' I made it (Sayin' I made it) But tell 'em I'm hood famous (But tell 'em I'm hood famous) The players might change but the game don't stop (Woo) Tryna move some 'caine, get it Range or a drop One more blunt 'cause I'm faded (Blunt 'cause I'm faded) Just for the niggas that hate it (Niggas that hate it) [Verse 2: Rock] 1010 WINS, hindsight's 20/20 Thirty-thirty up in 40/40, light somethin' ugly It's a fifty-fifty chance niggas gon' die over nothin' Get hit, sit calm, nigga, try somethin' funny Road warrior, Musa almost got locked up abroad Heard you snitchin' on bitches, dude, you locked up a broad Maybe Jamaican fakin' but you would not, no reward Class by myself but I am not no schoolboy I'm not a mama's boy but I am my mama's boy For her, I would gladly go nuts, that's my Almond Joy I ain't no boy scout but your boy scout your boy like a scout and report Put one in your boy's scalp (Boom) Meth'll manhandle your man and you I ain't even gon' let him do that, bo-blap, blam dude Don't get your hands dirty, son Son gon' do his whole fam dirty Word to P and Dirty [Chorus: Kash Verrazano] The players might change but the game don't stop (Woo) Tryna move some 'caine, get it Range or a drop Forbes sayin' I made it (Sayin' I made it) But tell 'em I'm hood famous (But tell 'em I'm hood famous) The players might change but the game don't stop (Woo) Tryna move some 'caine, get it Range or a drop One more blunt 'cause I'm faded (Blunt 'cause I'm faded) Just for the niggas that hate it (For the niggas that hate it, yeah) ************************************************** Commerical Break (Impractical Jokers ”Torture”)[Sal Vulcano, Joe Gatto & Brian "Q" Quinn] Yeah, torture, mother fuckers Torture, our version-our version of torture That's right I'll fuckin-I'll fuckin' fuck with your credit score and then I-what? No, no Not the credit score That over the top? Too extreme Is that over the top? Yeah I just got outta debt Alright, so you know what then? I fuckin'-I fuckin'-I fuckin' erase shit off your DVR without you even- No! No? Are you serious? We're saving that stuff! Alright, alright, alright What you got? What do you got? Too much! I'll fuckin'-I'll fuckin' log onto your wifi router and change the password No, you can't do that! Listen, that is a privilege, not a right What is wrong with you? You can do that shit, it's too much! Guys-guys, I got it I'll go to your fuckin' house, I will take you I will fuckin' choke the shit out of you 'til you can't breathe anymore and I'll punch you in your fuckin' face 'til you start bleedin' and bleedin' And I'll take that blood and I'll shove it down your fuckin' throat And I'll rip open your asshole and stick my foot all the way up it That's not bad, that's not bad, that's not bad Torture, mother fucker ************************************************** Rain All Day(Verse 1 – Method Man) Hey. I swear I never change If I’m with you in the sunshine, I’m with when it rains I’ll never switch, I’m still the same Get caught up in the mix, I never snitch or give up game I’m no squealer Police be trying to pick the killers brain Not familiar, that’s why some brothers go against the grain I’m La Familia, I’m hands on But that don’t mean the name I’m tryna fill ya My hands strong, i ain’t trying to take your chain I’m trying to kill ya Orangutan, you monkeys tryna Hang like you’re gorillas I give you Wu-Tang slash gilla The object in the mirror, Mac Miller My method is the illest slash illa I’m trying to get the guap, cash scrilla But whitey only see a crack dealer Michael Jack thriller, this is not The Walking Dead Rapper think he’s Chalky White He get the white chalk instead Meth Lab, killing everything that’s in the way Until the son say (Bridge) The Meth Lab dudes don’t play (Verse 2 – Hanz On) Had these dude thinkin’ damn, when it rains, it pours News flash, Meth back, whole Staten with him Couldn’t come to terms, how they playing with this rap Don’t be understanding all the substance that it lacks Gorilla out the traps, bout to flip Ten years gone probably saw him in the flicks Red tails Belly, motherfucker, was the shit Rap coalition, meth lab, get em lit Yo it’s crazy how these nigga’s try and do it like we did it Careful if you copy end up money on your fitted Side line critics Hate the bully with the Wesson’s I swear to god in heaven, don’t get caught without your weapon Caught without your weapons, it get ugly in a second Sidearms hover like we bought ‘em from The Jetson’s Meth lab, vocab, kill ‘em where they lay Got ‘em sittin’ sayin’ (Bridge) The Meth Lab dudes don’t play (Verse 3 – Dro Pesci) I’m used to the rain, I don’t see the sun too much Nocturnal hustler grinding, holding them drugs too much Bench press my pen, on my fresh pad Just left the crack house, I’m headed to Meth’s lab. The tech jab Cowards in their face when they scheming I bet cash Frown up on their face leave ‘em bleeding, who want’s what? That’s my attitude all day, You snooze, you lose, that’s why I’m making moves all day The tool gonna spray I suggest you stay in your lane Staten niggas ain’t playing, you get banged for your chain I bang with a gang, a poppin mind bangin up thangs Accurate aim, well-trained, angle and range Dismantle your frame, microphones blown into the flames Pesci the name, Professional, perfecting the game I’m wrecking these lanes Sharpshooter killing all day Had these haters say (Bridge) The Meth Lab dudes don’t play ************************************************** SI Vs. Everybody[Intro: Apocalipps] Lyrical terrorism Yo, yo, yo, yo [Verse 1: Apocalipps] Me and my niggas, we comtemplate and puff sour How we gon' crash an airplane into the Trump Towers Freedom of speech, go grab your heat, then pump showers Don’t want the money this time because I want the power Fuck tracks, bust nuts through wack condoms Carried the staff for so long, think I got back problems Flow greasy, stack paper so easy This little nigga stay here, open, like Cole Beasley I'm at an all time high, you can't stop the feelin’ If my success make you sick, here's some amoxicillin Six doses, beats is hypnosis Meth Lab is open, bitch, so get focused It's big business, we sellin' them plants And nowadays I got more P's than Kerry Durant And all the smokers called it dope, so we gave it a stamp Dispensaries got stripper poles in case you girls wanna dance One thing you gon' know about Apocalipps (What's that?) Feel I take this whole shit 'cause I’m an optimist You poppin’ shit, then pop a clip, get knocked then lock your lips And if you snitch I'ma hit you in your esophagus So I don’t deal wit'chu Dave and Busters I got an angry little mob that'll smoke all of your dutches Now, keep hatin' thot, eat a sausage Minnesota or Cleveland, I’ma get love regardless And don't nobody get it confused It's Staten Island vs. everybody this time, fool [Chorus: Iron Mic] Yo, we the kings of New York where cash rules (Cash rules) In this game called life, you can't lose (Can't lose) And don't nobody get it confused It's Staten Island vs. everybody this time, fool (What up, what up?) Your better run the receipts, we pay dues (Pay dues) We'll check SI live, we bad news (Bad news) And don't nobody get it confused It's Staten Island vs. everybody this time, fool [Verse 2: Method Man] Yeah, yeah My game patient, it's complicated but so am I Patiently waitin', I Playstation, I'm so NY My foul flavor, one word is blick and I'm fortified Big bully, Michael Jordan wearin' a forty five One in his head, if he ain't dead, he borderline Dope, every rhyme that I say, go 'head and snort a line Sublime, if you didn't know I'm a water sign Whatever floatin' your boat, just know the water mine Stick your toe in, the water's fine, I'm positive And I'm thinkin' positive but I'm thinkin' the problem is (What?) That when I'm thinkin' 'bout opps, I'm thinkin' opposite Plus I still think I'm in my Prime 'cause I'm an Optimus My clan on top of it Gettin' poppin', we poppin' it 'Cause in the spur of the moment wouldn't care, just pop a bitch Meth proposterous S-I, no stoppin' it And once we get the key to the City, boy, we lockin' it [Chorus: Iron Mic] We the kings of New York where cash rules (Cash rules) In this game called life, you can't lose (Can't lose) And don't nobody get it confused It's Staten Island vs. everybody this time, fool (What up, what up?) Your better run the receipts, we pay dues (Pay dues) We'll check SI live, we bad news (Bad news) And don't nobody get it confused It's Staten Island vs. everybody this time, fool [Verse 3: Iron Mic] Yo Don't ever lil' bro me, nigga, I'm big homie On Deck like Inspectah, yup, the weapon on me Do not get confused, we just switched up the hustle Probably took you a minute to get it, all muscle Hit that emoji, these rappers is phoney They'll kill for some of this DNA, but you can't clone me This is God given, hard livin', Mars' vision You new niggas can't really rock to our rhythm Nope, this is massacre music This is Meth Lab, a death jab, let's back into it You tired of the producers dancin' all in the videos (Then what?) Then come to Staten Island you little silly hoes They see me go back, you see Sparks like Omillio Young legend gettin' this young money, a milli, though And I don't throw shots, nigga, I shoot 'em I still white tee, Yankee hat and Timberland boot 'em (Let's go) This is easy work Probably see me in the street promotin' peace, still do you greasy, jerk I been bangin' since Meth was on that stoop with Mary I was loungin' on the low when the hours were scary Everybody was choppin' back and forth 'cross the ferry These bars are one on one, try not to compare me [Interlude] Meth Lab Staten Island vs. Everybody There is no competition [Chorus: Iron Mic] We the kings of New York where cash rules (Cash rules) In this game called life, you can't lose (Can't lose) And don't nobody get it confused It's Staten Island vs. everybody this time, fool (What up, what up?) Your better run the receipts, we pay dues (Pay dues) We'll check S-I live, we bad news (Bad news) And don't nobody get it confused It's Staten Island vs. everybody this time, fool ************************************************** Act Right[Intro] Yeah, that's right everybody get some act right" [Verse 1] Awww shit! Ya know the name Who flip flows like chessboards, there go the games I'm drugs to the brain Even on the 14th of February I ain't got no love for a lame Back doin' my thang, right Livin' the fast life Bitch grab a seat at the bar, get you some act right If that don't do it then rock, lets bring it back like (Damn right everybody get some act right) Ever since I came up, rappers done changed up Put your walking shoes back on and step your game up I'm getting through off the books, rock we banked up Y'all don't think my shit off the hook, then y'all can hang on I'm like a king that's so fresh so clean I leave niggas like black coffee, no cream Come inside the party fuck up the whole scene (That's right everybody get some act right) [Hook] Get up get up, ya know what we came here for What up what up, get your asses out on the floor Come on come on, I've been away for far too long Guess who's back and far too strong for ya niggas (now) We feelin' good tonight, we hittin' 'dro like We gettin money and gettin' honeys that flow like My mic, my clothes, my life, my dough (That's right everybody get some act right) [Verse 2] Ya damned if you do, ya damned if you don't Step inside my Range and get blammed if you want My Clan in the joint, man we got it locked Like whatever niggas got in the bank, I got it stopped Y'all already know of my strength already growin' In this game many may come but few are chosen I don't usually do this, but keep the party going like (Damn right everybody get some act right) I get tips from B.I.G. and Pac when they blastin' the heat If you's a rapper, don't ever ride the passenger seat One to grow on When up shit's creek, you get your roll on Boy I never stop, I go on, so on and so on Rappers can't fuck with me My career's like somebody put glue in your chair and now you're stuck with me I don't use pick up lines, I guess I'm just picky (That's right everybody get some act right) [Hook] [Verse 3] Extra, extra read all about it Who shits they grounded, flies all around it My trees don't doubt it, they green as a salad All American Express I never leave home without it I'll never go pop, Meth Man I'm bout it Whenever I rock, the jam's over crowded I'm never gonna stop, the fans won't allow it (Damn right everybody get some act right) Yo, get it you got it, if you got it then good (There's a lot of rappers rappin' but not a lot of 'em could) I'm that boy in the hood that told Red Riding Hood There ain't nothin' but wars in my neck of the woods So! Who's ready for MC Whoa What's beef? Beef is what I got teeth for I eat up everything on my plate then eat yours like (That's right everybody get some act right) [Hook] [Outro] Stand up! Staten Island, Lond Island get some act right Every borough, New Jersey get some act right Each state, west coast, east coast, dirty south, midwest get some act right If it ain't well, it ain't right If it ain't Meth, it ain't tight So on that note like this, everybody get some act right ************************************************** Ronins[Intro] Come on Ch'yeah Meth, where you at? [Verse 1: Method Man] My flow? Everlastin' My lines? Never lackin' Even on Christmas Eve, I out rhyme whoever rappin' Slime, shoulda tapped in (Uh) But he blind to the facts and, um Whut? Thee Album, track one "Time 4 Sum Aksion" (Haa) Past time for the last time I rhymed in this fashion True Religion, he never thought he'd die in his fashion But I got time today, if you dyin' then ask him (Uh huh) Bars, forensic science, that's if you tryna catch 'em Lord, I think I'm over it, I ain't over here actin' I say it over and over, I ain't overreactin' (Woo) What you picture is death, I'm just closin' the caption Who knows if I'ma blow, I just got my nose in a napkin (Choo) Super Saiyan, technically, I'm electrifyin' To be specific, what I specifically specifyin' See that's progression and I'm especially rectifyin' Any confessions, I don't expect to be testifyin' [Verse 2: Cappadonna] So pure now, killa, ain't nothin' gon' move Meth Lab's back (We're back!), pardon the goons Back in the kitchen with it smellin' of fumes (Smell it!) Charged water, hard crack wit' a spoon Staten Island, straight up, fuck the platoons (Fuck 'em!) Heard the meth heads callin' you Meanwhile it's mumble rappers soundin' kinda foreign (Soundin' foreign!) Find 'em pressed with Molly, tourin' The man deplorin', nah, we never go live We either gettin' live, edit that (Edit that!) Protectin' our guys, get it? Y'all talk about it while we live it Y'all live stream and think you litted Ain't seen a face to face in a minute (Nope) Call 'em exquisite, come and crumble your waves I got that lithium for days Homie, sharpenin' blades, yuh It's Mr. Parker, he get sharper wit' age Be at your door with the beard, I ain't talkin' no raids, fuckers Black mufflers got the cowards afraid We make the situation grave We'll better dismantle your trades, nigga [Verse 3: Masta Killa] This is no glove hittin' the bar, bill open hand, callous slap Rough, ashy knuckles spark, split your face rap The quick loose your tooth jab, the fifty two clap A hunnid rounds backin' 'em down, the house trapped (Uh) We still keep a bat in the back, the the bone crack (Uh) Still spittin' actual facts for bank stacks Cue ball in the sock from the pool rack, snap his neck back Every time I think I'm out, I get pulled back It's like I relapse and catch a flashback I took the contract to kill an emcee (Uh) so masterfully So who better than me since '93 Get you tied to a tree as a target if you wanna be [Verse 4: Hanz On] Yo, I'm a old young nigga (Uh huh), I do it for sure (What?) White Filas, white fitted cherry velour (Uh) I keep hunnies on my side like Al B. Sure (Come on) I throw my chain in the crowd when you see me on tour (Yeah) I'm at The Meth Lab re'in-up, I'm ready to score (Get it) Hanz On, Methical, Cappadonna, it's hardcore (Huh) This ain't a gang sign, naw, homie, it's war (Yeah) Fatigue Timberlands on, camouflage door Sniper team on deck, enemies abort (B-r-r-r-ap) Staten Island, New York Homicide Hillary (Uh huh) The Black X six, heavy artillery (Soo) I'm laughin' at y'all, you rappers is killin' me Pop your wardrobe (Uh), yeah, I do it for love In my block, homie, yeah (What?), they do it for slugs Smacks hands with the homeboy, show that thug (Come on) And never pop nothin' if you can't look 'em in the mug (Homicide) ************************************************** Who Ya Rollin Wit[Intro: Method Man] Uh... what's really good? Yo, yo, yo.. [Method Man] It's the unstoppable, over come any obstacle Ya'll know my flavor, pack more punch than Tropical Any mission possible, do what I gots to do Labels gettin' butterfingers, and next they droppin' you You think you know, but you have no idea The Diary of a Meth Man, what's this I hear? Somebody told ya'll, steppin' in shit was good luck? I got the hood stuck, chh-chh, now give the goods up Ya'll done pushed up, past the point of no return It's Meth's turn, so roll that shit up and let's burn I heard Philly got the best 'scherm, out in Cali, they got the best perms Now that we know, when will the rest learn? Come on, each one, teach one, hear no evil, and I don't speak none Everything cool until that heat come Just call my name, and I'll be there Ya'll kids is slum, like the jewelry in Albi Square [Hook: Streetlife (Shawnna)] We drinkin' Henny til we flip, poppin' bottles til we sick All ya'll haters eat a dick (yeah, uh) Let's throw a party in this bitch, all my niggas and my chicks Tell me who ya'll rollin' with (yeah) [Hook 2X: Streetlife (Method Man)] Method spits fire (Fire!) The roof's on (Fire!) My crew's on (Fire!) [Streetlife] M-E-T, H-O-D.. [Method Man] Man, I'm in the house like foreclosures Talk sober, until some dog gets forced over New York soldiers, be at ease, fall back Never ever, I'm the New Era, like ball caps Kid, whenever, whoever, whatever, ya'll want it Ya'll can have it, the problem and answer, I'm all that While we at it, let's tighten up our grips around that cabbage Silly rabbit, how many kid's done tricked you on your carrots The product of a bad package, like Bishop Don Juan it's Magic How I break 'em like a bad habit, hit tracks like it's target practice Then let these darts take a stab at it Niggas ain't got it, ain't never had it I jam like L.A. traffic, Jellyroll behind the wheel And the passenger seat behind the field It's your boy, physically fit, mentally sick Get dirty money, told you honey, I'm filthy rich [Hook] [Hook 2X w/o "fire" the second time] [Interlude: Method Man] Yeah, ya'll niggas don't know it's a game Until it starts again, let's do it, haha! [Method Man] Six minutes, Method Man, you're on If you thinkin' you gon' slip and be alright, you're wrong You can see me lightin' the bong, while writin' the songs That the crowd, is either singin' to or fightin' along, fightin' along I'm try'nna tell you drugs is not your friends And girlfriend, don't try and front like you got your friend I'm at the hotel, motel, Holiday Inn And my chick's a man-eater, she be swallowin' men Aight, live from New York, it's Saturday night I got pipes that drain your confidence, and battery light Aight, mami tight, but she ain't really my type If ya'll don't see me treat her right, then she ain't really my wife When I was young, I was stayin' in school, obeyin' rules Play with my food, what makes you think I'm playin' with you? This is it, ya'll better come on in, the water's fine Jump on in, let's do it to 'em one more 'gain [Hook] [Hook 2X] [Hook] [Outro: Method Man] Yeah, Ladies Love Big John Studd No doubt, dick up in your mouth We do this shit everyday, I'm in the cut With my main shit stain, Ray-Ray Gutter Butt And we holdin' it down for the whole Staten Island, man Nothin' else but Staten Island, man Ya'll stand up, man, Stapleton, the Wild West, Park Hill Port Richmond, Now Born, Jungle Nilz, hah... Peace! ************************************************** Soundcheck(Intro - Hanz On) One more time, not again Do it again. Hanz On music. check check code red (Verse 1 - Method Man) Mr. Meth check check House gang check check Players get ejected out, the game that’s a tec tec Mayweather fight night homie, I’m still you best bet I’m like the homie 2 chains on’me Protect your neck, neck Opposites attract, I got you standing opposite, the mack Cops pursuing, now I am swallowing the crack This ain’t your role model on the track, simple fact This is call of duty, watch my gun nozzle through the map map It’s all about survival where we at That’s the reason why my father kept the rifle plus a bible on his lap Hallelujah, I am playing my position, karma sutra And anybody play me out position ima shoot ya (Chorus - Hanz On) Yo it’s mic check, check Get the Henny bottles check check Lock load, bout to body niggas holla check check Hanz On, is he up & ready, holla check check Big fisk trigger finger steady, holla check check Streetlife, is he bout that feddy holla check check Meth man, is he rollin heavy holla check check Hanz On music, i you with us, holla check check Hanz up, if you bout that dollar, holla check check (Verse 2 - Carlton Fisk) Take it back to Gucci mocks, polo rugby Glocks With 21 shots, I am very dirty money Carlo consigliere, an I’ma cross the Verazzano Where they made a lucky man out of Charlie Luciano I cut from a different material I scratch off the serial numbers, for its time to get rid of you Revenge of Big Den, cocksucker, check check Aim for the face, but his neck next Promises promises, well baby boy, this is not a death threat Organized crime is back with black suits on You know that its on, when i hashtag Hannibal voice (get your boots on) (Chorus - Hanz On) Yo it’s mic check, check Get the Henny bottles check check Lock load, bout to body niggas holla check check Hanz On, is he up & ready, holla check check Big fisk trigger finger steady, holla check check Streetlife, is he bout that feddy holla check check Meth man, is he rollin heavy holla check check Hanz On music, i you with us, holla check check Hanz up, if you bout that dollar, holla check check ************************************************** So Staten(Verse 1 - Method Man) Yo, I’ve been Staten Island since ’85 My thing was rapping, ain’t get a package ’til ’89 That trick jacket, that bomber cracking that baby 9 That drug traffic, sell to your mama and maybe mine I’m so Staten, no need to smack em, no need to shine You and them divas is margaritas You need the lime Follow the leaders, Optimus Prime, follow the heater This just in, I’m a little twisted, you non-believers Richmond county, we get it lit The tooly just a part of the movie, you get a clip It ain’t all Gucci, Louis Vuitton, I’m Louis the fifth That’s a V, if this was Sesame street, V is for Vic I mean victim, stick him, ha ha ha stick him Resisting, I’ll get ya the 16 I’m spittin’ My borough different cause we thorough, efficient Donald Sterling on clipping, I’ll rock your world in addition (Chorus – Hue Hef) I’m so Staten Island You already know how we bang I’m so Staten Island Niggas don’t wanna fuck with my gang Cause my niggas riding and your niggas hiding Everybody talking, I’m stepping with the iron That nigga faded, when I start firing Everybody running, welcome to the island I’m from SI (Verse 2 - Hanz On) Walk light dead wrong when you cross that bridge I got the park hill shooters, barracudas, you dig? Bout 100 on ya fitted, Staten Island, we back I said we back for this music and the mission is rap Coalitions, yo they technicians, hammers is locked Yo they loaded when they fire, you can hear it for blocks Hands on nothing pretty, yo my city be New Yiddy We are from crack sales, dumb travel with them semi’s Got the coke cooking stashes in the ceiling In fact, see if it’s wires on em so that all these killers relax Don’t move, hypothetically you better not blink Meth Lab, Staten Island, fuck with all of y’all day (Chorus – Hue Hef) I’m so Staten Island You already know how we bang I’m so Staten Island Niggas don’t wanna fuck with my gang Cause my niggas riding and your niggas hiding Everybody talking, I’m stepping with the iron That nigga faded, when I start firing Everybody running, welcome to the island I’m from SI (Verse 3 - Hue Hef) I wish you niggas tried to play the god You gon’ fuck around and be my latest charge Roll up and I smoke you just like an entourage And you already know how I do it, I’m going twice as hard I’m cooking up in that meth lab Ready for distribution, it’s in the bag My niggas different, we got hella swag Trend setters made vendettas, ya hatin’ ass I’m feeling like Meth in nine 2 His single bout to drop and I’m the livest in the crew Hollywood from that 1-6-Ooh And I’m going to the top with my dudes Give a fuck if them niggas hatin', i’ll handle that situation I’ll pick it up on my waist and i’ll blam at them niggas faces Feeling like Tigger, end your career in that basement Niggas moving fouler than a flagrant (Chorus – Hue Hef) I’m so Staten Island You already know how we bang I’m so Staten Island Niggas don’t wanna fuck with my gang Cause my niggas riding and your niggas hiding Everybody talking, I’m stepping with the iron That nigga faded, when I start firing Everybody running, welcome to the island I’m from SI ************************************************** Intro (Tical 0)[RZA] Tical: The Prequel What up, yo, this is the RZA AKA Ruler Zig-Zag-Zig Allah I wanna welcome ya'll to the Tical: The Prequel Starring Wu-Tang Brother #1, the M-E-T-H-O-D Man AKA Johnny Blaze, AKA Hot Nix, the Iron Lung Big John Studd, Johnny Storm, check it out, yo My brother Meth bout to take ya'll on some new And unexplored chambers of the Wu-Tang universe So I want all my nizzes, and all my wizzes To get a big bag of rizzes and greeneries and blizzes And sit back and Johnny Blaze take you on a ride to the other side Peace to the Wu-Tang family, ten years strong Forty million albums sold, platinum and gold And the sage continues... Yo, pass that blunt homey, let's fuck these niggas up real quick [Method Man] Aight... let's do it... ************************************************** Lithium[Intro: Sheek Louch] Yeah, I'ma sit back and smoke this mother fuckin’ bush You thought it was over? It's your boy Sheek Louch It's the Lithium, mother fucker Meth Lab 2 [Verse 1: Method Man] Look who comin’ back up from the slums Took a scene from Whiplash, hit you actors with the drum Ain't no actin' where I'm from, nah I'm in Staten, get it done I used to be a student, wasn't really into schoolin', I was truant from the jump Kept it movin' with the Knicks, Patrick Ewing with the dunk Beat bump, soundin’ like a body movin’ in the trunk Pump shotty, got everybody movin' when it dump Side note, if you a boss, then you movin’ where you want I got high hopes, if you ever saw when I was broke In the game since a kid, they never saw me as a G.O.A.T Yet, I'm scorin' and feelin' like I’m Jordan in the post Doctor J cool but now I like the coroner the most Hanz and Sheek Louch, damn, they bar'ing the flow Who am I to knock they hustle like a warrant at the door? Life funny, I'm feelin' like I'm Martin off the show I'm just tryna get this money, buy the Foreign off the show [Verse 2: Hanz On] It go to puma layin' hammers, cabinets finish the job Big Barker, he involved, Doctor paint a collage Still a student tryna shoot for the stars Still improvin', tryna rape all the odds Rap architecure, nice with the bars Meth Lab 2, call it the deuce And when you talk about it later, better call it the truth The analytics, paramedics, pullin' up at the booth I heard them engineers, pioneers, put series on loop I guess them niggas didn't get it 'til proof How them killas'll move That's how them gangstas get they money, recoup The psychedelic relics dyin' to shoot And, yo, I'm built for the Borough It doesn't matter who came wit'chu at all And, yo, them corny niggas destined to fall Hey, yo, they down to dilute I'm from the Staten, Hanzarelli the Brute And, yo, the boogie barker, same wave just a different saga It's lookin' easy 'cause these cats is trakka And, yo, when is all these rappers gon' learn hard work, far as music concerned, trumps talent Yo, a point of return Yo, bet your money, yo, I double the bank And, yo, whoever lose could pay for the stank Mother fucka! [Break: Sheek Louch] D-Block! Hey yo, Meth, what up? Meth Lab 2, huh? It's ya boy Sheek Louch Hey, yo, I got 'em Hey, yo, yo [Verse 3 : Sheek Louch] We used to shop our demo so you could listen to our story Now I'm gettin' millions, I'm another category Hard nigga, bitch, I'm like Denzel in Glory Young, Red Navigator, bumpin' that nigga N.O.R.E Had that Clan shit on Hopin' you left space on the track "Protect Ya Neck" so LOX could spit on Meth Lab and too high so I'm Uber, cabbin' I don't Dougie, I don't Kwon, I ain't fuckin' Dabbin' Big weapons, dashiki, I'm Arabin' The drama I bring Little shooters under my wing I started young, I was a mixtape king Now my legacy is Ronald Reagan, Aston Martin Gun on my hip, the passenger bitch kinda resemble Megan (Which one?) Megan Good, Megan Fox Any state, any jail, or group home mother fuckers gon' rep The Lox Extended clip, don't get put in that box Bitch [Outro: Sheek Louch] 2, 2, 2 You see-you see-you see why this forever will be locked up in the end ************************************************** Boom “PLL Anthem”[Intro] [Verse] Boy, ain't no steppin' on my feet When I'm shootin' for my goal, ain't no steppin' in the crease I'm guessin' nobody told you I'm a legend in these streets Won't stand for no disrespectin', body check 'em when we meet My [?] take their face off, my city never sleeps Cross sticks on my uni, lookin' pretty with my cleats Clash of the titans, y'all just fightin' to compete With the hand that rocks the cradle like Paul Rabil the beast I'm a gladiator, no denyin' I'm elite Don't mean to step on your toes, but I ain't tryin' to see defeat If this a cold world I'ma keep applyin' the heat With the testicular fortitude fortifyin' my fleet I carry a big stick, I'm pickin' my shot You think I'm tacky, I'm thinkin' "should I stick 'em or not?" Call a tech, the ref trippin', it's fittin' to be hot I'm a menace, too many minutes in the penalty box [Hook] We hit the bills like (Boom) All day like (Boom) All night like (Boom) Every fight like (Boom) Offense like (Boom) Defense like (Boom) All squad like (Boom) We hittin' yard like (Boom) What it sound like? (Boom) What it sound like? (Boom) What it sound like? (Boom) What it sound like? (Boom) What it sound like? (Boom) What it sound like? (Boom) What it sound like? (Boom) (Boom, boom, boom) ************************************************** What You Getting Into(Chorus – Method Man & Donny Cacsh) What you getting into, I ain’t doing nothing Same old shit, making money, niggas frontin What you getting into, I ain’t doing nothing About to cop a bag, get a dutch, and fuck something What you getting into, I ain’t doing nothing Same old shit, making money, niggas frontin What you getting into, I ain’t doing nothing About to cop a bag, get a dutch, and fuck something This is what I’m into (Verse 1 – Streetlife) Strollin to the building, collect the money, than tell shorty get the rental We going cross the bridge, we heading up town Cop a couple hundred grams, bring it back make it triple Stop at the smoke shop, cop them double zero bags Yeah we got big rocks, those up the block, niggas mad, call up bullet man I need some more shells, I heard you got the ap9, out the box for sale (Chorus – Method Man & Donny Cacsh) What you getting into, I ain’t doing nothing Same old shit, making money, niggas frontin What you getting into, I ain’t doing nothing About to cop a bag, get a dutch, and fuck something What you getting into, I ain’t doing nothing Same old shit, making money, niggas frontin What you getting into, I ain’t doing nothing About to cop a bag, get a dutch, and fuck something This is what I’m into (Verse 2 - Donny Cacsh) I wake and I’m high, I be sleeping on the clouds, like I wake up in the sky I roll up another one and then I’m getting fly Then I load up a couple guns, because it’s time to ride See the money’s what I’m into, ima keep it simple It I ain't getting guap, that shit is poppin like a pimple Holy as a temple, hair pin trigger so gentle, can't print you Only way to ID you is through your dental (Chorus – Method Man & Donny Cacsh) What you getting into, I ain’t doing nothing Same old shit, making money, niggas frontin What you getting into, I ain’t doing nothing About to cop a bag, get a dutch, and fuck something What you getting into, I ain’t doing nothing Same old shit, making money, niggas frontin What you getting into, I ain’t doing nothing About to cop a bag, get a dutch, and fuck something This is what I’m into (Verse 3 - Method Man) I’m all about this caper, in the group with 9 members I ain’t trying to split this paper, but that’s another issue I ain’t rappin with you haters, send you back to meet your maker And I bet nobody missed you The island be official, without the striped jersey and the whistle Put the pistol to you dog, Michael Vick you Method I’m the Shih Tzu, It only take a word for me to sic you I mean get you and them goons are going with you (Chorus – Method Man & Donny Cacsh) What you getting into, I ain’t doing nothing Same old shit, making money, niggas frontin What you getting into, I ain’t doing nothing About to cop a bag, get a dutch, and fuck something What you getting into, I ain’t doing nothing Same old shit, making money, niggas frontin What you getting into, I ain’t doing nothing About to cop a bag, get a dutch, and fuck something This is what I’m into ************************************************** Off The Wu-Headbanger[Intro: Method Man] I would kill some fucking body The mad stola, the mad stola (Who? Russel who?) Ha ha, nah let me stop Word up this is a Def Jam production (Sandman) Featuring, Johnny Blaze word up Another Sandman joint, dirtman on the track Flip the script, script the flip Check the steez (believe that) Check it out now, check it check it out [Verse 1: Method Man] I get drunk off of cheap wine and hold frontline Niggas wanna front, fine, fuck with me and mine Rain on your sunshine Swine niggas come as hard as a pork rind Can you dig it, only five percent live it While the rest of you fake niggas try to get it Peep the Stallion, half of y'all need to quit it Frontin' hard and be soft as a cotton knitted No balls at all, if you do son then get with it Razor sharp in my jaw bone I might spit I'm dealin with it on a everyday basis Roam where it get cold at and stack glaciers In the zone it's Tical once again stoned Throw your hands in the air and puff a Meth bone Did you ever get the feeling for that phat shit? Something different from that R&B and rap shit? Well here it come, from the gums of the one, I amaze 'em Fire in the sky, peep me now, Johnny Blaze 'em, check it My mind's on the rhyme, ain't a damn thing funny Gettin' money, Blaze represent, kills the fraudulent Fucker giving me the grill Nowadays everybody trying to keep it real 4th Disciple, hit me with that 30/30 rifle Beats from the streets mega-trifle Rap gymnastics, flipping from the cradle to the casket Take another pull, fantastic It's the Method not the Plastic, Man Coming down like hourglass sand, check the tactic Flow P.L.O., P.L.O. now you know The ultimate and rhyme legitting Peep the counterfeitten or get snake bitten Filled up with deadly venom, Johnny Blaze get up in 'em Play 'em out like Lee denim, can you dig it Can a brother eat, can I live it Gets no deeper, whoever slipping get the sleeper Hold, faces of death, bodies cold On some Evil Dead part 2, swallow your soul Yeah, and it don't stop The body body body body rock, yeah Hip hop, we sat out in the dark (in the dark) We used to do it out in the park (Where that?) Hill Avenue, ain't a damn thing new Stay true to my Clan, I'm a family man Loyalty brought me royalties To the Gods I give my heart and soul totally It's a bond can't be broken, that's my life I'mma die if I think twice, I'm not jokin To the essence if I'm half stepping Politician use the system, as lethal weapons When we slip up, lethal injection Hah, everyday life's a lesson I take my spot in the lower class section [Outro: Method Man] Johnny Blaze, 9-5 to the 9-6 Word up, keep it moving ************************************************** Big Sky[Hook: Hanz On] * 2 Ayo I'm done committing crimes homey (I'm a star) All I wanna do is shine homey (from afar) Get this money till we tired homey (picture that) I'll retire when we tired homey (bring it back) [Verse: Method Man] Uh What I write, fatality type I keep it real but ya'll still reality bites Go ahead and call it what ya'll like Just get my salary right I could tell em their paper thin but that would be lie Tell a Judas to never cross me coz that would be Christ We bout gettin millions with ice, yep that would be nice I ain't picturing peas with rice, what you see is the price Word to S.P. with rights and a gangsta's lean That's promethazine and Sprite Go and live a day in the life Lose your life for you ends You could spend a day if you like That's a privilege, you see it like everyday if you white Smoke trees like all I need is mary j. in a life Boy please, pardon me it's like a fart in the breeze That's a benchmark, some players will never start in the league Look at me, real MC gotta start and appease Plus my maroon fives make it harder to breathe Big Sky [Hook: Hanz On] * 2 Ayo I'm done committing crimes homey (I'm a star) All I wanna do is shine homey (from afar) Get this money till we tired homey (picture that) I'll retire when we tired homey (bring it back) ************************************************** Another Winter(Intro) Quick to pop off let a couple shots off Leave ‘em bleeding out with his shoes & his socks off (Verse 1 – Streetlife) War dancing. I ain’t trying to make it rain though You slow gassing. I’ll leave you brain on your Durango First classmen, old school with the Kangol Thug passion, that pussy juice like a mango Hulk smashing, make it jump like everlasting God body Ramadan, 30 day fasting Six two brown skin fellow with the Caesar fade 360 waves, side burns with a little graze I remain relevant; I’m a raw element High street intelligent. Product of my tenement Son of Anarchy, smoking that Bob Marley La la la be killing these niggas slowly Wake up, smell the coffee, sleep on the street is costly Pay attention to the warning signs, don’t cross me Give ‘em hypertention. That niggas is getting salty I’m quick to pop off back the fuck up off me (Chorus - Carlton Fisk) Carlton Fisk banana clip silver back gorilla Mr. Streetlife show you what that heat like (Chorus - Hanz On) Hanz on yo we handle them Berettas PLO Yo its forever, bout to show em what it be’s like (Chorus - Method Man) Method man, turn a dollar to a million Killa bees we in the building Making sure the children eat right eat right In the building make sure the babies eat right (Chorus - Hanz On) In the building make sure the babies eat right (Verse 2 - Carlton Fisk) Black scenery white chalk yellow tape Carlo got a bullet proof wallet, bitch in every state Light that smoke that animals ferocious Dealing with the boss mentality really focus Tailor made linen & loafers, louie emblems Problems on the street my lieutenant quickly attending them Carlito ways, brown bag money In the book of life you can’t get stuck to one page All in together now, chinchilla bullet proof Hoodies for any sign of winter war weather And daddy gonna get that cash so clever And Meth push the button my hands all on the trigger And they thought I rot in jail, like go figure If I laid down dead in the street you going too nigga And this is raw kicking out your door start to scream out loud Carlton Fisk back for more (Chorus - Carlton Fisk) Carlton Fisk banana clip silver back gorilla Mr. Streetlife show you what that heat like (Chorus - Hanz On) Hanz on yo we handle them Berettas PLO Yo its forever, bout to show em what it be’s like (Chorus - Method Man) Method man, turn a dollar to a million Killa bees we in the building Making sure the children eat right eat right (Chorus - Hanz On) In the building make sure the babies eat right (Verse 3 - Method Man) Now whoever read me wrong, can start by reading my palm Make me catch a flashback of my father beating my mom Kiss the ring, (hashtag) ain’t easy being a don So I gotta carry the heat, ain't easy being LeBron This is past rap, but I ain’t pass the baton Tell them rappers bypass it or get to passing it on I won’t take it passed that, even if I pass it I’m gone Better yet, scratch that, ya’ll don’t get a pass then it’s on We Hanz On, everybody watchin the Don Got their eyes on the kid when they should be watchin their own Telling lies on the kid, they said he’s not in a zone Said he never reach the top, but that ain’t stop him from going They already on, so hungry his ribs are showin The money is getting low, the bum niggas is on 55 Bowen These hungry adolescents is grown When they get the Smith & Wesson they adolescence is gone (Chorus - Carlton Fisk) Carlton Fisk banana clip silver back gorilla Mr. Streetlife show you what that heat like (Chorus - Hanz On) Hanz on yo we handle them Berettas PLO Yo its forever, bout to show em what it be’s like (Chorus - Method Man) Method man, turn a dollar to a million Killa bees we in the building Making sure the children eat right eat right In the building make sure the babies eat right (Chorus - Hanz On) In the building make sure the babies eat right ************************************************** Blackout![Redman] Yo yo yo yo.. it's Funk Doc, where the weed at, bitch? I speed backwards down a one-way from cops - see that shit? Believe that shit - slaughter, straight to camcorder I'm "Too Hot for TV," rap draw water My windpipe's attached to project ballers You yell: "Turn the heat down!" My voice, DVD 'round sound, so I'm heard round town And chances of y'all leavin? 'round now! Wait later, will make front page paper Date raper; with juvenile eighth graders Hit the high school and 187 Caesar When I bust y'all need to back fo' acres Doc y'all, and that's my man Jabberjaw The shitlist ready, who next to scratch off? I'm from the underground, my sound lift Platform shoes to bitches, fo'-hundred pounds! Chorus: Method Man + Redman GET UP, STAND UP, BACK UP, PUSH UP JUMP UP, ACT UP - TO MAKE Y'ALL FEEL IT! Brrrrr... STICK 'EM, HA-HA-HA STICK 'EM Brrrrr... STICK 'EM, HA-HA-HA STICK 'EM Yo' BLACKOUT, SHOOT OUT, SMOKED OUT, MOVE OUT EVEN KNOCK YOUR TOOTH OUT, TO MAKE Y'ALL FEEL IT! Brrrrr... STICK 'EM, HA-HA-HA STICK 'EM Brrrrr... STICK 'EM, HA-HA-HA STICK 'EM [Method Man] And I'm the street-talkin.. dog-walkin.. Approach me with extreme caution -- oh now you forcin My +Hand+ to +Rock Yo' Cradle+ often, I'm hot-scorchin But 'Stone Cold' like Steve Austin If you smell what Tical cookin Ain't tryin to see central bookin So tell ya goon stop lookin "Know What You Did Last Summer," so I started hookin You past shooken off an open can of ass-whoopin Ain't no tomorrow's in the Method's "Little Shop of Horrors" Go ask your father who the father from the hill to harbor You know tha saga, marijuana blunts and Goldschlager With deadly medley, y'all ain't ready for Shakwon and Reggie Don't even bother, the radio for back-up - alright then Your man got slapped up, extorted for his ice an' Street life is triflin "Body over here!!" Don't make me pull a Tyson and bite a nigga ear Precise an', slicin jugulars, the cut-throat Ruggeder, predator, Viking, et cetera People's Champ, niggas be takin on competitors Reachin for the microphone, relax and light a bone Straight from the catacomb, the +Children of the Corn+ That don't got a +CLUE+.. prepare for "Desert Storm" Chorus: Method Man + Redman GET UP, STAND UP, BACK UP, PUSH UP JUMP UP, ACT UP - TO MAKE Y'ALL FEEL IT! Brrrrr... STICK 'EM, HA-HA-HA STICK 'EM Brrrrr... STICK 'EM, HA-HA-HA STICK 'EM Yo' BLACKOUT, SHOOT OUT, SMOKED OUT, MOVE OUT EVEN KNOCK YOUR TOOTH OUT, TO MAKE Y'ALL FEEL IT! Brrrrr... STICK 'EM, HA-HA-HA STICK 'EM Brrrrr... STICK 'EM, HA-HA-HA STICK 'EM [Redman] I scored 1.1 on my SAT And still push a whip with a right and left AC Gorilla, Big Dog, if my name get called I'm behind the brick wall with arsenic jaws Spit poison, got a gun permit draw Gun down at sundown - you keep score! This trainin course and y'all ain't fit On my crew tombstone put, "We all ain't shit!" [Method Man] Yo, all you gonnabe, wannabe, when will you learn? Wanna be Doc and Meth? Gotta wait your turn I spit a .41 revolver on New Year's Eve With the mic in my hand I mutilate MC's The most slept on since Rip Van Wink' My shit stink with every element from A to Z, so what you think? I'ma blackout on just one drink? You must be crazy! A little off the wall maybe - go get a shrink! Chorus: Method Man + Redman GET UP, STAND UP, BACK UP, PUSH UP JUMP UP, ACT UP - TO MAKE Y'ALL FEEL IT! Brrrrr... STICK 'EM, HA-HA-HA STICK 'EM Brrrrr... STICK 'EM, HA-HA-HA STICK 'EM Yo' BLACKOUT, SHOOT OUT, SMOKED OUT, MOVE OUT EVEN KNOCK YOUR TOOTH OUT, TO MAKE Y'ALL FEEL IT! Brrrrr... STICK 'EM, HA-HA-HA STICK 'EM Brrrrr... STICK 'EM, HA-HA-HA STICK 'EM ************************************************** Party & Bullshit(Funky! Stand off..) [Method Man] Oh shit, 3-2-1, blown to bits Step inside the nightclub like I own the bitch Southpaw two left feet set to trip On that bullshit, back it up with extra clip Man listen, pissin in the same pot I'm pissin You're goin down, get in that plane crash position Turbulence ahead, boy you must be sick in the head Go get Excederin, or get intelligent Recognize a veteran, player stay wetter than The thug type, up mo' late nights than Letterman Ask Teddy, Wreckx-n-Effect I'm ready The same way I was in that bar scene in "Belly" (Say what?) I freak the flow that let you know I'm a flower Yo' ass is grass and I'm a lawn mower So uhh, go ahead pass the doja It's the return of Tical, party over [Hook: Meth & T.R.] Y'all niggas wanna get down? (fuck with me) Y'all still wanna be round? (fuck with me) Y'all really want the street now? (fuck with me) Y'all niggas gon' see now (party and bullshit) Y'all niggas wanna get down? (fuck with me) Y'all still wanna be round? (fuck with me) Y'all really want the streets now? (fuck with me) Y'all niggas gon' see now (fuck with..) [T.R.] You chicks, bounce to the music Shake that ass like you bout to use it Wanna fuck with a baller? You choose Wanna fuck with a scrub? You lose Fuck that, let's keep it movin Talk about how this beat got you groovin Nod your head, make you shake your dreads Bass travel down the spine, get stuck in your legs Dance 'til you rip the soles off your Timbs Shit - knock the chrome straight off your rims Hit - after hit, well get who you wanna get Ain't nobody really fuckin with us Haters try to tell me I'mma suffer for this Hatin on me cause I mastered this You asked for this, come here and get a glass of this .. party and bullshit [Hook: T.R.] Y'all niggas wanna get down? (fuck with me) Y'all still wanna be round? (fuck with me) Y'all really want the street now? (fuck with me) Y'all niggas gon' see now (party and bullshit) Y'all niggas wanna get down? (fuck with me) Y'all still wanna be round? (fuck with me) You really want the street now? (fuck with me) Y'all niggas gonna see now (party and bullshit) [Method Man] Yo, the whole base of this is party and bullshit Y'all lil' cats, we ain't on no cool shit Y'all lil' dogs better learn some new tricks And you video directors better find some new chicks Watch this, man I got this, Hot Nikks Mean gob spit when I talk wear galoshes Wu-Tang Clan in the house and ain't leavin How my Killer Bee clique feel this evening? Meth; guerilla serial killer for scrilla See the God run through your block like Godzilla Menage-a-tois for these french vanillas, I'm iller Hard as armadillo and coat made of chinchilla New stuff, bang this, bust this, bruise this And ballers ain't fuckin with Staten Isle, New York What? Still in the game, platinum plus Y'all might fuck with them, but y'all can't fuck with us [Hook: Meth & T.R.] Y'all niggas wanna get down? (fuck with me) Y'all still wanna be round? (fuck with me) Y'all really want the street now? (fuck with me) Y'all niggas gon' see now (party and bullshit) Y'all niggas wanna get down? (fuck with me) Y'all still wanna be round? (fuck with me) Y'all really want the streets now? (fuck with me) Y'all niggas gon' see now.. [Meth] Yo T.R., what's that shit you on? (party and bullshit) [T.R.] I'm not even serious, I'm doin this for fun, cause I (party and bullshit) [Meth] Yo T.R., what's that shit you on? (party and bullshit) [T.R.] I'm not even serious, I'm doin this for fun, cause I (party and bullshit) [Meth] Yo T.R., what's that shit you on? (party and bullshit) [T.R.] I'm not even serious, I'm doin this for fun, cause I (party and bullshit) [Meth] Yo T.R., what's that shit you on? (party and bullshit) [T.R.] I'm not even serious, I'm doin this for fun, cause I (party and bullshit) - what? ************************************************** O.D.[Intro: Kwamé] Mayday, mayday, I need you to turn this thing up Turn-turn-turn this thing up, and make noise Mr. Mef, Mr. Mef, Kwamé, Kwamé Let's go, let's go What we about to do right now is [Chorus: Kwamé & Method Man] OD on 'em, OD on 'em, OD on 'em Time to lose it, y'all, and do it to the music, just OD on 'em, OD on 'em, OD on 'em Ain't nothin' to it if you put your back into it and OD on 'em, OD on 'em, OD on 'em I'll walk you through it, let you know just how to do it The M-E-T-H, yes, I OD it Get you high like I'm light to the day, I OD [Verse 1: Method Man] Okay, let's get it on (Who wanna get it on?) Let it pop like Perignon (Who wanna get it on?) Hit right, don't get wrong, got it, now get gone Any dog tryin' to shit on my lawn get shit upon Can you smell the herb smoke in my clothes? I'm a jerk and it shows Chicks be dancin' like they workin' the pole Back to Meth, man, I'm hurtin' 'em, though Fuck a knock, I burst in the door You want it? I'm the person to know Let muthafuckas take it personal 'Cause half this industry suck dick or hope to be the first to blow Man, I'm witty, unpredictable - on any track I rule It don't take much for me to act a fool and just [Chorus: Kwamé & Method Man] OD on 'em, OD on 'em, OD on 'em Time to lose it, y'all, and do it to the music, just OD on 'em, OD on 'em, OD on 'em Ain't nothin' to it if you put your back into it and OD on 'em, OD on 'em, OD on 'em I'll walk you through it, let you know just how to do it The M-E-T-H, yes, I OD it Get you high like I'm light to the day, I OD [Verse 2: Method Man] My nigga, roll with it, flow with it, push the six-four with it Low-low kitted, wood finish, hood and it show Flow with it, blow with it, see that dough, go get it What I do with it, though, ain't none of your business Yo, spit when he talkin' in tongues? You'd be amazed how often it come That piff got me coughin' up lungs I'm tryin' to get bread (Y'all offerin' crumbs) Like y'all ain't tryin' to see Meth lickin' his thumb while he sortin' his ones, trick Flow 'bout as hot as the sun get, my blunt lit And I don't hit the track, I run shit (I'm slum, bitch) Fuck y'all, never did trust y'all, back to ready to bust off Kickin' that dust off, you know I just [Chorus: Kwamé & Method Man] OD on 'em, OD on 'em, OD on 'em Time to lose it, y'all, and do it to the music, just OD on 'em, OD on 'em, OD on 'em Ain't nothin' to it if you put your back into it and OD on 'em, OD on 'em, OD on 'em I'll walk you through it, let you know just how to do it The M-E-T-H, yes, I OD it Get you high like I'm light to the day, I OD [Verse 3: Method Man] I'm an equal opportunity ass-kicker These ass-lickin', brown-nosin' rappers is ass-kissers Who need they cash quicker than a sip in the glass slippers Then pass liquor 'til he pass out, I'm that nigga Mami got that hourglass figure who back bigger than crack Mr. Mef, ain't know I did it like that, did ya? If the track is iller, then the rap realer, Meth, the fact spiller Wu Killa Beez slash Gilla Now that we're up in it, I might just spit, I'm nice, they shit If death's a motherfucker, life's a bitch, ain't it? Young, Black, and dangerous, my gun double lead that spit bangers That leave you on the edge of your seat like cliffhangers, and I [Chorus: Kwamé & Method Man] OD on 'em, OD on 'em, OD on 'em Time to lose it, y'all, and do it to the music, just OD on 'em, OD on 'em, OD on 'em Ain't nothin' to it if you put your back into it and OD on 'em, OD on 'em, OD on 'em I'll walk you through it, let you know just how to do it The M-E-T-H, yes, I OD it Get you high like I'm light to the day, I OD ************************************************** Commercial Break (Thotti Gotti)[News Report: Thotti Gotti] This is Thotti Gotti from Thotti Gotti News reporting to you live from the Meth Lab In breaking news: Donald Trump still ain't shit In local news: a New Brighton woman is still not putting any respect on her box Neighbors say she's been like this since she was a child In Economic news: Niggas is still fuckin' the game up with twenty five dollar eighths Sources say the weed's trash anyway In Music: People are still trying to pay for studio time with E-B-T They do not accept it, please don't even try In Sports: Marcus Browne has quote, "yet another knockout" For everyone who paid the hundred dollars for the fight, I hope you enjoyed the six seconds And now, back to our featured presentation ************************************************** Commercial Break (Impractical Jokers Pranks)[Joe Gatto & Applebee's Hostess MIndy] Thank you for calling Applebee's on 50th, now featuring online ordering, this is Mindy, how many I help you? Um, hi, thi-this is Daniel I'm the personal assistant to Method Man Okay I'm wondering if it's possible to get a reservation He's going to be coming in with some friends later this evening About 6PM Is this the Killer Hill location? Unfortunately, we don't take reservations, we- He'll be coming with a Clan of friends, he'll need a big table There'll be affiliates there Okay, do not let U-God order drinks ************************************************** The Pilot - Intro[News Report: Thotti Gotti] Last season on The Meth Lab, police raided Junkyard where rapper Method Man was supposed to be found [Interlude] "You got three seconds to come out with your hands up!" "This my own private domicile and I will not be harassed, mother fucker!" [News Report: Thotti Gotti] Today, NYPD detectives were dispatched to the P-L-O in Park Hill where rapper Method Man was allegedly sighted Co-defendants were questioned but to no avail No one's cooperating with authorities [Interlude] "Where is he?" "I don’t know" "Where is he?" "I don't fuckin' know" "Do you want to go to jail?" "Do you want to go to jail?" [News Report: Thotti Gotti] Wu-Tang support groups deny all accusations against rapper Method Man They state, "Wu-Tang is for the children" However, authorities say rapper, Method Man, still has a connection with the bag stamped ’bang zoom' Viral videos of Method Man and his Meth Lab associates have hit the web, they don't seem worked And now for our featured presentation ************************************************** Yo[Intro: Hanz On] Yo Yo, yo Yo [Verse 1: Hanz On] Yo, it's gettin' hotter, Barker in the flesh Yo, he get malicious with it, more or less Yo, he get suspicious, man, y'all know the rest Yo, hearts absent in these rapper's chest Yes, he is resilient if you go reflect Blessed, them goons holdin' but they on they best Yo, so when you see 'em better show respect It's Hanzarelli, had them grizzlies come and get you pressed Yo, you mother fuckers, y'all ain't actin' right Y'all niggas spendin' all the paper, y'all ain't trappin' right Ain't no other way to say it, shit is black and white I have you on the train to Georgia like you're Gladys Knight Whoa, he the conductor, fuckers, pay the price He like a drunk trucker blowin' through the traffic lights Y'all like some blood suckas, busters in your blood type The shadow figure push the button, make y'all outta sight [Chorus] Yo, y'all know what type of time we on Yo, shinin' with no diamonds on Yo, them Staten boys hittin' hard and we always with the shits whenever drummers on Yo, y'all know what type of time we on Yo, shinin' with no diamonds on Yo, them Staten boys hittin' hard and we always with the shits whenever drummers on [Verse 2: Method Man] Yo, respect the jook, y'all ready know Yo, I'm burnin' kush, keep that Reggie though Yo, I'm talkin' bush, y'all so petty though You in the town, you can get around, no merry-go Whoa, boy, I shred 'em up, confetti throw I'm runnin' circles around your circle, who said he owe? Staten, welcome to the island, we ready, yo We Getty, yo, and we part Italians, SpaghettiOs Yo, I'm 'bout my fetti, that heavy dough Just let me blow, every forecast is heavy snow Burr, if Method freezin', I bet he froze Burr, one with every season, I bet he cold Forty below let the forty blow When I'm stealin' forty belows after forty years old, yow Not Metta World, but meta-flow And these are tests, try and catch the metaphor [Chorus] Yo, y'all know what type of time we on Yo, shinin' with no diamonds on Yo, them Staten boys hittin' hard and we always with the shits whenever drummers on Yo, y'all know what type of time we on Yo, shinin' with no diamonds on Yo, them Staten boys hittin' hard and we always with the shits whenever drummers on [Verse 3: Apocalipps] Hey, yo, the street is the only life I know Yo, I get it poppin' everywhere I go Since I was an embryo, I been that nigga, yo Shoutout to Wu like the episode from the Martin show Yo, walk with a Staten strut, burn a dutch I'm first on the frontline to hit 'em up Mr. Clutch when it's crunch time, I got the touch And I don't need a pat on the back, but thank you much Student of my culture, gun in my holster Blow some coca, live it, la vida loca I'm a alpha dog, y'all niggas is analog We digital, it's impossible to beat the gods It's logical, why would you go against the odds? It's possible, you could die for that shit you blog Check my résumé, real nigga DNA Get it the ski-mask way 'til my dyin' day [Chorus] Yo, y'all know what type of time we on Yo, shinin' with no diamonds on Yo, them Staten boys hittin' hard and we always with the shits whenever drummers on Yo, y'all know what type of time we on Yo, shinin' with no diamonds on Yo, them Staten boys hittin' hard and we always with the shits whenever drummers on ************************************************** N.Y.C. Everything[RZA/Bobby Digital] Yo, yo, yo From the heart of Medina to the head of Fort Greene Now-Y-C/Now I see Everything Niggas who sling, Shaolin cats throw inside a bing Bobby Digital got the golden seal sting Rhyme star, I write a hundred thousand dollar bar My pinstripe comma deletes your power bar Dr. Octopus tentacles, same as different song Bob Digital instrumental, nothing's indentitcal You biter, non-writer, Mr. Potato Head or Ida Deep-fried crinkle cut, one nickel cup fucked your whole LP up You must be stupid you liar I'm the purifier, live wire, hip-hop reviver A suicide mission you're committin, go against the Wu-Tang henchmen Perfect precision marksman, spit darts an, flip charts 'an Archery, shots aimed at your heart then Daffy Duckest will still +Bring Da Motherfuckin Ruckus+ Project Killa Hill be the buckest Smoke blunts drink Bud Light beer wit Buzz Lightyear Wet from here to infinity for them white hair Bobby Digital, overthrow your whole citadel Mista pitiful, your whole shrap stack is dispicable Undernourished, your shit cannot flourish Cherish every moment of his love before you perish Bitch, chicka chicka chich, watch me switch Lookin for a bird, I can hitch, into your atmosphere Take your pussy out like a pap smear Make you smile, at the same time crack a tear Smack ya rear, vagina saliva, Trojan wear, rough rider Up inside ya, dick applehead, opens up your clit wider Taste the apple cider, you become strong, then become a ?prider? (Bobby Bobby Bobby, Digi Digi Digi) Stuck to your ass like a Victoria's Secret wedgie Heart of Medina to the head of Fort Greene Now-Y-C/Now I see Everything Niggas who sling, Shaolin cats thrown inside the bing Bobby Digital got the killa bee sting From the heart of Medina to the head of Fort Green Now-Y-C Everything, niggas who sling Shaolin cats is thrown inside the bing Bobby Digital got the killa bee sting [Method Man] Drink a Heineken, as we go inside the mind again Nevermindin men droppin gem, can he shine again Most definate, let this be my last willing testament For the pesimist, exercise for the Exorcist Johnny Treacherous, like Three, I'm supposed to be Perpetuous, desimate the poetry 'cause everything is close to me The lectorous, Jonathon, king of the seven seas, battle wit Leviathon The Methodist, poly to your deficit, hit it up If I can't live it up somebody gotta give it up John J., blow em out the water adopt the Bombey Your bitch look like Stronjay, look at me the wrong way Burn one and sautee, bringin you different ways to sword play They bustin Bullets Over Broadway, Deep Cover I'm like Larry when the Fish-burn, I burn rubber 'cause I'm not an easy lover To the midnight, butt naked wit a knife Ask my alien likes, I've been crazy all my life Hardtime homicide, time flys, do or die Crooked ass and crooked eye, scripture from the darkside Johnny 5, I reside, in the killa bee hive Only the strong gon' survive From the depths of the killa to the top, we're now born Wildin on Staten Island be the poet John John Can't forget Bobby, if I did I'd feel gyp Like my sandwich ain't a sandwich without Miracle Whip From the depths of the killa to the top, we're now born Wildin on Staten Island be the poet John John Can't forget Digi, if I did I'd feel gyp Like my sandwich ain't a sandwich without Miracle Whip ************************************************** Pussy Pop[Method Man] It's the Meth in the house! Ha, yeah, break it down [Xzibit] When it's all said in done, we gon' be on top Cause we don't stop, now, lock it down, hit the spot And clown; Niggas relyin on special effects While the khakis and chronic, got the bitches still breakin they neck Move the crowd without breakin a sweat Trend setter, with a Beretta, so keep it on deck Cause you never know when Xzibit gonna move through the set Don't be scared, just be prepared and quiet as kept At a night club, talkin bout you don't go out And you tryin to got to school and make a certain amount But the last part, I just couldn't figure it out I guess its real hard to talk with a dick in your mouth Lightweight, like confetti, steadily tested by motherfuckers who ain't ready To deal with the legendary Soopafly, emcee, and bullett logo Shot callers, clear the whole block like we po-po [Chorus: Method Man] Round and round we go, it don't stop Till we all get dough, c'mon, make it hot Baby girl to the pussy pop, pussy pop Lick shots for the pussy pop, pop, pop! Lookin good with your stink-ass Type of ass make a nigga pull it over fast Make it hot, baby girl to pussy pop, pussy pop Lick shots for the pussy pop, pop pop! [Jayo Felony] Well, you gotta pop the pussy, get rid of the next with a name on your gums It's the ?Bidulo Gang? bitch, we both want some You got titties and ass But I got a dick and some cash You ain't talkin bout shit Then I'ma smash, bitch On three, on me, bitch, you my property Daddy Jayo Felony, ain't nobody stoppin me And I said daddy, bitch thats what you gon' call me I ain't no simp or a wimp I'ma motherfuckin pimp Tear spots in my hoes, make they high-heels fall off You got me ? the fuck-up, if you think I'm goin soft On ya; I'm hard on my hoes that's how it goes Bitch, get up off your toes, and get my six-four ? My name, you bounced, so you might as well break bread And only Dulo niggas know, whats the head My name is Billy Loco and this is my opinion I'm coming from SD, and Dulo is my religion Be-b-b-b- atch! [Chorus] [Xzibit] I don't save or pray, or ? clothes All I really wanna do is win the game, fuck hoes! In Jamaica, at the Half Moon Villa, with a killa And a cocain dealer, layin low from the law See it all comes down to who's quick to draw first Pay attention, prevention, ridin off in a hearse Mister X to the you know me Thousand-dollar bitches wanna pop the pussy for free The disfunctional member of the Alkoholik family tree Frequently bang bitches, Wu-Tang, Killer Bee Hennessey on the rocks, with Pina Coloda At the Ramada, make you work hard like Donna For the cheese, got you down on your hands and knees After that we kick back and burn up some trees Mad shout, cause Xzibit's not the type to be treatin I'm an Alkoholic and I'm late for my meeting (Come on, Like that!) [Chorus] ************************************************** Judgement Day (Intro)[Clark Dick] Ladies and gentlemen, I am your host, Clark Dick We are live from Times Square in New York City And we are approaching the final seconds of 1999 Ladies and gentlemen, the millennium is on its way [Method Man] 10...9...8...7...6...5...4...3...2...1... Happy new... *explosion* ************************************************** ’88 Coupes[Verse 1] Man, I don't know what they smokin' Our rappers must be on that Lindsay Lohan I think that snow bunny got 'em open Your 'erb smell funny and I funny like we jokin' Look, if it ain't about this money, don't approach 'em If you do try and play, I got a K that can coach 'em Pen game, poke 'em like an inmate enforcer I'm for that, it's nothin' like a doormat, you're welcome Huh, shout-out to Jadakiss and French I got two French vanillas French kissin', that's a pimp If my goon don't stretch 'em wit' the weapon, that's a ten Little meth in your possession, that's possession wit' intent, bruh It's a hard knock life, but we find a way And we still find the time to write a rhyme a day I'm tryin' to send my babies to college Why you rappers babysittin' your pockets? I want your life or your wallet Brr, that's the sound of the roscoe Mexicans is vatos, skinny jeans is flacko That means I'm tight wit' you, I'm ready to fight wit' you Please, and that don't mean I'm tryin' to be polite wit' you Nah, see, I ain't even try and griped wit' you So take your team if they ain't tryin' to lose they life wit' you Back down while I'm puttin' this MAC down But only for a limited time, homie, so act now Bruh, keep it a hundred and a Backwood Who else could think on an empty stomach? I'm that good Far from the slave ship, just far from basic Started from the basement, now we're y'all replacements Rap star Belly, magazine, who sixteen? Son, you all ready, headshot, all beggin' Man in the myth, take a stand, any stand on the Fifth I'm tryin' to hold it down, I hold the Clan Get a grip, Lord, from this jump I got my hand on the ripcord And I ain't tryin' to bite the hand off your bit Ford Now y'all done got the Method Man on some rich border I'm gettin' paid and I'm full Y'all sheep for the wolves, we gon' eat 'til we good Y'all don't speak when you should, ain't no peace in my hood ************************************************** Se AcaboMethod Man Miscellaneous Se Acabo [Method Man] Beatnuts, Mista Mef, you know how we do "Se Acabó" [Ju Ju] Free drinks on the house, word Everybody drinkin tonight (WHAT DA DEALLY?) Por ahí viene el perro, por ahí viene Cae la gorda por... Yo check it out Swing a bat on you like the devil himself Put it on us, sickness or health Makin you could only breathe wit help I ain't playin, you don't wanna hear what you sayin yourself Hit the street wit incredible beats We reknowned for tearin it down Never have you heard a similar sound Like a drop off when shit pop off, feel a hot one Side scorching from a hot gun Niggas get lost in the buildings wit money and the children Not the type to talk too much and catch feelin Dominican flag over the bed on the ceiling Protect everything I rep, that's the first thing Many things follow, bullet stay hollow You actin like we don't chew, you can't swallow Niggas try to change my plans, I'ma beat you till I break my hands Ju the German every place I stand ("Se Acabó") [Method Man] All day everyday ("Se Acabó") mothafuckers! Step up front! What's goin on? [Psycho Les] Aiyyo it's Big Psych, baby you don't want no problems Suckers want war, then yo bomb em Bring the heat, squeeze the flame torch Then peel out in a convertible gray Porsche I'm three miles ahead of you, I took the plates off Just in case your snitch wanna get paid off Pull out the chainsaw, it's A Musical Massacre Cut the head off the driver and the passenger Sic my dogs after ya, have you climbin a tree Just another crime in the street Ain't nuttin better than findin a beat So if you find that and try to blow my spot up ("You!") Get shot up "Se Acabó" Means "It's Over" bro, Method Man on the remix, it's over yo "Se Acabó" Beatnuts flip the beat, it's over yo "It's a Beatnuts thing, yo you know how that go" [O.C.] [Method Man] What kind of Beatnut am I? Spanish Fly, P-O-P-P-I (Who got the live special guest for the night?) Excuse me as I kiss the sky Yo one on one through the nasal To put food on the table, I Rush Associated Labels Huh, ready, willing and able to rock cradle And rock steady, when I get the drop I drop heavy Twist the metal, mask the machette The god don't want beef, he want veggie Plus signs over Deadly Medley Who got em gassed on his own Getty Battery back, he Eveready Now what's fuckin wit that ha? Not you, you chocha I fuck wit Beatnuts, Livin La Vida Loca! Callate la boca, see the Spanish Fly on the sofa One word, he slap you wit the toaster Keep it in the holster on safety Put yourself in timeout, playin wit this dough, let me find out You ain't hard to find though, barrel on your tonsils Sigan hablando y siga mamando "Se Acabó" "Se Acabó" All day everyday "Se Acabó" No doubt What the fuck's goin on? Worldwide! (Beatnuts)Write your own rhymes "Se Acabó" Yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah "Se Acabó" All you punk niggas walk it off, "Se Acabó" wordup We ain't playin over here yamean "Se Acabó" ************************************************** Mrs. InternationalYeah, nice Dedicated to all the beautiful people in the house You know who you are Yeah, Redman, Method Man, Blackout! 2 Sexy... Hair and nails done up, girl, you got your act together You get the thumbs up, your raw footage is uncut Fronting like them goodies is untouched We both knew this money's is young bucks Ma, you ever take a trip to Shang-a-lot Too many hard shames, the hardest one is saying goodbye Look here, time is money, let me save you some time And in your spare time, fully understand I'm a rare find You know, so pick a day and pick a place and we there for sure Slow up the pace, this ain't no race, and there you go I'm dope money, girl, that mean I got cash to blow She love it though, she so international Not around the way, around the world And you be stunting when you around your girls But you classy, though, I'm feeling your vibe, you feeling the high The G4 is ready to fly, is you ready to ride? Let's go International (Now we can creep, we can lay on the beach, you know Then hit the sheets, I'll let you play with my feet, you know She keep it low, she so international) International {Hey, I like a girl that'll roll me a blunt, you know With pretty feet, cook me something to eat, you know You not a groupie, you're international} Hey, you know me, girl, who I be, girl The big whale that bailed outta SeaWorld What's your name, show me I.D., girl You look black and a little Chinese, girl Hey, wait a minute, where you going, shorty? Try to sneak past me like you ain't balling You look sweet like Tweet, baby, c-c-call me Matter of fact, wasn't you on Maury? I'm just playing, hey miss thang Hey, hey, miss thang, how you gon' miss me? I got tickets, let's roll to the Knicks game You Teena Marie, and baby, I'm Rick James Excuse me, where you going, mama? I wanna change, I voted for Obama Bring in the new, kick out the old timers Let's talk while we go and meet your mama International (Hey, I like a girl that's thick in the waist, you know The kind of girl, that'll finish your plate, you know You not greedy, you international) International {The type of chick I like'll wheelie your bike, you know Rock the mic, roll a Philly uptight, you know I like it though, she so international} Seems to me, me, you a queen to be You mean girl, but you don't mean to be Got your crown and your throne, little castle you can rest your dome And we can smoke a little greenery, you know? You getting that dough, let's get it and go on this cruise I'm taking it slow, you painting your toes, and it's cool F*ck with your dude, I'm f*cking with you Like an overnight celebrity, Miss Nothing to Lose Yo, hey, hey, miss lady, my boricua I heard your Applebum like Bonita Your accent telling me you from the eastside Take off your shoes, you bout five feet high I get high, what about you? A jungle brother, and baby I house you Your feet looking real good in them house shoes You're not a groupie, you international International... International... ************************************************** It’s in the GameYou know I'm bout it bout it What? Huh? You know Huh? It's like, you don't limit yourself to one thing Your mama Got to broaden your horizons Broaden your joints Keep your eyes on the prize The struggle goes on Eryday (ha ha, ha ha, ha ha, ha ha) Eryday And I'ma live it through my music (ha ha, ha ha, ha ha, ha ha) You know how we do Choose or lose from it Verse One: Method Man Pull your shoes up, don't get stuck Or get your frame struck, when my squad blitzin Hittin like Mack trucks, head splittin paper written In windy cities like Chicago, no bullshhhh You see me spittin at the kitten with the lost mitten As we engage in cold war gettin frostbitten Once again up in these stank drawers baby listen One mind and for one cause, heavy hittin The penalty illegal ruffnecks, we bring ruckus In pursuit of gold lines, can a n---a touch it If I can't see ya can't truss it A shady character like Buzz Buzzard Lay him out like a plush rug-ged *mimicking Brand Nubian* Now you can love it, or leave it alone We drink death and puff bone Draggin your body out the end zone And any way the wind blow that's where you flow That's why you be the first one caught, last to know Body layin out on the flo', substitute Heavy players from the run and shoot, we open do' Third and long, quarterback pack the cannon on I go deep he drop bombs, *whistle* that's when I touch-down Six points, what now? Once again who comin through in the clutch now, perfect strangerous Ever since I came with this, and wrecked a body You convinced like Lombardi, that Johnny Dangerous Offensive shotgun Calm in the pocket I got one, in the milli gun Deep threats to chose from, that's how it goes son You win some you lose some, it's in the game You win some you lose some (uhh!) that's how it goes son (yeah) You win some you lose some (uhh!) it's in the game ... (yeah) You win some you lose some, that's how it goes son You win some you lose some, it's in the game Verse Two: Ricky Watters From the football field (It's in the game You win some you lose some, it's in the game) To the mountain, yaknowhatI'msayin? (That's how it goes son, that's how it goes You win some you lose some, it's in the game) Freestylin, profilin, won't catch me smilin Straight from Fema Island, buckwhylin, I'm stylin A funky type of style with the lyrical incision S--t locked down, like my n----z out in prison Good riddance, keep it hidden, up in my knapsack Sippin cognac, while I vibe off this funky track Yo bring it back, or make it hit harder Infiltrate your mind like Nino at the Carter, but smarter So drop harder, if you wanna conjugate Verbs and nouns, make it profound as I pound In your earpiece I'm the beast To say the least, we must increase, the peace But keep it real, so I can feel, the skills Funky fresh rhymes I will build so I kill And thrill, lyrics spittin, through my lips Doin backflips, it's another hit Come take a sip, of the running Watters Lyrically I slaughter, mentally I author The rhymes that you feel to the map Crushin double barrels, sing em out like carols Who it be? It be I, the n---a with the chinky eyes From NY, city we committee we gets busy With killa beez on the swarm Lyrically we storm, mentally a lord Verbally I bomb (boom!), guard your grill It's the man that chill, run for the hills from Grassvile Drillin rhymes straight on tracks and double cuff Another TV, and they loved it (You win some you lose some, that's how it go son You win some you lose some, that's in the game You win some you lose some, that's how it go son You win some you lose some, that's in the game It's in the game You win some you lose some, it's in the game It's in the game, it's in the game, it's in the game, it's in the game) ************************************************** A Bitch Is a Bitch[Method Man] Ooh yea I'm on my way to get some hay I'd Rather not say right now, but anyway I'm F**kin wit this gangsta bitch around The way. Who was ?? and the games People play. A Hoe is a M-O could keep Shit down low. I'm wit dat ya know my Style so what da flow? Its been 3 weeks Now my girl still don't know but what She don't know can't hurt her or make A murder. The next peace..? She don't Want to have peace, she just wants To have fun so I hook her and I treat her Like one. Bust it! Look in tha local Project, when I buzz her; on the 5th Rather brother make a dozen? Floor she Had a child but because I'm half poor kids Buy dread the next door. He don't know The meaning of child care, 'cause she's on Welfare looking at..? So raps the same YearSo I took advantage of dat before it Was..? and pull'd a stack, and now what I'm stickin it up without a doubt, and then Should I go upstrairs? F**k dat rap too Many hoes up in dat place. I just can't Wait to find out til (??) All around town The Meth is gettin down. With ? and..? BITCH! don't rock the buck? I'm not a Buck smakin bitch's teeth down their Throats. So I avoid all of dat, and call Her back I was drinking all night, Kid I need it bad, wassup ho? how you? Loungin Through..I ain't got nuthin to Do so wassup wit you? Treat her like A rough situation, You know whats on My mind you wit it? Now she's all(?) And need some water, Before she had To ask her 'cause to watch her daughter Yea, come down down strairs were Goin where? Straight to da vid..(??) Sum-it up check my dough for body (??) She comes back out of her house we in Da cab. Not much longer to want,(??) Step right in and got a (??) Then I seen Her wit a man down the curl, [Pause] Ooh Shit! Dats my girl! Whats goin on Kid? Hear all my words motherf**ka.. F**k dat Bitch! I'm gonna f**k her! [Meth talking] (Da f**k you doin with dat nigga?) [Method Man] A Bitch is a Bitch..and is always A bitch. Cracked and shit like a witch [Closing] Out from the slums..there she comes ************************************************** Mi CasaWhat chu crazy? Since a buck tooth baby, Doc Is like straight fuck you pay me like Jay-Z Lazzy Niggas complain' Doc load up the cartridge and start kickin' game like Acclam Those who you call Doggs rat your name Those who say they love you attack your change That's why I fold down four fingers Say fuck the world and Jimmy da earth without Coat hangers Rap game n street game don't sleep It's a cold world betta pack yer own heat Niggas ain't happy to the cash on E Then the hash and the cat and a bag is on me Yeah right, my bear hugz air tight New Yorkerz no no turnin' on a red light Me against forty of you? I fear a fight Microphones get took you shook wear a blight You don't got no wins in Mi Casa And it's your stopper Meth ti cal man and funk docta You don't got no wins in Mi Casa Bomb droppa throw you out ya mind who shot ya You don't got no wins in Mi Casa Hit it hip hoppers turn it up a notch make it it hot cha You don't got no wins in Mi Casa I'm warnin' you partner Meth ti cal man and funk docta Every time I turn around somebody in my business Time for you to testify can I get a witness actin' like bitch's Dirty Dick niggas look suspicious ain't physically fit for the fitness Welcome to the game of death Poly wanna biscuit? First prize a one way ticket to my shit list And I spread it like a bummer or a sickness Stand by let a chicken head lay a chick let Can I slap a fat ass with da quickness Stupid ass niggas goin' broad nigga sick list Comin' through son I'ma fuck you and your district Miss representin', miss interpreting and des misfit Playboy, you ain't got no balls plus your dick less And I'm like a plumma layin' pipes in yer [unverified] No man can hold hold me nor can control me Next time you see me holla like you know me You don't got no wins in Mi Casa And it's your stopper Meth ti cal man and funk docta You don't got no wins in Mi Casa Bomb droppa throw you out ya mind who shot ya You don't got no wins in Mi Casa Hit it hip hoppers turn it up a notch make it it hot cha You don't got no wins in Mi Casa I'm warnin' you partner Meth ti cal man and funk docta You don't got no wins in Mi Casa And it's your stopper You don't got no wins in Mi Casa Bomb droppa You don't got no wins in Mi Casa Hit it hip hoppers You don't got no wins in Mi Casa I'm warnin' you partner ************************************************** Ridin’ for Outro[Black Ice] Three young cats strapped with gats decided to ride out one night The in-flight drug used to induce the hindsight was dust The moonlight was robust but they couldn't see the beauty in it Their duty in it was to carry out another senseless killin Senses and feelings distorted they boarded their vessel Nessel Discreet in crotches and underneath seats they tuck heat To complete the mission they had no decision in No longer do they use our light and dark hues to create the vision in our towns But now they red and blue override our brown skin We've been conditioned to let off them rounds when we see another color rag Or, hear another brother brag about what set he claimin Poverty, drugs and poor education should be the target But we won't stay gamin that We'll kill and maim another cat like there's no shame in that Like there's fame in that We hang out them car windows and bust them slugs In the name of genocide in disguise, so we don't take blame for that But if there's honor amongst you thieves in life Then what the fuck you hidin for? Recognize your deed to trife and decide what the fuck you ridin for ************************************************** 1, 2, 1, 2(feat. Redman) [Meth] Come on 1 2 1 2 uh uh 1 2 1 2 Mr. Meth and Doc 1 2 1 2 Uh uh 1 2 1 2 Dj Scratch on the track 1 2 1 2 Wa wa 1 2 1 2 Break your motha fuckin back 1 2 1 2 Ah yo yo My, lyric is 8 ball Batter up play ball Fuck ya'll analog Niggas we be digital, subliminal, come in From the 5 star general Attack you from the blind side, invisible To the naked eye Where them criminals Better have your 8 essential vitamins and minerals The wu is coming through you know the outcome Critical Condition in your physical for injurin The officer and gentleman who stack by the benjamen [Redman] Off a beat like this I keep a night stick In case any stick up care where heat might miss I chicken fry rice bitch In a white trench Bustin off two macks I'm like "I'm hit"!!! I'm just playin, I clear the croud out Like a peppa can sprayin I throw lightin out the arms raiden Go guard your pray Next year I do nothin more than Y2k [Hook:] We say Wa wa wa wa 1 2 1 2 Wa wa wa wa 1 2 1 2 We say Wa wa wa wa 1 2 1 2 we say Wa wa wa wa 1 2 1 2 We say Wa wa wa wa 1 2 1 2 Wa wa wa wa 1 2 1 2 And if you say fuck me [Meth] I'm a say fuck you [Redman] Wa wa wa wa 1 2 1 2 [Meth] From deputant down to stripper I'm too nonchalaunt A drink mixed with four kinds of liquors Catch me at the bar "Fu Bar" Ladies know who we are and Dream of fuckin a star Who da scrub Shotgun in this man car Burnin up Forever gettin thrown out the club It be us Paul Shot out and bugged I smoke bud, sniff a bee's ass to get a buzz I'm everything you think you don't know [Redman] I throw a 5 in the power Poppa wheely with the front end hittin speed bumps, 40 miles per hour I'm out at Howard, next to Baltimore Takin change out the fountains at shoppin malls Rats can only afford Chuck E Cheese The blood in my jeans is tough like Buddy Lee Semi-dart auto off ya, blood coughin Meth pull the last spark plug with a heart pump [Hook:] [Redman] Call me will, enemy I state When 4 Doc run the scam New jacks studderin, that the man from the upperhand Punch, atomic bomb I hit many From Bricks to South Park you dyin with Kenny While you bailin I'm trailin Rockin hard hat helmets clip the satellite servallence When I walk by you better not be kickin Or I put two more in that terriyaki chicken [Meth] You've just been fitted for them seeman shoes This is bottom of the lake raps Stab you in the back Kung Fu 52 cops can't withstand the 52 blocks Unless they bust like 52 shots I'm the has been that have not Battle kids at Maxwell's house Know when I'm good to the last drop What's my name Meth he's name Doc Just like urban See me in the gran transportation splurgin Drivin with a turban who push a black suburban (come on) We rollin windows half down through the urban Network law lay it down like a persian M to the E to the F, spell curtain [Redman] Get out your car sucker This ain't yours Robbed you with a gun that filled with paint balls And brauds got the nerve to act funny You a champaine ho, with kool aide money Frown bitch, Doc up in that town quick You back down a point on nfl blitz I'm lyin buddah break fool and take two And put your hole in the earth to escape through [Hook:] [Talked] Dj Scratch Not ready for prime time playas Mr. Meth, Funk Doc Def Jam 2000 mutha fuckasssssss!!! [echos out] Calm me down baby Nod your head to this Come on Ey yo this is wkya radio We kickin your motha fuckin ass Yo Flex That's right it's goin down Redman, Method Man blackin the funk out Now listen ************************************************** Release Yo’ Delf 2Blue Raspberry: When I first stepped on the scene, niggas was petrified Jet back to the lab, like they were being chased by homicide My rap flow does you like Tical, and it will never steer you wrong And all you bitch-ass niggas in the industry, your careers won't be lasting long When I first stepped on the scene, niggas was petrified Jet back to the lab, like they were being chased by homicide My rap flow does you like Tical, and it will never steer you wrong And all you bitch-ass niggas in the industry, your careers won't be lasting long Method Man: Check it, I'm the fucking man who they mention Notice, that other niggas rap styles is bogus Doo-doo, prepare for this verse Tical voodoo Blazing, the stuff that ignites stimulation Inside ya, 'cause I be that house over water Forgot in the realm that be deep as the Poseidon Adventure, niggas need to touch they freaking picture For the sickness, that be spreading with the quickness Remedies, cousin I be doing on my enemies Penalty, then I drink forties to they memories Emotion, rushing through your down street vicinity Blunt smoke, in the air reveals my identity (Tical.... tical... ti-cal, ti-cal...) As I keep it movin, we keep it movin uh Keep it movin and keep it movin uh Keep it movin, baby, we be movin uh Keep it movin, we keep it huh RHARHHH What's that rhythm what's that sound Party people getting down When it hit the baddest man Just release, yo delf!! My God, somebody said it's on, if it is then I'll be set To blow a nigga up, with my Five Fingers of Death I bring it to his whole damn fam, understand If he fronting, on any man down with the Clan I be coming, for the headpiece you can't cope for my brother I bring it to the Pope, word to mother Serial, killer, style from Big Isle No Stat My peoples are you with me where you at? Shit's getting deep in here, I mean like thick Niggas looking all in my face like they want dick It's about to hit the fan, hit the flo' That's all I can stands and I can't stands no mo' What is it? Niggas think they bigger Because they got the finger on the trigger of a pistol They don't know I'm wicked, when I start to kick it With the raw sound, wash it down with a Mystic Then I add a snapple, nigga want the juice but he don't want the hassle Then we try to overthrow the castle Better yet the tent when I'm coming to your town Black man, the rental, God, the pistol YAH! If you don't want a burn from GLOCK then beware I buck shots, we move up, the buck stops here No more dough will be made Unless it's being made by hoes What's that rhythm what's that sound Party people getting down When it hit the baddest man Just breathe in, till then And keep it moving, baby keep it moving I plan to keep it moving, you know we keep it movin uh And keep it moving, baby we be moving uh And keep it moving, you know we keep it moving uh And keep it moving, you know we keep it moving Baby we be moving, you know we keep it moo..RARHRAH Blue Raspberry: When I first stepped on the scene, niggas was petrified Jet back to the lab, like they were being chased by homicide My rap flow does you like Tical, and it will never steer you wrong And all you bitch-ass niggas in the industry, your careers won't be lasting long Method Man: Throw your hands in the sky And wave em from side to side And if you're ready to spark up the Meth-Tical Let me hear you say stimuli Blue Raspberry: When I first stepped on the scene, niggas was petrified Jet back to the lab, like they were being chased by homicide My rap flow does you like Tical, and it will never steer you wrong And all you bitch-ass niggas in the industry, your careers won't be lasting long ************************************************** Play 4 keepsHa, yeah, yeah, yeah Yeah, yeah One time, yo Never liked son from day one, bring you tool That nigga stick you and play dumb, hate a bitch-ass Who care where you came from, you ain't prepared For when the pain come, this nigga's scared, shook to death From a cold stare, stunnin', knowin' my brothers fiend To do you somethin' over here, we head huntin' In the function I smell fear, adrenaline start pumpin' I smash pumpkins, hard rock be in the cafe Tear the club up, and anyone that try to judge us The last days, makin' sure I get the last say In the food chain, is you predator or prey? If you featherweight, lyrics blow your back Crack your vertebrae, lookin' for a better way To get my point across, thoughts accelerate at the same speed Of the murder rate, Lord, never perpetrate a fraud 'Til my nigga Carlton Fisk see the boss, truly yours, Mr. Meth Life's a snippet, one way ticket Time tickin' fast, blink you might miss it Semen on street shit, you might catch fifty stitches Body bag sprayed up, buried in muddy ditches I play for keeps, bust heat you catch cold feet My rap sheet, speak for itself, concrete Evident, killa hill, resident, double dart agent Secret, intelligent, my rap style's flagrant Feel the sting of a killa bee, Johnny Blaze Street life, deck and mobb deep, play for keeps In the city that you never sleep, pay attention Ain't no shittin' when you gotta eat, we hold it down I move like Mad Max 'cross the wasteland One hand holds the head of the last brave man Made man, Cuban link chain of command Authorized fam', hot like Sahara sand My live team turn the club to a crime scene High beams flash, promoters die behind cream Get your face blown, might face the chrome We take this more serious than just a poem I think about a lot of shit, especially when I'm bent About the foul shit goin' on in my life, current event It's evident I smoke cigarette down to Brownsville Thinkin' to myself, how many lives must my pound kill? Hopefully none, ain't the one to give chase Hemmed by Jake, worryin' who might turn state's So I chill, put my killa niggas on the battlefield On the low plottin' silent murderer, never doubt still Never follow beef, hey, beef follow me Wanna settle it in the court? I say settle it in the streets Like our pops did it, you got gats get hot with it Now you dry snitchin', because you got knocked with it I just rock with it, go with the flow, think for a hot minute Stash my dough secure the funds of profit Yo, extreme rhyme niggas, you wastin' your time Fuckin' with my niggas, extraordinary line swishin' Your mind out position, tryin' to figure this shit Rewind it and listen quick, you might miss this Olympic, rap jave-lon, travel beyond, your weak song Doin' this for too long, to not come strong You're only a pawn of viet dong Tryin' to form against mines, you musta just been born Secluded on a distant farm, this is the real world Where niggas get shot and shanked, where there's tremendous pain You get your frame inflamed crushed to dust by the next man's clutch It's infamous you fucks, intense bad luck Feel the sting of a killa bee, Johnny Blaze Street life, deck and mobb deep, play for Keeps In the city that you never sleep, pay attention Ain't no shittin' when you gotta eat, we hold it down Stand strong on our two feet, we all ready For a war here, fuck peace, what? Feel the sting of a killa bee, Johnny Blaze Street life, deck and mobb deep, play for keeps In the city that you never sleep, pay attention Ain't no shittin' when you gotta eat, we hold it down Stand strong on our two feet, we all ready For a war here, fuck peace, peace More two One, two More two Check one, two ************************************************** C.E.O.utro[Russell Simmons speaking] Thanks for coming out. God bless you. Goodnight ************************************************** Intro (The Meth Lab)What's good. Staten Island stand up! This right here - Staten Island artist Done by Staten Island, made in Staten Island. Enjoy Fuckin' Meth Heads... ************************************************** Meth vs. Chef (original version)[Kung Fu Sample] Duel, worthy of a general If you want to fight, fight with me! One to one! Man to man! [Intro: Lounge Lo, (Raekwon)] Get ready to gel team! Live and direct from the one-six-ooh We got Tical, pow! Raekwon the Chef, Tical! It's about to go on, Tical! You make the call, I make the call! It's all for all Method Man, Raekwon the Chef (count my shells) And there's about to be one left (count my shells, nigga) I know you know it's on kid (Bring that shit I don't give a fuck!) *bell rings* [Method Man, (Raekwon)] Who lit that shit it was I the chinky-eye Cheeba-hawk from New York, Tical Staten Isle Niggas thought, that they could walk a dog but they caught A bad situation, cause I'm a sandwich short Of a picnic, cause you ain't equipped with the sickening Style, blowing up the spot like ballistic Missiles, I be comin through like the four-nine-three-eleven Tearing up the power-u, Me-Tical A bad motherfucking Buddha Monk, what the fuck Hit your chest, like cardiac arrest, blow the front Out the frame, hit the pussycat for the pain Of the dog shit, nobody move run your garments A rugged vet, terrible like a Champion sweat Wrap a power in a tec, to wet A nigga up, with all the dangerous diseases Sniffling sneezing coughing aching stuffy head fever Fucker, I think it's bout time that you suffer Bobbing on my nob like an all day sucker *bell rings* Bitch! Meth Vs. Chef (it's my turn) Meth Vs. Chef (yo let's bring that shit baby) Meth Vs. Chef (yo, yeah, one more time nigga) Meth Vs. Chef (callin me out, it's goin off) I blow your fuckin ass to death *bell rings* [Raekwon] I'm going all out kid no turnbacks You could try to front, get smoked and that's that Lyric assassin, dressed in black bugging Sixteen shots to your mug, from a slug then I go to war in a concrete jungle, make the punt Cause niggas act funny, and fumble But I relax, count my shells, a lot of heads gotta fly Niggas stay strapped, armed to die Time for jet-black Tim boot, flowing Wha-Su God get him, hit em with the nine troop No question, cha-cha-BLOW in the session Bloodshot in that direction, cypher *bell rings* Attack you like chess moves best move Yo, yeah, yo The boards, your ass 'Tack, 'tack, 'tack, uH! *bell rings* 'Tack the boards like chess moves best move At Rae through, comin at your motherfuckin crew Live direct, yeah you better step Gunshots ring on the set, let's jet Motivate, to the gate With some quick high Rae stay fly, and rob your Isle Airwaves, yo behave Now you're a slave with the boots that paved the way *bell rings three times* Ahh shit! Chef Vs. Meth Vs. Meth ************************************************** Outro (Meth Lab Season 2)[News Report: Thotti Gotti] This show was brought to you by the United Staten Island Association In conjunction with Meth Lab Studios and Hanz On Music Entertainment Stayed tuned for the info on season 3, Meth Lab: Rehab ************************************************** Emergency Forecast (Thotti Gotti Weather Report)[News Report: Thotti Gotti] Weather report: I don't know how it is outside but in the Meth Lab, sure is cloudy ************************************************** Commercial Break (Thotto Gotti ”Pussy On Soundcloud”)[News Report: Thotti Gotti] With Backpage shutting down, bitches are now selling box on Soundcloud Available for download, link is in bio [Interlude] "Hahahahaha, yo, hahahha" "Oh, oh shit!" "Oh shit!" "Ahahahaha, ahah" "Oh, I'm done" ************************************************** City LightsI get tore up, I get tore up under city lights I get tore up, I get tore up under city lights Tore up every city, I get tore up under city lights I get tore up, I get tore up under city lights Tore up under city lights, tore up under city lights I get tore up, I get tore up under city lights Tore up under city lights, tore up under city lights I get tore up, I get tore up under city lights Tore up under city lights, tore up under city lights Yo, I'm rolling in my ride, my eyes real chinky Hit 145, buy like 12 twinkies Today a good day, I know, don't jinx it I 'will' keep a 'smith', just like Jada Pinkett Baby, without blinking, I do it my way I shit on folks, the opposite of R. K I'm rude, pardon me, I'm too hood Doc on your mind all the time, like New E.R.A Who am I? That nigga too fly My mama gave birth on Continental Airlines I ain't lying, I'm back, boy, you hit the backboard I'm all swish, make a memo on your black board This class here, nigga, is for the underground UGK, Doc and Meth, locking the summer down And I ain't playing games, homey, so get it right Cuz I 'get tore, I get tore up' under city lights I get tore up, I get tore up under city lights Tore up every city lights, I get tore up under city lights I get tore up, I get tore up under city lights Tore up under city, I get tore up under city lights I get tore up, I get tore up under city lights Tore up under city lights, tore up under city lights I get tore up, I get tore up under city lights Tore up under city lights, tore up under city lights I dropped to 95, now I'm on 95 South and the dirty been riding dirty since Dirty died I gets it early, my nigga, heard me, I'm certified And when I ride, I'm with Reggie Noble, New Jersey Drive I make it happen, homey, I take you back when I was wearing ponies And them older niggas was snapping on me How many rappers know me? I know what cash own Face it, this game I take it, in holy matrimony And now can't nothing hold me, I f*cks with UGK Some dudes is more like Kobe, I'm more like Rudy Ray You either in it pimping, or you just in the way I love this life that I'm living, your shit can end today Two things to know about me, I guess I'll never change And keep this money like Southern Cali, and never rain And I ain't playing games wit ya, so get it right And I 'get tore, I get tore up' under city lights I get tore up, I get tore up under city lights Tore up every city lights, I get tore up under city lights I get tore up, I get tore up under city lights Tore up under city, I get tore up under city lights I get tore up, I get tore up under city lights Tore up under city lights, tore up under city lights I get tore up, I get tore up under city lights Tore up under city lights, tore up under city lights For the king of the trill is up in this bitch Drop the top, but I get the switch You see my level, he tuck the stitch Texas, nigga, we getting rich F*ck a hater, man, f*ck a snitch G-Code nigga, we don't love the po-po No more swag, now pass the dough dough We keep it super tight like pants in SoHo I'm bout my dough, ho, so don't play with my bread Man, I be trying to stop the violence nowadays so it's dead I'm popping that trunk and grabbing that chopper, putting that K to ya head I'd rather be laying up in the bed with your baby and may getting head Yeah, my Cadillac car is candy painted, dripping like Bernadette My steering wheel is woodgrain, I grip it and turn it quick I'm riding bowls, black with yellow stripes, like a Steeler And as far as the rims go, I'm an 84 dealer A smile peeler when I mash out in the Cady Lean it back up on the leather, man, and smoking on a fatty This UGK 4 Life, if you ain't know you better get it right Why, 'I get tore, I get tore up' under city lights I get tore up, I get tore up under city lights Tore up every city lights, I get tore up under city lights I get tore up, I get tore up under city lights Tore up under city, I get tore up under city lights I get tore up, I get tore up under city lights Tore up under city lights, tore up under city lights I get tore up, I get tore up under city lights Tore up under city lights, tore up under city lights UGK, Redman, Method Man, in the f*cking building, bitch [Spoken Outro] ************************************************** All That I NeedChorus: You're all I need to get by-- (x2) Verse One: Shorty I'm there for you anytime you need me For real girl It's me in your world, believe me Nothing make a man feel betta than a woman Queen with a crown that be down for whatevera There's a few things dat's forever, my lady We can make war or make babies Back when I was nothin You made a brother feel like he was somethin Dat's why I'm witchu til dis day Boo no frontin Even when the skies were gray You would rub me on my back and say "Baby it'll be okay." Now dat's real to a brotha like me baby Never ever give my pussy away and keep it tight aight And I'ma walk these dogs so we can live In a fat ass crib wit thousands of kids Word life you don't need a ring to be my wife Jus be there for me I'm a make sure we Be livin in the fucking lap of luxury I'm realizing dat cha didn't have to fuck wit me But cha did now I'm going all out kid And I got mad love to give, you my nigga Chorus: (x2) Mary J Blidge: Like sweet morning dew I took 1 look at you And it was plain to see You were my destiny With you I spend my time I'll dedicate my life I'll sacrifice to you Dedicate my life to you Verse Two: I got a love jonez for your body and your skin tone Five minutes alone I'm already on da bone Plus I love da fact you got a mind of your own No need to shop around you got dat good shit at home Even if I'm locked up North you in da world Rockin three fourths of cloth never showin' your stuff off, Boo It be true me for you dat's how it is I can be your knower you can be my Wiz Then I can be your sun, you can be my Earth Resurrect the God through birth, best believe Chorus (x6) ************************************************** Dangerous GroundYeah, yeah, yeah, yo, yo, yo All them real live motherfuckin' niggas 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 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 And curse his first born, is this thing on? Send 'em to the children of the corn we the people See, niggas 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 Niks, 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 [Incomprehensible], God" [Incomprehensible] is hard, regardless to whom or what They all movin' targets, Allah Runnin' 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? Peace, who this? Mind detect mind, I P.L.O. your startin' line, deep Space Nine Designed 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 steroid 50 men convoy, expensive where's the big toy Rumble through the wasteland right hand's on the silencer 40 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 God's thinkin' of? Comin' in the club wit that screw face, 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 [Incomprehensible] 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 ************************************************** True[Meth] Jeeeez! Now right You know you dead wrong Yo know... Turn me up, turn me up Jab me with a fuckin' spoon You know you dead wrong For this one right here baby, for real Yo, yo, yo Another day, another dollar Sharks wanna bite don't bother Cause this rhymes the truth, and The truths hard to swallow Don Dada, hard act to follow See Rockwilder with the iced out dog collar My crew want it all This bout is scheduled for one four We can build or we can brawl Yes y'all, last call for alchahol, damn! Monkey wrench fuckin' up the whole program [Chorus:] [Meth] Ooh Them don't no have to respect me Ooh Them don't no have to come correctly Ooh Can't hear nothin' but the music I'm slippin' Big head nigga's don't listen Hot and ah yes My complex got a complex Livin' in apartment complex I'm cashin' chin checks every first and fifteenth Failed my urinalasist, they threw me in the clink 5-0's can't stop the pot roll, Jonny Still Blaze, send young mc's to the potty Its side ways nine fifteen Be aware of the fatal flyin' guilintines Are you prepared? [Chorus:] Ooh Them don't no have to respect me Ooh Them don't no have to come correctly Ooh Time flow constantly the way time flow I live by the code, style is mad P.L.O My crew swarm in, tell a bitch please Didn't mama tell you about the birds and the bees? Especially them killa's Girls night out with gorrillas (Meth acting like monkey) Too slow ya' blow catterpilla Son got game And he pack a Rosco, ?fleat coal? train Player we ain't playin' Crush assossiated labels, don't let me in, I push my way in... [Meth interupts with coughing] As I was sayin', I push my way in, fuck it How many suffered For this Hip-Hop, if I can't see it, can't trust it Tic-toc when will that fake shit stop? Flip flop battery go dead in the clock [Chorus:] Ooh Them don't no have to respect me Ooh Them don't no have to come correctly Ooh Can't hear nothin' but the music I'm slippin' Big head nigga's don't listen Stapleton, the wild west Park Hill Port Richmond, now born jungle nill We dumbin', stunnin', bustin' to keep 'em comin' Nigga's with alchahol problems, a hundred miles and runnin', yeah Meth, I came here for crooks but I'm still here Called me every name in the book but I'm still here What up doc? This Looney Toon got 'em shell shocked Anvils droppin' out the sky once my hand cock Back, I check you in to the smack down hotel, while everythings black I'm like the cast in Belly I don't know how to act on wax Rockwilder bring it on back [Chorus:] Ooh Them don't no have to respect me Ooh Them don't no have to come correctly Ooh Time flow constantly the way time flow I live by the code, style is mad P.L.O ************************************************** Sucker Mc’s[ODB] Daddy's home, your daddy's home to stay [Meth] Yo, yo, yo, yo, yo same time same channel Nasty vandals too hot to fucking handle Bring the ruckus to all you knotty head fuckas Shit's like Hammer Time, niggas can't touch us [RZA] Straight up and down Wu-Tang forever Come tougher than DJ ?'s leather Make a better tomorrow Condition your atmosphere, air like feathers The fire come, transmit vire come The higher sire come, we burn your wire Wu-Tang be number one... [Meth & RZA] Four years ago a friend of mine Asked me to say some MC rhymes So I said this rhyme I'm about to say The rhyme was Meth and it went this way Yo, we took a test to become an MC All the withers in the crowd got amazed at me God threw me inside his Cadillac The chaffuer drove off and we never came back Meth cut the record down to the bone And now I rock solid chrome microphones Now we signing autographs, with cheers and laughs Champagne, caviar, and bubblebaths, but see... That's the life that I lead, you sucka MC, we G-O-D Take that and move back, or catch a heartattack Because there's nothing in the world the gods could ever lack I chill at the party in my b-boy stance Walk, cap low, 45 in my pants Fly like a dove, that come from up above My nigga's Iron Lung but you can stay one love It's just a one two three a three a two one Throw your blunts in the air for the god Iron Lung Blow them right in your face with the bass You messed up, come in first place, the real rap taste First come, first serve basis Coolin out boo, take you to the def places One of a kind for you people's delight And to you sucker MC, you know it ain't right Bet you bite all your life, cheat on your wife Run in a gun fight with nuthin but a knife Bangin with your boy, slingin with the crew And everybody know what you've been through It's the one two three three two one Throw your blunts in the air for your dunn Iron Lung Smoke in your place with the highs and the bass Come in first place in the real rap race Go uptown, buy a bag of brown You sucker MC, a sad face clown Gettin OD ready to rock crowds steady You drive a big car get your gas from Getti [ODB] I'm ODB in the place to be Didn't go to St. John's University In the streets of Brooklyn I aquired the knowledge A Law of Mathematics that's higher than college I'm fly on skins that I gets in Queens She love filthy swine and my collard greens I'm dressed to kill, you know our style Cause niggas don't know that Dirty Dogg fly If you wanna see me baby come, you know Dirty Dog is number one [X2] I wrote this song about the (?) You gotta know where to start when the beats play [X2] ************************************************** Fire Ina HoleUh.. Come on [3X] State your business Come on Let's make it hot Come on (word) Let's make it hot Come on Let's make it hot Come on, let's make it hot (hardcore to make 'em rubbers at cold) Come on, come on [Verse 1: Method Man] [Verse 1: (method man)] With all do respect to tha game Im tha ph- enom , not ready for primetime , be on Extinction , change tha way u thinkin ,or be gone Pass tha fuck out , somethin stinkin Could it be tha skunk? or could it be that body In tha trunk? of my lincoln , continental style Pop tha pussy like a pimple Im fed up I put it in your ear and fuck ya head up Turnin up tha tempauture Told them kids to enta tha 36 Masta meth shiiit Biohazaduas is pretentious Do it for tha chemically imbalanced State ya business Pay me at tha door' Ironman hear me raw , 12 inches Sure shot soldiers in the trenches Fire in a hole The game commences Third string rappers play the benches Reload There'll be no repentance for soul Just life sentence with no change for parole And thats real [Chorus:] Fire in a hole! (pray [echoes]) Fire in a hole! [10X] Fire in a hole! (yeah) Fire in a hole! (yeah, yeah) Fire in a hole! (yo, yo, yo, yo) [Verse 2: Redman] Gundowned at sun down Run now from the bucks sound, touchdown Your crew wanna punt now, pump-bloww Swimming trunks torn up from the huntdown Brakes lock 'em up now A rich bitch smack 'em up now A plucked out eyebrow down Naa dog, a broad got to be a hussy A hood rat that ride like the bride of Chuckey Walk through my hood, your ?drools? is screamed: "Thug me" My revolver to reload like the Scussy, doc The bigfoot out for the squosh Shell shocked like I'm 6 months in the bush Fire in a hole! Hiking in the snow with 40 motherfuckers expiring the blow Footprints up timbs are wallabe souls We cased to placed like Barnaby Jones, hoes Lay it down like plats in ya hair Ride off with your money then clap in the air [Chorus:] Fire in a hole! Fire in a hole! (yo) Fire in a hole! [3X] Fire in a hole! (yo) Fire in a hole! Fire in a hole! (yo) Fire in a hole! (yo, yo, yo) [Verse 3: Method Man] This is for them niggas on the bricks Holdin' down a block for my nigga carlton fisk The kid that stay up in a blocks Ain't no christmas ever since Santa scratched my name off the giftlist Shit ain't been the same since the pain or forgiveness Dead man talkin' about elected Un live it cancer around throat of a critic Yo doctor, describe me a drug that can knocka' New on his ass, take a blast up a nucker For real though arsenic production that kills slow your eardrums Like a happy hooker with a dildo I spas on anyone who shows his ass I got the mob with me plus a full tank of gas [Verse 4: Redman] Yo, yo With me and meth swarm you need a net to cover you Turn a rap game into W C W Off the rope I hang glide to the grove Straight people doubt french fries and a coke Doc's the name the burglar, serve ya That lead through five from frigs and murtar They skirt out my with Rick ran down tires What a chicken I met who hand out flyers Look I'ma areas, I don't have it My crew large enough to walk and cause traffic Bounce like box springs on your craft-matic Before you be sueing doc for malpractice You couldn't bang from start Your girl see you beat up and shit Get a change of heart Flaming dark spit it, name a mark My impact towards you JFK playin' in a park [Chorus:] Fire in a hole! [14X] Yeah [3X] Fire in a hole Yeah [5X] Mister meth, ha-ha Funk doctor, ha-ha Mathematics on the track, ha-ha All my niggas in the bricks All my niggas on Shaolin Worldwide To my whole crew, BBC Hahhahahahaa.... ************************************************** I’m a G[Intro: Method Man] Ay-Yo, What up y'all? It's ya boy big Meth Y'all know how I do Motherfuckers I eat ya food up fast! I'm here representing for my nigga Kazh He comin' Through you know how i'm doin Word up ...... Van' city where you at? Get at ya' Boy early! [Chorus: Method Man] My chucks are scuffed up, Khakis hang low Mass amount of hoes, my rims and chain glow I'm all about my dough What bitch? You ain't know? 'I'm a G, the one these lil' niggas wanna be' Look, I'm on my A-Game niggas stay in ya lane Pump ya breaks fo' I pump two slugs straight in ya brain Look, I blow like K bitch you know the name 'I'm a G, the one these lil niggas wanna be' [Verse 1: Young Kazh] I'm out in Van' City on my Grizzly do Left them 2's alone but my goons pack chrome Listen the way I spit it, fly, photogenic Had your girl all up in the rental We sentimental Gentlemen'll clapped wassup? KC in the house lil ma' wassup? Although my people is lethal We came to party wit'cha Lil' weed, lil' hen, lil' bacardi wit'cha Dont make me ball out The four fitfth cal. and wile out Young Kazh, Mr Meth-Tical in the house Get ya Hands up! Shake yo titties, bounce yo ass to the rhythm Hot rhymes I spit, imagine the way i'm livin' Flights to the caribbean, party with fly women Cruises over seas, pockets full of G's Progress in the streets, gully I chase money Stackin, I'm still hungry Timbs are state [?] [Chorus: Method Man] My chucks are scuffed up, Khakis hang low Mass amount of hoes, my rims and chain glow I'm all about my dough What bitch? You ain't know? 'I'm a G, the one these lil niggas wanna be' Look, Im on my A-Game niggas stay in ya lane Pump ya breaks fo' I pump two slugs straight in ya brain Look, I blow like K bitch you know the name ''Im a G, the one these lil niggas wanna be' [Method Man - Spoken] What'up Shitty drawls ass niggas Its ya boy Big Meth right here Coming through with the SU You know how the W-U do it We ain't playing with y'all motherfuckers [Verse 2: Tre Nyce] Now if you got a fat spliff go and light it up I'm tryna hit a bad chick till I get a nut Then I get a nuf' Kush in the central, smoke till the jar empty On my A-Game [?] cases like Marc Emery Short term Memory Long term Money Each ear stay with a carrot like Bugz Bunny I know you haters mad that we gettin it man Van city got locked by Kuruption Camp And we, stay fly blowin kush to the sky Method Man, Redman, How high? Im a G nigga thats... No lie So when we in the club Know them bottles gon' pile Eyes like a hawk for them haters and vultures See us front page of your cannibis culture Touch it, take a pull girl I know that ya want to 3 way, U-tray this Marijuana [Chorus: Method Man] My chucks are scuffed up, Khakis hang low Mass amount of hoes, my rims and chain glow I'm all about my dough What bitch? You ain't know? 'I'm a G, the one these lil niggas wanna be' Look, Im on my A-Game niggas stay in ya lane Pump ya breaks fo' I pump two slugs straight in ya brain Look, I blow like K bitch you know the name 'I'm a G, the one these lil niggas wanna be' [Outro: Method Man - speaking] ************************************************** Serious[Verse 1: Hanz On] Hanz on he yo beast Meth lab we gon' feast Mad now call him Cheech Meth man got the keef Street lights in the building Wu bang for the children You know the stat and we the best Come meet these killers in the flesh [Method Man] 5 thousand dollars on the love sofa Stealing public houses with them love coca Still love the culture and them bud smokers But to my soldiers that cross line, that loves over See I ain't never wrote a raps over A loss cost but a win free, [?] Situation fishy like some bad chocha Or y'all just tryna twist me like some bad yoga [Hanz On] Park hills you know what it is Nowadays I got bills and kids Like bills in that type of shit These niggas busy tryna keep it lit Homie lying on the smartphone I'm tryna tell em need to stop holmes This shit ain't bout eating babies And have em have me acting crazy [Method Man] I'm too hot and still fire baby And 2pac is still alive baby I love my family cuz they mine baby They get to [?] Whatever happen to them crack babies Hello [?] smoking some crack maybe And I don't know where you rappers getting your batch lately Before you rappers, its a rap send in a fat lady [Instrumental] [Verse 2: Hanz On] Its like my killers they on call dog Do ya dirty call ya boss hog Terminate em like a loss job I see his death to all these fake frauds I swear to god I'm so serious Got me getting these guns if you curious I said the stat and we the best From killing out here to the west [Method Man] Got labels calling cuz I rhyme slick You, you never get the ring, you like a side chick Ask berry crock where them pies trick The dark knight and I'm back robin no sidekick See I ain't lying when that lie lit I touch a cloud, it only raise when I spit I'm tryna tell these rappers when I spit Update the app in yo Iphones like Iquick ************************************************** Kane’s Theme* This is an alternate take from the promo version of "WWF Aggression" [Method Man] Ah-ahhowwwwwwwwww! We are... here... To lay this boy... to rest... And so shall you... Be put, to death... [Method Man] Beware of the six-six-six So morbid and twisted I'm sick, sick, sick Mad and sadistic, dark like sun when it eclipses Grab your crucifixes and RUN... From the hellfire fiend, The Big Red Machine Heads get chopped in the guillotine, burnt in kerosene Now you don't believe in the unseen By any means necessary back to the cemetary IT'S KANE! Chorus: Method Man Unstoppable, unconquerable - impossible, unstoppable Unstoppable, unconquerable - impossible, unstoppable (It's KANE!) Unstoppable, unconquerable - impossible, unstoppable Unstoppable, unconquerable - impossible, unstoppable [Method Man] I rise from the tomb A quarter pass midnight, full moon The theme music kicks in, you'rre doomed Soon comes the bell, it's me against you in a cage match cell You get a chokeslam from hell LOOK OUT! Great balls of fire, no doubt My flame can't be doused, this is what pain's about Lock all the doors and the windows in your house Night of the Grim Reaper, tales from the Crypt Keeper IT'S KANE! Chorus [Method Man] Feel the tombstone piledriver You hit the floor, thankin God you're alive-ah Hail Mary take no prisoners and no survivors Found scary like a convoy of drunk drivers, ahhhhhhhowww Tragic, that old black magic A-tisket-a-tasket, a coffin or a casket Grateful Dead, nightmares that make you wet the bed Visions of bloodshed dancing through your head IT'S KANE! Chorus 1/2 {*Method Man grunts and growls*} IT'S KANE! (2X) Unstoppable, unconquerable - impossible, unstoppable Unstoppable, unconquerable - impossible, unstoppable {*Meth babbles on until fade*} ************************************************** Buck 50[Method Man] Supreme Clientele Who on this? The Fenon, them niggas can't live Who on this? We ain't got shit, Summin Gotz ta Give Y'll done flipped y'all wig, blacked out the kid Die and live for my nigs and my bad ass kids Freeze [sniff], lookin at your ice like please Plottin on the mouse trap, about to snatch the cheese I heard y'all kids is 'bout that, psycho therapy Fuckin, where the cow chat? Blue till they bury me Never tell a lie, like George with the cherry tree Now it's cherry pie, if it's not broke, let it be Ain't nuttin nice in, New York, stick ya for ya cake and ya icin All that tough talk don't mean nuttin when ya up north So keep them hands where I can see them like ya want freedom You know that sayin, if ya can't join 'em Beat 'em and push ya way in We ain't acrobats but we flip on occasion Pick the Pace up, past snaggin, throw your waist up Niggas writin slum juice with Jacob, fool You're like dude, I don't like your fuckin attitude Frontin on my Clan from Shao', we ain't mad at you [Ghostface Killah] Yo, Starks dippin cheesy face, meesly pace Ghostface, jump out the window for a little taste Droopy luck, my main bitches call me lazy Educated birds say, "Ghost, you're so crazy" [Cappadonna] Cappa slide thru with the Ghost Post up like paint on walls Drip jew-els, big heat ruffle inside the bubble-goose It's the odd couple, holo-points follow you home in Staten Island Playin with the big toys that make noise Echo in the hall, a scared voice Niggas start to act choice, but Dunkin 'hinds Didn't know Betty Crocker had them two nines Made the club moist, shattered the windows Dust heads runnin, the black kingpin buzz the Black Jesus [Redman] Yo, the words you talk better be the words you walk Body you in the van while the nurse is off Put your vein out, watch me insert the dart Till it bleeds from Bricks to the Persian Gulf Light curcuits off, thirty-third if my brain is off That explains why my language off My gun aim and cough, y'all ain't trained to brawl Y'all more like them training bras Wet behind the ear, you're not prepared For the project flow, with extra stares I pass out a vest to wear (bullets'll fly) Yo, a hard wire, startin bonfires Pullin mask, so you know it's me Your weave got more seeds than odb Can't smoke wit'cha, watch Ghost tie rope to ya Def and Wu will open ya [Method Man] Your shit lice Baby shake your shit 'fore your shit lice Get rich like... [Ghostface Killah] Word, it's me y'all We in two sixes, flirtin with bitches Dime plush, takin pictures "How you doin baby, my name's Ghost Don't get caught up in my chains or the way that I speak" Seek intelligence, slickest nigga doin it since Grease Check out the greys on the side of my waves, my crew doze on Riker's Island Stretched out, malled up in the cage Pull a? Out on Jimmy Jam, shakes Space Jam Silky texture, Jordan jumped up like Clyde Drexler All up in the parrot, nose numb, real as they come Biggie's Versacis, Snow White rabbit Hands is like photographic magic Funeral love, boohoo when we hug, don't make it a habit Hit the gym in two weeks, my back all chisseled Elbows unique now, meet the new me Ghetto fabulous, Tony Atlas Zulu Nation in the 80's, in front of Masey's I start my own Chapters Tyco, Nike glow, velvet pose Special effects, high-tech armors, murk you after shows Supercalifragilisticexbealidosious Ghost'll hollar exbefragilisticcalisuper Cancoon, catch me in the room eatin group up [Method Man] Shoe fly shoe, Wally dark Clark crew Fuck y'all wan' do? Crack a brew, smoke an L or two And flip like, yellin for the whole click, it's sick like The way yo' stank bitch eat a dick like Baby shake yo' shit, hold yo' dick like Gettin rich like.. ************************************************** No HooksRZA: Spectacular cardiovascular attacker! Shaq's on the track with the blackular Puzzler! Rugged slugger, 40 oz guzzla Gold nugget fangs punch holes inside your jugular Veins... do it quick nicca bi**h, before your brain get drained... With the horror you now have become stained... Ice cold, like the winter, Eskimo! Enter The skill like a splinter! A decimal Let's have a festival, Wu-Tang Killer Bees, we... (Suuuuuuu!) Ah, intellectual Styles break your mind! Shine, nigga, shine! All: We don't need no hooks! Shaq: The Shaq Attaq has risen Au concrete PM this is twizm Always & forever, forever always attack I bring flava to ya ear like Craig Mack! Life's a B and then ya D, refer to Nasty Nas Illmatic CD, #3 Static! You don't want none, ya best to keep lookin' AEIOU's a ass-whoopin'! You're tooken Into Clear & Present Danger, I'm a perfect stranger Quick to rearrange a... outlook, so look out So here me comes! Quick to beat you down Like the RZA on the drums! Change my name like Prince, punks be tremblin' My name ain't Shaq no more, call me Superman Emblem! Marks, get set, go left The Shaq, the RZA, get ready for the Meth! All: We don't need no hooks! Method Man: Dangersome, comin' mad phat, Terrordome Like whadva ak, we can get it on. Break 'em down I'm a set it, yeah, ooh dat dirty rat, bring 'em here To the mindbender, the deathsender to your ear: Method Whatup, hookers? Hoodrats are no goodaz It be Tical breakin' rims with the Seven footer: Shaq. Bring it to the front, now bring it back To the head, black, 'cuz when my Soul Train hit the track Target: the Billboard Charts, don't make me start it The whole industry is gassed up and now they farted My object is destruction, for percussion, rhymes are bustin' Got your wholes block duckin' Down! The end is here, apocalypse now! Gettin' shot, peace'll work it out (more We don't need no hooks stuff) ************************************************** Outro[Verse 1] A-yo, everybody get the fuck out! Right now! The Meth Lab is closed, Crystal Meth coming soon! Shout out 3rd Digala ************************************************** Method Man - PLO Style (REMIX)Here come the Ruckus ************************************************** Dat’s Dat Shit, Young Zee) [Method Man] Uh, get ya stank on [Radio voice] WWKYA, WE'RE KICKIN YOUR ASS! [Mally G/Jamal] My receitals is worth ten titles I shit on wrote Bibles, if you don't like me I don't like you I liable to load the rifle, hit the roof and snipe you The shit I spit damaging your vitals Nobody ride through like my squad do Got all y'all players suicidal Actin niggas, take two You heard the news, I'ma break it to ya We're here to headline the bill and Featuring Funk Doc, Tical and the villain A mic murder for hire, ten grand a killin Yo Funk Doc, pass the Glock, this bitch nigga grillin I make moves wit my big dog ?bounce? Staten Island to the Bricks for mo' chips and mo' pounds Y'all know who really lockin this shit down When we rock it, don't we all stand out? Y'all hazardarious, clear out Get ya ass out 'fore I tear it out And show you what I'm talkin 'bout [Chorus: Redman, Method Man (Young Zee)] Yo get ya up and get ya high, ha! Get ya stoned and get ya wide Dat's dat shit (like or not, niggas sleepin wit the fifth) Dat's dat shit (like or not, bitches fightin over dick) Aiyyo we get ya up and get ya high (yeah) Get ya stoned and get ya wide Dat's dat shit (like or not, niggas sleepin wit the fifth) Dat's dat shit (like or not, bitches fightin over dick) [Redman] I'm high-powered, the dog rott weiler Chocolate thai showers got Doc cookin minute rice for five hours You wet cowards, I'm live wire Ya bitch ass probably wash ya hands wit Palmolive Yo Bricks holler, I got the plan printed Load it and it goes like summer jam tickets Fam can't dig it, pop goes the wea-sel You be hidin under your peacoat wit people I told cops, roll blocks, no props Fo' pops, Hennesy back and we both shot That's how we go out, are you the thug type? To ride down like Hopper from a Bug Life? Watch the movie, haters tried to eye screw D Your beef in small claims court, Judge Judy When you and I meet up, the fight heat up Bloody up ya wife beater then light weed up [Chorus] [Method Man] I melt wax, Cuban Link chain react Breezin through these tracks wit the highest of velocity Play me like Monopoly Pay me everytime you trespass on my property I'm Dick Dastardly, no use in cop blockin me Sloppily, your woman on the stop-watch clockin me Possibly I rock well, somebody always watchin me Livin in the street life, my eyes seen atrocity Undress a kid properly When I keeps it movin that means there ain't no stoppin me Constant motivation, the god fiend bury kings Proper education, Allah sees everything How High, just another form of elevation That's why I choose to build from the basement Twelve-thirty-one-ninety-nine, times are wastin More these Hot Dog MC's next to Nathan Allah Math, break the phonograph in half Promoters on some bullshit, short wit Johhny cash (Dat's dat shit) They got snitches rattin on the click (Dat's dat shit) They got bitches fightin over dick WHERE THE LOVE AT, when you're young, broke and black It's over there, in the ashtray, who got a match? [Chorus] [Young Zee] Yeah yeah yeah, Young Zee got bitches fightin over dick [Redman] Get ya up and get ya high Funk Doc got bitches fightin over dick [Method Man] Yeah yeah yeah yeah, Meth-Tical got bitches fightin over dick [Redman (Young Zee)] Get ya up and get ya high (All y'all stupid bitches keep fightin over dick) Get ya stoned and get ya wide Get ya up and get ya high (HIIIIIGH!) Get ya stoned and get ya wide wide (Yeah yeah) Get ya stoned and get ya high (Fightin over dick) Get ya stoned and get ya high ha Get ya up and get ya high ha (Fightin over dick) Get ya stoned and get ya high ha ************************************************** The Setup (2004 Tim Westwood Freestyle)[Verse 1: Method Man] Yes I'm in the place for sure! Yeah, yeah, yeah 'Til crime pays up John Blaze up I'm hella hot Get that weight up This nigga straight up Like twelve o' clock [?] up I mixed it with [?] To blow the cake up Bet on Jacob Might wake up Gagged and taped up It's us Older than dirt We fart dust Plus we can't get enough of this In God we trust That's big bucks I drive a big-ass truck That's just big enough for a big-ass butt Errday, (everyday) follow my lead And errday, (everyday) I keep weed Like all that I need is Mary J Want mo' pay Gimme mo' chips than Frito-Lay So any thoughts of sinking my ship is D.O.A That's right family, understand me? I boombayeh where you lay, family Like Miami, be M.I.A Now how high? So high that I can kiss the sky Who wanna (kiss) be the next ass that's kissed goodbye? Speaking my piece, before ya fix ya lips to try I'm hotter than greese And I got bigger fish to fry In this cold world, no tellin' who's supplying the heat Who put niggas on Elm Street and hope they die in they sleep? I got my sword on, not a average sendin' me in What oxymorons, this is where your ending begin That's just a method If it ain't, I ain't saying it is Some call me father like a priest, but I ain't playin' with kids Pass the dutch, my blood pressure that's what's up And that shit that y'all was writing all day... That's my nuts Stay focused, stay in ya lane I swing a hook like Candyman If ya sayin' my name Ain't nuthin' change [Verse 2: Method Man] Ya know why? Cause that tough talk 'ill get ya nowhere fast Champagne bottled if ya go there smash Hits after midnight and still cash rule I'm lovin' Cinderella and her one glass shoe I'm is what I'm is and that's all that I'm is I've been spoiled, my kids called it like it is Watch out now, who buyed his milk as a cow? And his fat farm come with a hoe and a plow That leave you sleepy Defeat me, how? You greasy, yo' bitch got a eye on her knee They call her "Kneesee" Ten years and counting It's been me and these two balls now And we ain't thinking bout bouncing The show ain't over 'til the fat lady sings 'Til then, I'll see more ass than a fat lady('s) jeans Folks wanna picture me broke, watch the birdie Then let's get dirty like Westwood and Jersey Come on ************************************************** A Special Joint (Intro)[Redman]: Do you want to get high man? [Method Man]: I see em. Does Pinochio have wooden balls man? [Redman]: Well yo, I got a joint I've been saving here for a special occasion [Method Man]: Ahh, niggas, bitches, welcome. A full tank of gas, a pound of weed, a bird called Pinky. To the East, driver to the East. Funk Doctor and the Phino By the way, this is protected by the red, the track, and Tical. With the key [Redman]: Oh shit where the keys at? ************************************************** All I Need (Bad Boy mix)Chorus: You're all that I need, I'll be there for you If you keep it real with me, I'll keep it real witchu Loving your whole schemes, it be in there boo On top of that you got the good power-U Verse One: Check it out Shorty I'm there for you anytime you need me For real girl, it's me in your world, believe me Nuttin make a man feel better than a woman Queen with a crown that be down for whatever There are few things that's forever, my lady We can make war or make babies Back when I was nuttin You made a brother feel like he was something That's why I'm with you to this day boo no frontin Even when the skies were gray You would rub me on my back and say "Baby it'll be okay" Now that's real to a brother like me baby Never ever give my pussy away and keep it tight aight And I'ma walk these dogs so we can live In a fat ass crib with thousands of kids Word life you don't need a ring to be my wife Just be there for me I'm a make sure we Be livin in the fucking lap of luxury I'm realizing that cha didn't have to fuck with me But cha did now I'm going all out kid And I got mad love to give, you my nigga Chorus 2X Verse Two: I got a love jonz for your body and your skin tone Five minutes alone I'm already on the bone Plus I love the fact you got a mind of your own No need to shop around you got the good shit at home Even if I'm locked up North you in the world Rockin three-fourths of cloth never showin your stuff off, boo It be true me for you that's how it is I can be your Noah you can be my Wiz Then I can be your Sun, you can be my Earth Resurrect the God through birth Best believe Chorus 2X ************************************************** Meth V.S. Chef Part IIYo, blow my nose for me, man Word up, man (f*ck them) Spit in your mouth, piss on your bitch We them wrist getters, everything real bout this, duke You f*cking with them niggas that's splashed up, slave master's master Dumb move, blast your slut We want it all, living in Persia, burn something Snow White rose, bulldog ershkama Yo take that, drive that around the corner Yeah, shit on your crew, nigga, it's Wu Rap athletes, the trap sheet bigger than you If you ask me, the Cash Rule Nigga, eat that pussy, you cat food I sneeze on the track, get at you I'm sick in the head, I'm getting some head If she ain't bout getting some bread, don't get in this bed Real talk, mami, you gotta bounce Wild like Indians, Al Capone-ians Not from Chicago, my gun named Margo It's only when we in beef, we humble in deep Might kill four-five niggas, die in my sleep I argue though, who the best, we hardly know I came through in the S, wash me, yo Yo, yo, do that for me, go around that car Niggas, digging they nose, and digging they ass When I got chips, can't none of ya'll dig in my bag I pop shit, my killas is black, I got chicks that got chicks My real world realer than rap I'm hot, bitch, material, Meth, beyond lyrical Wake up every morning eat that Captain Crunch cereal That's that shit right there Dick game super, grupa fish, Cris' Krug' lottos I'm a bring it back, one wish Fresh to death, I'm always, always Rae in the hallways Yeah, always stay Ya'll rappers gon' feel my pain, but the other way around When it's going down, I'm gon' rain That's my chair, nigga, get the f*ck out of it Yo, f*ck you, pay me, if Dirt Dog could see me now He'd probably say "F*ck you, pay me" Blowing smoke clouds, shit's crazy Doorag your dome, get wavy, rap ain't done shit for me lately It's ass backwards, this game trynna play me I bet this never happens to Jay-Z Get money, f*ck them haters, real talk Pay me, play me, weigh he, just the right measurement This may happen in a day, G I'm a keep it real, for real G's, niggas is lame Industry pussies, we can't feel these Regardless that I'm paid in flossy, rich in the mind I do this for the nine niggas who forced me Ya'll niggas is playing me, man ************************************************** Say (radio)[Lauryn][Method Man] Yeah yeah, yeah yeah yeah Yeah, yeah yeah, yeah yeah yeah Yeah (Yeah) Yeah yeah (Yo) [Method Man] Damn, I hate it when it rain Ever since I came in the game Some hated on the fame A lot of niggas done changed And started actin' strange Even labels turning they backs And started backing lames Radio is the same, whole lotta speculatin' These mutherfuckas defacatin' on the name Wu-Tang, if this is where the hip-hop is Radio lyin' then, that ain't where hip-hop live It lives in the streets, we eat to live they livin' to eat I'm fed up, that nigga rides in 'em, givin 'em sleep R.I.P., make me the king of all I see And when death call I'm good I got call ID See it was planned in the front, now they just gon' front Like my joints is on proactive, and they just don't bump Then niggas gon' say I lost my skill When in fact they all been programmed And lost they feel, fo' real Chorus: [Lauryn](Method Man] They've got so much things to say right now They've got so much things to say They've got so much things to say right now (Yeah) They got so much things to say (Yo) [Method Man] Damn, another artist chokes again They ain't cut as close as him or even broke the skin See how niggas ain't yo friends, when there ain't no ends Don't care who the case offend, don't underrate my pen I got what it takes to win, while ya'll are thinking I'm trash Loving the taste of success and this drink in my glass Watch 'em cosign that whack shit, give it a pass till it's gone Quicker than Red, can't get rid of them clubs When they're wrong, call the cops, they credibility's shot It's time to learn, what hot really is and really is not Off brain niggas, Meth gonna let 'em know off top Don't get smacked on dvds, trying to show off blocks I can't stop cause my enemies plot, or cause the cops want me Shackled and locked inside the penalty box And while they waitin' for my shit to flop They gettin' pimped like hoes Sellin' they ass just to get my spot, come on man Repeat Chorus [Method Man] Ask Miss Hill, half these critics ain't got half this skill Often so hungry that they have to steal If I didn't have my deal, and didn't have this mass appeal Then I'm back up in that trap, swingin' crack it's real And that ain't worth the time, so search and find a new nerve And here's three words: stop working mine It take a lot more to hurt my pride Jerk my vibe more than media lies, cry when dirt dog die nigga The last album wasn't feeling my style This time my foot up in they ass but they feelin' me now Cause Tical, he put his heart in every track he do But somehow yall find someway to give a whack review It ain't all good, they writin' that I'm Hollywood Tryin' to tell you my shit ain't ghetto and they hardly hood Come on man, until you dudes can write some rhymes Keep that in mind when you find yourself reciting mines Repeat Chorus ************************************************** Reporting From The Slums[Intro: Rebecca Raines] Should I, could I try to say That I want you every way? Should I, could I try to say? [Verse 1: Yah-Sin] Another pack to sell, another crack that got knocked in jailed While others layin' with the daffodils Fuck around and seen the cops was the ones busting At your head, damn, little nigga, you ain't done nothing Store trips turnin' into corpses More sips of that Henny spilled, debts are costin' Of course it's Yah-Sin again, makin' fans tremblin' And skin 'em and, known to meditate and count Benjamins Word to mommy or whoever maker You've been climbin' up the stairs, I'm an elevator, tell your neighbor That hater attitude is keepin' us down They wanna know my secrets now Everybody searchin' for a deeper sound [Hook] I'm reportin' from the slums right now Another mother, someone just shot down The way she cried was a frightening sound Man this shit gotta stop somehow I'm reportin' from the hood right now Another momma, someone's just shot down The way she cried was a frightening sound Man this shit gotta stop somehow It's gotta be a better way out [Verse 2: Method Man] Staten Island is iller, off the island they feel us Some people might not get us but they don't doubt that we're killers The system tryna kill us cause they don't doubt we're guerrillas He home after that body then we don't doubt he a squealer The dealers, everybody wants nice things The realest get murdered over money and dice games, I get it If your trap life's a gimmick then everybody a critic That's a nice place to visit but they ain't tryin' to live it Raw is how I give it like UG Cops be askin' questions like, "Who's he?" But I ain't sellin' no loosies Brother when you walk in that room past, you lose me That's why we never kick it like Bruce Lee [Hook] I'm reportin' from the slums right now Another mother, someone just shot down The way she cried was a frightening sound Man this shit gotta stop somehow I'm reportin' from the hood right now Another momma, someone's just shot down The way she cried was a frightening sound Man this shit gotta stop somehow It's gotta be a better way out [Verse 3: Spank] Sufferin' reality, perseverin' my salary Trapped inside the drama like lookin' at Grey's Anatomy Thinkin' of ways to capture the plan the creator have for me It's principles when you the one takin' care of your faculty Test tube, baby, the meth lab, the left jab Right hook feel like I million dollars in X tabs Gotta be a better way, llamas with me every day It's goin' down everywhere, I'm laughin' while they let it spray Real niggas' mamas cry, real niggas gotta ride Some call it revenge, but still it's a homicide Wonder how their father feel, will real niggas shed a tear? Or do they only shed blood? They feel like they're forever feared [Hook] I'm reportin' from the slums right now Another mother, someone just shot down The way she cried was a frightening sound Man this shit gotta stop somehow I'm reportin' from the hood right now Another momma, someone's just shot down The way she cried was a frightening sound Man this shit gotta stop somehow It's gotta be a better way out ************************************************** Hey ZuluTurn the beat up a little bit Got to get that part, baby I'mma do it like this, baby, I don't give a f*ck, baby Yo, yo I walk in the spot, and I see niggas standing 'round So I ask what's going down Got a girl in the back, a blunt in the mouth And a chain on my neck, hang to the ground Hey, I said how you feel? Baby look tough with a gangsta grill I ain't rich, but I pay my bill I'm like Jay, I'm trying to drop me 'a mil' My hood tripping, chrome wheel whipping With all these hoes, you can tell I'm slipping Shots of Patron, got bird eye vision Even broke niggas wanna learn my pimping Yeah, yo, let's be clear You're unaware what's in the underwear She said 'yeah', I said 'yeah' Pulled the purp' out and put it in the air Aiyo, I smell something burning up So I throw it up, and I put it in the air (Tell that DJ, turn it up While I roll it up, and I, put it in the air) {Higher, we gon' take it, higher, watch me move it Higher, we put money in the air} Put, put, put, put Put it in the air When I come up in the club, and I see my niggas on the wall And I'm like 'yo, what's wrong with ya'll ?' Got these girls in the spot, and I don't care if she a bird or not Cuz I ain't really trynna talk to ya'll Got a pocket full of stones, grown with a pocket full of bones I'm a class act, I follow with the chrome Lane switching, got your misses on the phone Baby girl, turn ya head and teeth missing out her comb Look, I want this money off the books Little kush, and a Playboy bunny that can cook You wan't the truth? Man, you f*cking with a crook But these niggas want the juice, now they f*cking up the jooks Jimmy Crack Corn, and I don't muthaf*cking care Cuz the green is the only thing puffin' over here So be clear, put this bug up in your ear Meth and Doc put it down, yo, put it in the air A dude like me, keep a boom boom in the truck So you hear Doc rolling up Middle finger in the air, to my haters, yo, what's up? You can tell Doc f*ck shit up Hey, nigga, I'm so hood My hand on the pump, niggas understood Bitch, I'm no good, I swear Light shit up like Times Square, put it in the air I got a bottle of Patron, I'm the only one that spent that cash But everybody try to get they glass Now we can all have a drink, if you trying to put some dough in the bank But if not, ya'll can kiss my ass I need a, Cinderella that can give me the loot Better yet, a French vanilla that can give me the scoop Oh yeah, just so we clear, put this bug up in your ear Meth and Doc put it down, yo, put it in the air ************************************************** All I Need (LP version)Chorus: You're all that I need, I'll be there for you If you keep it real with me, I'll keep it real witchu Loving your whole schemes, it be in there boo On top of that you got the good power-U Verse One: Check it out Shorty I'm there for you anytime you need me For real girl, it's me in your world, believe me Nuttin make a man feel better than a woman Queen with a crown that be down for whatever There are few things that's forever, my lady We can make war or make babies Back when I was nuttin You made a brother feel like he was something That's why I'm with you to this day boo no frontin Even when the skies were gray You would rub me on my back and say "Baby it'll be okay" Now that's real to a brother like me baby Never ever give my pussy away and keep it tight aight And I'ma walk these dogs so we can live In a fat ass crib with thousands of kids Word life you don't need a ring to be my wife Just be there for me I'm a make sure we Be livin in the fucking lap of luxury I'm realizing that cha didn't have to fuck with me But cha did now I'm going all out kid And I got mad love to give, you my nigga Chorus 2X Verse Two: I got a love jonz for your body and your skin tone Five minutes alone I'm already on the bone Plus I love the fact you got a mind of your own No need to shop around you got the good shit at home Even if I'm locked up North you in the world Rockin three-fourths of cloth never showin your stuff off, boo It be true me for you that's how it is I can be your Noah you can be my Wiz Then I can be your Sun, you can be my Earth Resurrect the God through birth Best believe Chorus 2X ************************************************** How Bout DatYo, I hit the 'freeway' after I 'rock the mic' Light up like Showtime when they about to fight How bout dat, boy, when that truck ride 38's Your middle finger up at the light, I'm nice Doc ride or die, I bubble up when the pouring peroxide It's dirty, lookie here Still sharp like I'm back in school It's like Wonder Blade, cut a nigga smooth Whoo-whoo-whoo-whoo, who let the dog loose? Whips and chains, I don't wanna argue The big whale that's writing fishscale Like me, better believe, I'm too hard to harpoon My goons, think like Chris Wallace 'Give me the loot' and I don't wanna talk about it When my niggas 'get 'em', that's when I Crush the building, how about that? Look at my shoes, how about that, nigga? (My car, how about that, nigga?) {Getting money, how about that, nigga?} ************************************************** Got My Mind Made Up[Verse One: Daz] You find an mc like me who's strong Leavin motherfucker's aborted, with no verbal support And when I command the microphone I gets deadly as Kahn though With a bear and a snake and a panda, I'm on those Who can withstand, the mo' power I gain And make it possible for me to drop a few to wreck ya brain Imagine and keep on wishin upon a star Finally realizing who the fuck we are When I penetrate, it's been withstandin, faded Would it be the greatest mc of all time When I created rhyme for the simple fact When I attack I crush your pride My intention to ride, every time all night I'm faced with the scars beyond this one bar For me to put down my guard, I'm faced with it, I'm a ride Breakin in gas with the six-eight all day In and out with my pay I'm soon to count the bodies... [Verse Two: 2Pac] So mandatory my elevation my lyrics like orientation So you can be more familiar with tha nigga you facin We must be based on nothin better than communication Known to damage and highly flamable like gas stations Sorry I left that ass waitin No more procrastination give up to fate, and get that asss shakin I'm bustin and makin motherfuckers panic Don't take ya life for granted put that ass in the dirt You swear the bitch was planted My lyrics motivate the planet It's similar to Rhythm Nation But ************************************************** Konichiwa Bi**chesKonichiwa bi*ches Konichiwa bi*ches What up, what up, these n****z suck? They can't hold a fort, better hold that thought, B If I can't get it off, see my attitude is MSG F*** it, I'm salty, the game been loss me Pay ya dues, it cost me, who acting like I'm past my prime Hey Carlton Fisk, n****, pass the nine, who wanna cross me, now? And put my body in the lost and found You with the business, then bust off a round It's like the passions of Christ, get crucified just for having that ice And the audacity for having that life, while n****z starving and s*** The main reason they be robbing and s*** The same reason you've been targeted b**** (These n****z must of forgot) The thin line between a hoe and a trick Give 'em the clip between the four and the fifth (Yea, motherf***er I'm high) There I go again, blowing a spliff When I exhale, it's like I'm blowing a kiss (Konichiwa bi*ches) N.Y.C., is all I see, O.D.B., n****, R.I.P (Konichiwa bi*ches) This Killa Beez on ya M.I.C., you want it all Well, then y'all like me (Konichiwa bi*ches) Come on, come on, I think they playing my song I came to blow them out the frame and I'm gone (Konichiwa bi*ches) M E T, to the H O D, why motherf***ers wanna hate on me? (Konichiwa bi*ches) For every rhyme, there's a hair on my chest Scared of the Man, you should be scared of the Meth Now every damn that I drop, is homicidal, that could dare to be done There's no survival, now who care to be next? (If you don't know me by now) Know where the borough is, doing it for The most thoroughest, you doing the most, pa The French call it "forpa" when f***ing with son The odds a hundred to none, too many flavors Y'all ain't f***ing with one It's getting deep, see the plot thicker No place to be, if you b*****, n**** Outside the Clan, we always got RZA I put it down, like I don't give a One in the head, I bet he don't get up We drinking malt liquor out of your Benz Just to talk slicker then paint a scene that you can all picture You going in? Well, let me walk with cha It's Method Man, but for short Mr., Mef (Konichiwa bi*ches) N.Y.C., is all I see, O.D.B., n****, R.I.P (Konichiwa bi*ches) This Killa Beez on ya M.I.C., you want it all Well, then y'all like me (Konichiwa bi*ches) Come on, come on, I think they playing my song I came to blow them out the frame and I'm gone (Konichiwa bi*ches) M E T, to the H O D, why motherf***ers wanna hate on me? (Konichiwa bi*ches) Konichiwa bi*ches Konichiwa bi*ches Konichiwa bi*ches Konichiwa bi*ches ************************************************** Uh Huh (remix) (produced by J-Love)"Bus driver -- this here gal refused to give me her seat!" [Intro: Method Man] Everybody... huh, yeah Yeah, uh, uh, uh, now, uh, yeah, yo [Method Man] What up my people equal?, this be Tical: The Prequel Shine up the desert eagle, light up that extra lethal I mean that "ooh wee", three years and two g's I'm back with new trees, I wrapped in loose leafs While ya'll was just rappin', who get the set crackin'? Just like a neck snappin', let's get this next platinum What's happ'n Def Jam? Remember Meth Man? I held your hand through them years when ya'll was stressed, fam That's why I still love you and Russell still hustle Let's get to pumpin' iron, and flex some real muscle Up in this bitch due, my click is Rick Rude And I ain't got the ivory, this ain't the flick, dude Somebody told me, ya'll can't hold me Naughty By Nature, do my dirt all by my lonely You need back off bitch, you don't know me Got to leave these hoes alone, they too nosey [Chorus: Method Man] Meth is killin', M.C. killin' What more can I say, stop grillin' That's what niggas get for actin' Hollywood And since ya'll understood... would you? Would you? Would you? Would you? Uh huh, that dollar day, that dollar dollar day, ey That dollar day, that dollar dollar day, ey [Method Man] Ok, the love issue, don't let that love get you My brothers love pistol, doin' they thug dizzle Bet ya'll ain't know, did you?, that I'm a pro, did you? Until the flow hit you, fuck it, I'm official Bone wit more gristle, thrown from chrome nickel Place that don't tickle, can't wait to zone wit you I'm hard as stone chisel, Meth got his own little Formula to go triple -- for shizzle Ya'll know my occupation, I'm puttin' in the work So any imitation, I'm puttin' in the dirt That shit is aggravatin', why ya'll procrastinatin' I got some massive waitin', and she probably masturbatin' Welcome to New Yitty, where half is two fifty If I got a problem, then that's one problem too many So don't tempt me, I'll bust until I'm empty Swiftly, that way, I get the chance to take you with me, muthafucka! [Chorus] [Method Man] Yo, I got style, H rap round, back up and back down Act up, we back clown, last up to bat now It's me Ticallion, swing like Barry Bonds Mommy got a ratty thong, happy cuz daddy gone Turn it up it a little bit, a notch, and it'll get Cook it once the griddle gets so hot, good lookin' kid Ok, now where was I? Prepared, was I Your man broke his jaw tryin' to say what I Say on this mic, not a day in your life, could ya Say I ain't nice, could ya? If I ain't nice, would ya? Get off my dick and tell your bitch to come her, she stuntin' Can hear me "cummin'" like my dick's in her ear or somethin' I put that on my momma, she put that on her kids He put that chrome on your dome and blowed ya fuckin' wig That's how it is, ask Bobby Dig' We back on your block, with 'nuff shots to give, muthafucka! [Chorus 2X] ************************************************** Intro (Tical 0: The Prequel )(rza) Yeah what up yo This is the rza aka buddah zig zag in tha law I wanna run the ultima tical The prequel Starring wu tang brotha numbah 1 The m-e-t-h-o-you-n Aka johnny blaze Aka hot nicks the iron lung Big john studd johnny storm Check it out yo Our brother meth is about to take you on some wuddah And the unswarn chambers of the wu tang universe So I want all my nizza wit all my wizards Big big bag of rizza ticuriny and blizzards And sit back as johnny blaze takes you on a ride to the upper side Piece of the wu tang family Ten years strong forty for your albums sold Platinumb gold and the sagas continue (johnny blaze) Alright lets do it ************************************************** Where’s Method Man?Satayin ed lover on the microphone, BLAZIN hittin you in your head yo That was a fat joint that was the Wu-Tang dude ha hoo ha hoo ha word up Man, speakin of the Wu-Tang where the f**k is method man?! i mean god Damn how long is it going to take one nigga to make another album, i Mean come on i'm sittin here scratching my BALLS, dog i'm thirsty, i got A big cup of Method Man lemon aid right here nigga, i need to drink this Shit, hit me with another album dog, anybody seen this motherf**ker? Imean somebody call me somebody from staton island, long island, i don't Give a f**k if you from warchester massachussettes, if you see method Man, get at a nigga so i know wear he at man Meth! when you gonna do Another album? Mr. Tical, Johnny Blaze, method man ktallion stallion Flyin glyion what ever you call your f**kin self, could you please hit These niggas with another album please, i bet you he somewhere getting Blazed up with redman, you know what meth you don't want to make another Album, ah you know what you don't want to make another album, f**k you Whatever man ************************************************** Bring the Pain (Chemical Brothers Remix)[Intro: Method Man] Chemical, brothers Chemical, brothers [Verse 1: Method Man] I came to bring the pain hardcore from the brain Let's go inside my astral plane Find out my mental, based on instrumental Records, hey, so I can write monumental Methods, I'm not the King But niggas is decaf, I stick 'em for the CREAM Check it, just how deep can shit get Deep as the abyss and brothers is mad fish accept it In your Cross Colour clothes, you've crossed over Then got Totally Krossed Out and Kris Krossed Who da boss? Niggas get tossed to the side And I'm the dark side of the Forcе Of course it's the Method, Man from thе Wu-Tang Clan I be hectic, and comin' for the head piece, protect it Fuck it, two tears in a bucket, niggas want the ruckus Bustin' at me, bruh, now bust it Quick on the draw with my hands on the four- Nine-three-eleven with the rugged rhymes galore Check it, 'cause I think not when this hip-hops like proper Rhymes be the proof while I'm drinkin' 90 proof Huh, vodka, no OJ, no straw When you give it to me, ayy, give it to me raw I've learned when you drink Absolut straight it burns Enough to give my chest hairs a perm I don't need no chemical blow to pull a ho All I need is Chemical Bank to pay da mo' [Bridge: Method Man] On your left, south On your left, south On your left, south On your left, southpaw, Mr. Meth [Interlude: Booster & (Method Man)] When I was a likle stereo (Stereo) I listen to some Cham-pi-on (Champion) I always wonda (wondered) When I will be di numba one (Tical! Hahaha) And now yuh listen to di Gorgon (Gorgon) And a Gorgon sound a Rein An' any jump and come tes' mi (Test me) Mi a-go lick out dem brain [Bridge: Method Man] Is it real, son? Is it real, son? Is it real, son? I came to bring the pain hardcore from the... Chemical, brothers Chemical, brothers Chemical, brothers Chemical, brothers Chemical, brothers (Is it real, son?) Chemical, brothers (Is it real, son?) Chemical, brothers (Is it real, son?) Chemical, brothers [Interlude: Booster & (Method Man)] When I was a likle stereo (Stereo) I listen to some Cham-pi-on (Champion) I always wonda (wondered) When I will be di numba one (Tical! Hahaha) And now yuh listen to di Gorgon (Gorgon) And a Gorgon sound a Rein An' any jump and come tes' mi (Test me) Mi a-go lick out dem brain [Outro: Method Man] I came to bring the pain hardcore from the brain ************************************************** Say (main)[Lauryn][Method Man] Yeah yeah, yeah yeah yeah Yeah, yeah yeah, yeah yeah yeah Yeah (Yeah) Yeah yeah (Yo) [Method Man] Damn, I hate it when it rain Ever since I came in the game Some hated on the fame A lot of niggas done changed And started actin' strange Even labels turning they backs And started backing lames Radio is the same, whole lotta speculatin' These mutherfuckas defacatin' on the name Wu-Tang, if this is where the hip-hop is Radio lyin' then, that ain't where hip-hop live It lives in the streets, we eat to live they livin' to eat I'm fed up, that nigga rides in 'em, givin 'em sleep R.I.P., make me the king of all I see And when death call I'm good I got call ID See it was planned in the front, now they just gon' front Like my joints is on proactive, and they just don't bump Then niggas gon' say I lost my skill When in fact they all been programmed And lost they feel, fo' real Chorus: [Lauryn](Method Man] They've got so much things to say right now They've got so much things to say They've got so much things to say right now (Yeah) They got so much things to say (Yo) [Method Man] Damn, another artist chokes again They ain't cut as close as him or even broke the skin See how niggas ain't yo friends, when there ain't no ends Don't care who the case offend, don't underrate my pen I got what it takes to win, while ya'll are thinking I'm trash Loving the taste of success and this drink in my glass Watch 'em cosign that whack shit, give it a pass till it's gone Quicker than Red, can't get rid of them clubs When they're wrong, call the cops, they credibility's shot It's time to learn, what hot really is and really is not Off brain niggas, Meth gonna let 'em know off top Don't get smacked on dvds, trying to show off blocks I can't stop cause my enemies plot, or cause the cops want me Shackled and locked inside the penalty box And while they waitin' for my shit to flop They gettin' pimped like hoes Sellin' they ass just to get my spot, come on man Repeat Chorus [Method Man] Ask Miss Hill, half these critics ain't got half this skill Often so hungry that they have to steal If I didn't have my deal, and didn't have this mass appeal Then I'm back up in that trap, swingin' crack it's real And that ain't worth the time, so search and find a new nerve And here's three words: stop working mine It take a lot more to hurt my pride Jerk my vibe more than media lies, cry when dirt dog die nigga The last album wasn't feeling my style This time my foot up in they ass but they feelin' me now Cause Tical, he put his heart in every track he do But somehow yall find someway to give a whack review It ain't all good, they writin' that I'm Hollywood Tryin' to tell you my shit ain't ghetto and they hardly hood Come on man, until you dudes can write some rhymes Keep that in mind when you find yourself reciting mines Repeat Chorus ************************************************** Dirty DancinYou know God damn well I don't smoke this shit Meth Know damn well I don't smoke this sheyit Know damn well! I remember when we used to go down to the creek Member when we used to go down to the creek? And used to dip your head in the water? Everybody thought you had it in you, you know You used to jump out the water The water used to glisten alllllll over your bohhhhhhdy What? I said the water used to glisten alllllll over your bohhhhhhdy Clean out my vocals Yeah, I said YEAH I said zuckazuhzuhzuh, zuckazuhzuh Chkccha ckchcka Brooklyn, zucka Zoo C'mon baby baby, baby, baby Baby, baby, baby, c'mon! Superlogical this, superlogical that I detect a nigga dialect by the way he rap I elect myself President MC My career so intelligent, unique physique Then with mathematics, not democratic Static, topic, Asiatic Zssshuh, them unique, never leak, brlaharl... Bring it on back Superlogical this, superlogical that I detect your dialect by the way you rappp! I elect myself President MC My career so intelligent, unique physique Doin mathematics and I'm not democratci No static, topic, I'm Asiatic See, I'm Unique, never... blarhalal... Crazy, lurkin in the shadows, I'm shady, sheisty Get your weight up, don't take me lightly Blasted, dirty to the grain I be stained with the madness It's the Meth-Tical with the Bastard MZA MZA my name is the Ol Dirty Bas My gammmmme, to kick your ass Dnnah duh dnnh dnnh duh duh! Dnnah dnh duh duh duh dahhhhhh! Flip and relax, take an Ex-Lax, I'm shittin On the industry that was frontin now they missin What everybody else is gettin Cuz they wasn't representin the real... ...appeal, like me and, old time When it comes to the microphone who killed the swine? Be the original G Do the rhymin on time and in the place to be You are now in my trance You are getting sleeeeeepyyyyyy You are now getting sleeeepyyyyy And sleeeeppieeerrrrr And sleepy, and sleepy This one here's for my people, my people Enter the 36 chambers, the sequel Part two, for me and the cipher troop With the Teflon lyrics that you can't get through With the twenty-two automatic rap you pack, what? You ain't hittin with that wack shit you kickin Straight from the beginning, of the game All the way to the ninth inning, I bring the pain Dark like the midnight train on the track by the RZA Diesel like Arnold Schwarzanegger The hardware, choose the hardware Ask you a question, test the Ason Extra extra, read the drama and thennn another one Which you intrigue, do your rap fatigue in the... Ohhhh.... Here I go, aauhhh Yeahhh... (shit that makes me high) ************************************************** Say (Call Out)[Lauryn][Method Man] Yeah yeah, yeah yeah yeah Yeah, yeah yeah, yeah yeah yeah Yeah (Yeah) Yeah yeah (Yo) [Method Man] Damn, I hate it when it rain Ever since I came in the game Some hated on the fame A lot of niggas done changed And started actin' strange Even labels turning they backs And started backing lames Radio is the same, whole lotta speculatin' These mutherfuckas defacatin' on the name Wu-Tang, if this is where the hip-hop is Radio lyin' then, that ain't where hip-hop live It lives in the streets, we eat to live they livin' to eat I'm fed up, that nigga rides in 'em, givin 'em sleep R.I.P., make me the king of all I see And when death call I'm good I got call ID See it was planned in the front, now they just gon' front Like my joints is on proactive, and they just don't bump Then niggas gon' say I lost my skill When in fact they all been programmed And lost they feel, fo' real Chorus: [Lauryn](Method Man] They've got so much things to say right now They've got so much things to say They've got so much things to say right now (Yeah) They got so much things to say (Yo) [Method Man] Damn, another artist chokes again They ain't cut as close as him or even broke the skin See how niggas ain't yo friends, when there ain't no ends Don't care who the case offend, don't underrate my pen I got what it takes to win, while ya'll are thinking I'm trash Loving the taste of success and this drink in my glass Watch 'em cosign that whack shit, give it a pass till it's gone Quicker than Red, can't get rid of them clubs When they're wrong, call the cops, they credibility's shot It's time to learn, what hot really is and really is not Off brain niggas, Meth gonna let 'em know off top Don't get smacked on dvds, trying to show off blocks I can't stop cause my enemies plot, or cause the cops want me Shackled and locked inside the penalty box And while they waitin' for my shit to flop They gettin' pimped like hoes Sellin' they ass just to get my spot, come on man Repeat Chorus [Method Man] Ask Miss Hill, half these critics ain't got half this skill Often so hungry that they have to steal If I didn't have my deal, and didn't have this mass appeal Then I'm back up in that trap, swingin' crack it's real And that ain't worth the time, so search and find a new nerve And here's three words: stop working mine It take a lot more to hurt my pride Jerk my vibe more than media lies, cry when dirt dog die nigga The last album wasn't feeling my style This time my foot up in they ass but they feelin' me now Cause Tical, he put his heart in every track he do But somehow yall find someway to give a whack review It ain't all good, they writin' that I'm Hollywood Tryin' to tell you my shit ain't ghetto and they hardly hood Come on man, until you dudes can write some rhymes Keep that in mind when you find yourself reciting mines Repeat Chorus ************************************************** Judgement Day (Super Jupiter Remix)[Verse 1] As I walk in the shadow of death Sixteen men on a dead man's chest Your host this E, Mr. H-O-T N-I-X, you get splashed with the Tec Hands in the air like you just don't care You all get a share, there's a party over here Year 2000, keep bouncin' T-Minus, thirty seconds and countin' [Chorus] (10) (9) (8) (7) (6) (5) (4) (3) (2) (1) Step into millennium [Verse 1] As I walk in the shadow of death Sixteen men on a dead man's chest Your host this E, Mr. H-O-T N-I-X, you get splashed with the Tec Nobody go 'til the God say so You got a second or more to run for the door Before I blow back off the map, contact You didn't know Stat' could get down like that [Chorus] (10) Ten let the countdown begin (9) I was born in the mind (8) Take the head of a snake (7) Behold Armageddon (6) Ain't no love for the rich (5) Only strong will survive (4) 'Cause we live by the sword (3) Plus sixty degrees (2) For the black and the blue (1) For the Sun, step into millennium [Bridge] The name of this one is Judgement Day No more B.S., can't come out and play Kids ain't playing over here, playa Kids ain't playing over here, playa Kids ain't playing over here, playa Kids ain't playing over here, playa [Chorus] (10) (9) (8) (7) (6) (5) (4) (3) (2) (1) Step into millennium Ten let the countdown begin I was born in the mind Take the head of a snake Behold Armageddon Ain't no love for the rich Only strong will survive 'Cause we live by the sword Plus sixty degrees For the black and the blue For the Sun (10) Ten let the countdown begin (9) I was born in the mind (8) Take the head of a snake (7) Behold Armageddon (6) Ain't no love for the rich (5) Only strong will survive (4) 'Cause we live by the sword (3) Plus sixty degrees (2) For the black and the blue (1) For the Sun, step into millennium [Bridge] The name of this one is Judgement Day No more B.S., can't come out and play [Chorus] (10) (9) (8) (7) (6) (5) (4) (3) (2) (1) Step into millennium (10) (9) (8) (7) (6) (5) (4) (3) (2) (1) Step into millennium (10) (9) (8) (7) (6) (5) (4) (3) (2) (1) Step into millennium ************************************************** Bring the Pain (Remix)[Intro: Method Man] Basically... Can't fuck with me [Verse 1: Method Man] I came to bring the pain hardcore from the brain Let's go inside my astral plane Find out my mental, based on instrumental Records, hey, so I can write monumental Methods, I'm not the King But niggas is decaf, I stick 'em for the CREAM Check it, just how deep can shit get Deep as the abyss and brothers is mad fish accept it In your Cross Colour clothes, you've crossed over Then got Totally Krossed Out and Kris Krossed Who da boss? Niggas get tossed to the side And I'm the dark side of the Force Of course it's the Mеthod, Man from the Wu-Tang Clan I be hectic, and comin' for thе head piece, protect it Fuck it, two tears in a bucket, niggas want the ruckus Bustin' at me, bruh, now bust it Styles, I gets buckwild Method Man on some shit, pullin' niggas files I'm sick, insane, crazy, driving Miss Daisy Out her fucking mind, now I got mine, I'm Swayze [Chorus: Method Man] Is it real, son, is it really real, son? (Yeah) Let me know it's real, son, if it's really real (What, yeah) Something I could feel, son, load it up and kill one (What, uhh) Want it raw deal, son, if it's really real—yeah—, uh [Interlude: Booster & (Method Man)] When I was a likle stereo (Stereo) I listen to some Cham-pi-on (Champion) I always wonda (wondered) When I will be di numba one (Tical! Hahaha) And now yuh listen to di Gorgon (Gorgon) And a Gorgon sound a Rein An' any jump and come tes' mi (Test me) Mi a-go lick out dem brain (It's like that) [Verse 2: Method Man] Brothers want to hang with the Meth, bring the rope The only way you'll hang is by the neck, Nigga Bolt Off the set, comin' to your projects Take it as a threat, better yet it's a promise Comin' from a vet on some old Vietnam shit Nigga, you can bet your bottom dollar, hey, I bomb shit And it's gonna get, even worse, word to God It's the Wu, comin' through stickin' niggas for they garments Movin' on your left, southpaw, Mr. Meth Came to represent and carve my name in your chest You can come test, realize you're no contest Son, I'm the gun that won that old Wild West Quick on the draw with my hands on the four- Nine-three-eleven with the rugged rhymes galore Check it, 'cause I think not when this hip-hops like proper Rhymes be the proof while I'm drinkin' 90 proof Huh, vodka, no OJ, no straw When you give it to me, ayy, give it to me raw I've learned when you drink Absolut straight it burns Enough to give my chest hairs a perm I don't need no chemical blow to pull a ho All I need is Chemical Bank to pay da mo' [Break: Method Man] What, basically that, Meth-Tical, '94 style Word up, we be hazardous Northern spicy brown mustard hoes We have to stick you [Chorus: Method Man] Is it real, son, is it really real, son? Let me know it's real, son, if it's really real Something I could feel, son, load it up and kill one Want it raw deal, son, if it's really real [Interlude: Method Man] I'll fuckin', I'll fuckin' cut your kneecaps off And make you kneel at some staircase piss I'll fuckin' cut your eyelids off And feed you nuthin' but sleepin' pills [Chorus: Method Man] Is it real, son, is it really real, son? Let me know it's real, son, if it's really real Something I could feel, son, load it up and kill one Want it raw deal, son, if it's really real [Outro: Method Man] So fuck the ho, fuck the ho ************************************************** Tim Westwood Yonkers Freestyle[Verse 1: Method Man] Uh oh you shoulda give me this beat.. I woulda... What?! Hold on, lemme see if I got something for this... no no no no lemme see. Lemme see Uh oh, uh oh, uh oh uh oh. Uh oh, uh oh, uh oh uh oh Crime scenes, coppers and sirens, helicopters and high beams The tensions is rising, fiends keeping their pipe clean This is what life mean? A dollar and a dream everybody wants nice things The kid was only nineteen, holding his chest now he's fighting For his last breath, he's seeing death it's frightening The grip on the ghetto is tightening, you try to do the right thing they do you just like King Now I can hear the night scream, sirens and light beams Firing off bad shots, hittin' people they ain't mean to pop The neighborhood's in shock, block extremely hot 'Nother black teen shot that's a dull routine to cops They shoulda got good grades, worked a minimum wage Now he layin' on that stretcher with nothing in him to save Keep it ghetto and whatever ghetto you at Just don't love the ghetto, cuase the ghetto don't love you back [Verse 2: Masta Killa] Tryna' be around this music it's therapeutic, first thoughts of the day it's so clear When I walk in my head there's a voice that talks, in my ear I can hear it so clear [Method Man] You think i'm buggin right? [Verse 3: U-god] Listen, oh shit.... Yo The average man wouldn't last that long She like to work out, run marathons She wear tight skirts with no panties on She's a six foot one bronze Amazon Singin', complaining all the good men is gone I'm from Babylon, she reads the Qur'an Visits all the jails and the nail salons She rock Coco Chanel, her smell was strong With skin like velvet she rocked my bed She gave me long head, sipping Long Island Red She spread eagle at the tip of the bed She rubbed on her legs this is what I said Rap music's therapeutic to me, rap music's therapeutic to me! [Verse 4: Method Man] Hey yo You ain't lived till you made your first million And top models wanna swallow your children I thought I told you Wu Tang is for the children Way before rap movin' crack in your buildings Yeah, now what’s the price of rice in China? These women tryin' to raise the price on they vagina Me? I’m trying to live the life and get the grind up Like Diddy, but I ain’t trying to give the Shyne up Pop pop, pop-off no question, see Ol' Dirty, like it raw no protection When the kid hold court, no objections Meth needs his money at the door, no exceptions I go hard in the paint on a rapper I go harder on a pussy no Viagra You think I’m tripping, ain’t into tricking But keep a snow bunny in the kitchen I’m the master like Killa ************************************************** Break Ups 2 Make Ups (Live)[Intro: Method Man] You and I 'til the day we die Yo, yo [Verse 1: Method Man & D'Angelo] Ex-girlfriend, how you been? I see you still tryin' to fuck with other women men Remember when I first met you at your cousin's house? A week later, we was crushin' on your mama couch (Ah, no) Now it's been said that big girls, they don't cry But they damn sure lie, I look you in the eye Sayin' you they only You and I 'til the day we die Said you'd never leave me lonely Fly tenderoni, but you phony Shoulda listened when my mama told me (Uh) Soon as I turn my back, you tryna fuck my homies That was then, this is now, I got a new friend Evеr since I cut them loose еnds, you wanna bone me Add strife to my life, pussy that'll make me think twice About leavin' the wife even, picture that You ain't want me when you had me Now you on your third baby-daddy And you hate to see a nigga happy So you tryin' mad ways to trap me Looking at my girl nasty, tryna throw the pussy at me (Uh) Fuck you mean? [Interlude] (Now look at this bitch over here tryin' to act like me) (Uh-huh, fuck that bitch, she must like leftovers) [Chorus: D'Angelo & Method Man] I'm still lovin' you, babe (You and I 'til the day we die) I'm still lovin' you, babe (Uh-huh, uh-huh) I'm still lovin' you, babe (You and I 'til the day we die) I'm still lovin' you, babe I'm still lovin' you, babe (You and I 'til the day we die) I'm still little lovin' you, babe (Ooh, ooh) I'm still lovin' you, babe (You and I 'til the day we die) Even if you're just — uh-uh, we ain't doin' that [Outro] This is for you, bro Blessings always, respect Give him his roses now, yo, D'Angelo, yo (Yes, sir) Respect Method Man, Redman, salute, salute Uh, legends, kings, Method Red, DJ Scratch Man, they killed that shit! (Oh, my God) Oh, my God, that was a, that was a surprise Oh, man (Wow) They killed that shit, goddamn (Wow, man) (So what's next, man?) What's next? Shit, since they killed it, I just say we throw on "1000 Deaths" ************************************************** Release Yo’ Delf (New Blood Mix)[Intro: Method Man] Keep it movin' Keep it movin' Keep it movin', we keep it movin' Keep it movin', and keep it movin' Keep it movin', we keep it movin' Keep it movin', and keep it movin' Keep it movin', we keep it movin' Keep it movin', and keep it movin' Keep it movin', baby, we be movin' Keep it movin', we keep it mov-, huh Keep it movin', we keep it movin' Keep it movin', and keep it movin' Keep it movin', baby, we be movin' Keep it movin', we keep it, mov-, huh [Verse 1: Method Man] Check it, I'm the fucking man — who could match it Noticed that other niggas' rap styles is bogus Doo-doo compared to this versatile voodoo Blazing, the stuff that ignites stimulation Inside ya, 'cause I be that hell sure provider Providing the rhyme that be deep as the Poseidon Adventure Niggas need to test they freaking scripture For the sickness that be spreading with the quicknеss [Bridge: Method Man & Blue Raspberry] Oh ... oh Keep it movin', we keep it movin' Keep it movin', we keep it movin' Keep it movin', we keep it movin' Keep it movin', wе keep it movin' [Verse 2: Method Man] Remedies, cousin I be doing on my enemy Penalty, then I drink 40s to they memories Emotion, coursing through your town street vicinity Blunt smoke in the air reveals my identity I bring it to his whole damn fam, understand if you frontin' On any man down with the Clan, I be comin' For the headpiece, you can't cope For my brother, I bring it to the Pope, word to mother [Bridge: Method Man] Check it, I'm the fucking man who they mention Check it, I'm the fucking man Check it [Chorus: Method Man] What's that rhythm, what's that sound? Party people getting down What's that rhythm, what's that sound? Party people getting down What's that rhythm, what's that sound? What's that rhythm, what's that sound? What's that rhythm, what's that sound? Party people getting down [Bridge: Method Man] (Bombaclaat) Uh, huh, uh, huh (Bombaclaat) Uh, huh [Verse 3: Method Man] Serial killer style from the Isles of Stat My peoples are you with me, where you at? Shit's getting deep in here, I mean like thick Niggas looking all in my face like they want dick It's about to hit the fan, hit the floor That's all I can stands, and I can't stands no more What is it? Niggas think they bigger Because they got their finger on the trigger of a biscuit They don't know I'm wicked when I start to kick it Eat they raw sound, wash it down with a Mistic [Outro: Method Man & Blue Raspberry] Oh ... oh Keep it movin', we keep it movin' Keep it movin', we keep it movin' Keep it movin', we keep it movin' Keep it movin', baby, we be movin' Uh, huh Oh... ************************************************** WNYU 89.1FM Freestyle ’94Method Man - “WNYU 89.1FM Freestyle ‘94” [Emcee(s): Method Man] [Producer(s): Charlemagne] [Additional Vocals: [?]] [Intro: [?] and Method Man] [?]: Yeah, that's Charlemagne, who was in the house earlier.  Mad beats for days. Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, just get loose, do your thing. Let me know when you, when you done. Let’s go Method Man: Ooh, that's kind of banging right there. Yo, yo [Verse 1: Method Man] My lifestyle's hectic—so what? I need the duckets I know that I’ma die someday, but I'm like, “Fuck it” My moms know the way that I live, and she's disgusted Just bought a pack of Newports and now I'm busted Shit's going down, and I'm not one to miss it Jelly upstairs to the lab and get the biscuit Brothers making G's on the block, so let's risk it Waiting ‘til they go in the spot and try and stick it First kid I caught on his way to get the med shit Had the loot tucked in his sock like I expected Caught him for the loot, the drugs, plus the med shit Told the kid, “Run or I’ll shoot.” He got the message Counted up about five bill’, now I'm staffing Up the blocks with the crackspot, me and my weapon Came through the back with the gat that’s off safety Plan: get the money and run, and make it hasty But son wanna pull out a gun and try and waste me Let off two rounds, I jet, he starts to chase me Duck behind a bush and vanish—poof, magic! He ran by the bush, I jumped out and I blasted Let three shots in his back, now he's a tragic Case of what happen to those that got a habit So when you see me coming on through, a plot get thick Don't try to say that I'm on some shit. I’m on some militant What you wanna do? What you wanna screw? Who you wanna bang? Yeah I'm here for you, son, I got your back as long as You keep it real. Word, I got your back. Brothers want The drama but don't know how to act until the chrome Pointed at his dome, head cracked. Come on, let's keep It real, no disguise. Recognize I'm from a small town Called Nigga Do or Nigga Die—that's why I'm stressing that brothers keep their thoughts on their lesson Resurrect your mind from the essence for real Ill block niggas get rocked, like, by the dozen What up, cousin? I give a pound to my lounge nigga Feast, my ninja. Killa Hill, 10304 But the GZA got me wide, it's going dizza Make my way for the Ooh building. Now I'm Chilling with my neighborhood villains, thug life. It be On now, hit the gun pow' as I murk another cow Mr. Method show you how niggas do it I studied, lived the life of good, bad, and ugly Hard time caught a nigga lovely, but that ain't nothing Before I die, I'ma leave the world with something To remember me by, the real would be I for You fronting, ass-out rappers to capture I'll rip your world apart like a natural disaster I keep it live, something more than ‘85 I utilize my third eye, got me thinking Maybe you and I should get together for whatever You'll never be alone, make it lifetime or better And you got it now, we be lounging, Tical Word, son, I like your style. Ooh [Interlude 1: Method Man and [?]] Method Man: Yeah, and you don't stop that rock, that rock. Ooh, yeah, and you don't stop that rock, that rock [?]: No doubt, no doubt. Charlemagne with the beats [Bridge: Method Man] Hah, yep, and it comes back To attack like the crack With that monkey off your back, what you wanna do? Fuck the crew, the F-U Man Like my man Eddie, come back Your raps is confetti, I tear ‘em to shreds, so be Dread (*Burp*) Burping on the track like that, come back to rap Known to catch wreck on the set be the Method Man For sure, Mr. Meth [Interlude 2: Method Man and [?]] Method Man: Haha, yeah, what? Whoo! I like this joint. Who you said made this here? [?]: Charlemagne [Verse 2: Method Man] Charlemagne, he's the nigga of the year. I like his style Oh my God, he gets buckwild. This fucking Beat is golden. You said no curses But I came back with the verses—aah!—like Satanic. Haha, get dramatic ‘Cause brothers got to catch a Craftmatic addict Type of bed. You ought to lay down and rest your head And catch what I said when I bring It back to the bozack Grab my joint like that ‘cause it's all good in the hood Back, back, back, back to my man Biggie Smalls—he's the illest. Take it To my man Willis and Arnold, backbone Of Diff'rent Strokes. We was old folks. Spread Sin through my kin. Ha ************************************************** Judgement Day (Tricky Remix)[Intro] Space, the Final Frontier These are the voyages of the Starship Tical Whose ongoing mission is to seek out new life New worlds, new civilizations To boldly go where no man has gone before [Verse 1] As I walk in the shadow of death Sixteen men on a dead man's chest Your host this E, Mr. H-O-T N-I-X, you get splashed with the Tec Nobody go 'til the God say so You got a second or more to run for the door Before I blow back off the map, contact You didn't know Stat' could get down like that Who want come test rocket launcher, yes Mr. Meth, hold the fort, most def Cats is dead wrong, song's too long Get swung on, can't we all get along? See my pinkie, see my thumb See that kid with the pump shotgun? Bust your gums, leave your whole shit numb Hmm, now what's this? Smell like fish Mr. Big Mouth, the gat be trout You need to douche out your style no doubt Johnny struck through the Shaolin slum Prum-prum-prum on my Shaolin drum Niggas don't dare step in the square Kids ain't playing over here, playa Only one way, and that's my way Grim Reaper calling, Judgement Day [Chorus] (10) Ten let the countdown begin (9) I was born in the mind (8) Take the head of a snake (7) Behold Armageddon (6) Ain't no love for the rich (5) Only strong will survive (4) 'Cause we live by the sword (3) Plus sixty degrees (2) For the black and the blue (1) For the Sun, step into millennium [Verse 2] The name of this one is Judgement Day No more B.S., can't come out and play Don't blame me, blame society Type of chemistry for a live MC Hands in the air like you just don't care You all get a share, there's a party over here Year 2000, keep bouncin' T-Minus, thirty seconds and countin' New York's finest, still wildin', Shaolin At the full moon howlin' Get 'til it's gone, Killa Bee kills Only time will reveal like the words in the song 'Cause love's what I feel for my crew, bust steel Niggas don't got to pay my bills P.L.O. pack the slingshot flow Plant the seed, let the garden grow And stick that rhyme where the sun don't shine Darts pierce your heart like a Valentine This my Tale From the Crypt that's sick Bloodbath, body bags and shit UFC fighting championships G.I. Joes with the Kung-Fu Grip Now you don't dare step in the square Kids ain't playing over here, playa Only one way, and that's my way Grim Reaper calling, Judgement Day Come on, I said come on [Chorus] (10) Ten let the countdown begin (9) I was born in the mind (8) Take the head of a snake (7) Behold Armageddon (6) Ain't no love for the rich (5) Only strong will survive (4) 'Cause we live by the sword (3) Plus sixty degrees (2) For the black and the blue (1) For the Sun, step into millennium [Verse 1 repeated] As I walk in the shadow of death Sixteen men on a dead man's chest Your host this E, Mr. H-O-T N-I-X, you get splashed with the Tec Nobody go 'til the God say so You got a second or more to run for the door Before I blow back off the map, contact You didn't know Stat' could get down like that Who want come test rocket launcher, yes Mr. Meth, hold the fort, most def Cats is dead wrong, song's too long Get swung on, can't we all get along? See my pinkie, see my thumb See that kid with the pump shotgun? Bust your gums, leave your whole shit numb Hmm, now what's this? Smell like fish Mr. Big Mouth, the gat be trout You need to douche out your style no doubt Johnny struck through the Shaolin slum Prum-prum-prum on my Shaolin drum Niggas don't dare step in the square Kids ain't playing over here, playa Only one way, and that's my way Grim Reaper calling, Judgement Day [Chorus] (10) Ten let the countdown begin (9) I was born in the mind (8) Take the head of a snake (7) Behold Armageddon (6) Ain't no love for the rich (5) Only strong will survive (4) 'Cause we live by the sword (3) Plus sixty degrees (2) For the black and the blue (1) For the Sun, step into millennium [Outro] Space, space ************************************************** Built for This (RapMusicHD Remix)[Intro: Method Man] I'm built for it nigga, yo straight check me out nigga [Verse 1: Method Man] Sort of like Malcolm at the Audubon They coming for me, my time is money, no Audemar See bar-for-bar, I keep it pushing no R&R No foreign broads and no promotion for foreign cars The game is ours, let’s keep it funky who said he was Like Staten Island, Italians bleed spaghetti sauce If y'all ain't shaking or stacking than y'all already lost Already cross the light, Christ I'm ready for em Plus anybody that saying no, I’m taking numbers I’m taking names, I’ll take your chain take this hunger Pain, pain, pain Can you feel the thunder and rain I don’t talk it like the rainbow I get it done and the game y’all Do me a favor, don’t ever play with my ball Never been a player-hater I just ain't playing with y'all You watching lame but look I’m taking the charge Going hard will get you two shots now I’m facing the charge [Hook x2: Freddie Gibbs] Fire up the la let’s go take a ride They might catch you by surprise if you let em slide But if you’re built for this shit then you might survive Guess I’ll see you when you wake up on the other side [Verse 2: 2Pac] Now, ever since a nigga was a seed Only thing promised to me was the penitentiary Still ballin', ridin' on these niggas ‘cause they lame In a '61 Chevy, still heavy in this game Can you feel me? Blame it on my mama, I'm a thug nigga Up before the sun rise, quicker than the drug dealers Tell me if it's on, nigga, then we first to bomb, bust On these bitch-made niggas, hit 'em up Westside! Ain't nobody loved me as a broke nigga Finger on the trigger, Lord forgive me if I smoke niggas I love my females strapped, then fuck her from the back I get my currency in stacks, California is where I'm at Ridin', passed by while these niggas wondered why I got shot but didn't die, let 'em see who's next to try Did I cry? Hell nah, nigga, tears shed For all my homies in the pen, many peers dead; a nigga still ballin' (still ballin') 'til the day I die You can bring your crew but we remain true, motherfucker Still ballin', niggas wonder why You can bring your crew but we remain true, motherfucker Still ballin' (westside) [Verse 3: Freddie Gibbs] Sort of like Mike at the United Center Madison Square, Boston Garden I straight ignite on niggas Lil' nigga your raps ain’t no fire, that shit’ll collapse so don’t try I scribble and scratch down in my pad that no lie That no fake, that uncut, that straight drop, what the fuck I’m pulled over by the jakes, a twenty-eight up in my nuts For em took away in cuffs I’d rather lay up in the dust Feel like fuck a friend a hundred million haters ain’t enough Twist it up Life is a blunt and the world is my ash tray I got them quarters and them halves just meet me like halfway And I need a hundred percent of my profit ain't fucking with half pay Ain't taking no shorts or losses bitch we ain't fronting no tag day As I can recollect, praying to God this dope’ll stretch Turn mobster warners, work these corners like P90X Chilling and waiting, patient retaliation just ain't find me yet I’ll take it into Heaven, you couldn’t buy me that, remind me that [Hook x2: Freddie Gibbs] Fire up the la let’s go take a ride They might catch you by surprise if you let em slide But if you’re built for this shit then you might survive Guess I’ll see you when you wake up on the other side [Verse 4: The Notorious B.I.G.] Since it's on, I call my nigga Arizona Ron From Tucson, push the black Yukon Usually had the slow grooves on, mostly rock the Isley (Uh-huh) Stupid as a youngin', chose not to move wisely (Ugh) Sharper with game, him and his crooks caught a jux Heard it was sweet, about 350 apiece Ron bought a truck, two bricks laid in the cut His peeps got bucked, got locked the fuck up That's when Ron vanished, came back speaking Spanish Lavish habits, two rings, twenty carats Here's a criminal, nigga made America's Most Killed his baby mother brother, slit his throat The nigga got bagged with the toast Weeded, took it to trial, beat it Now, he feel he undefeated, he mean it "Nothing to lose" tattooed around his gun wounds "Everything to gain" embedded in his brain And me? I feel the same—for this money, you dying Especially if my daughter crying, I ain't lying Y'all know the science (Niggas bleed just like us) Picture me being scared Of a nigga that breathe the same air as me [Hook x2: Freddie Gibbs] Fire up the la let’s go take a ride They might catch you by surprise if you let em slide But if you’re built for this shit then you might survive Guess I’ll see you when you wake up on the other side [Verse 5: Snoop Dogg] Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, players and pimps We'd like to welcome you all to Los Angeles, California Run it down the line, Sunset and Vine Blew a half a zip by the Hollywood sign Scottie once said it gets better with time Eastside, Long Beach, but this LA County on minds Yeah, this is the sign of the times One of a kind, and this might blow your mind This ain't no TV show, bow wow, yippie yo Standin' on your tippy-toe, nigga here we, here we go Crenshaw Boulevard, everywhere niggas hard Left 'em burnin' on my auntie's front yard Don't disrespect or disregard Shout out to the whole motherfuckin' Crip card Dip hard, wreck hard, used to pop, lock You turn on the wrong street and you will get got Move through the city like fee-fi-fo Creep slow in a four, motherfuck 5-0 [Hook x2: Freddie Gibbs] Fire up the la let’s go take a ride They might catch you by surprise if you let em slide But if you’re built for this shit then you might survive Guess I’ll see you when you wake up on the other side [Verse 6: Ice Cube] Fake ass ballers who we talkin to (We coming) Lying on records bout what you do (We coming) The shit y'all doin is played out and through (We coming) To come with that shit we come after you It's the Don Daddy with the Villain, who you killing Oh we hate them, come verbatim with this cap peeling Top billin', make a million Paparazzi, chase us through the tunnel in the Maserati Now they got me on Hard Copy didn't have to shoot Versace Yet you still wanna watch me Motherfuckers wait they whole fuckin' life and a day Hopin' that we can reunite N.W.A All purpose, try to serve us, gettin' nervous, more murders Shit can just turn into the circus Standin' over the carcass You look like the kind of nigga that'd press charges We the largest, we the biggest, we the Niggas, With the Attitudes Wee longitude you latitude, have some gratitude To the niggas that started this shit Been around forever bitch, we smart at this shit [Hook x2: Freddie Gibbs] Fire up the la let’s go take a ride They might catch you by surprise if you let em slide But if you’re built for this shit then you might survive Guess I’ll see you when you wake up on the other side [Outro] When you forge a weapon, you need three things: The right metal, temperatures over fourteen hundred degrees, and someone who wants to kill (kill, kill, kill) Here in jungle village, we got all three ************************************************** Judgement Day (Roni Size Remix)[Intro] (10) Ten let the countdown begin (9) I was born in the mind (8) Take the head of a snake (7) Behold Armageddon (6) Ain't no love for the rich (5) Only strong will survive (4) 'Cause we live by the sword (3) For the black and the blue (2) For the Sun (1) (10) Ten let the countdown begin (9) I was born in the mind (8) Take the head of a snake (7) Behold Armageddon (6) Ain't no love for the rich (5) Only strong will survive (4) 'Cause we live by the sword (3) For the black and the bluе (2) For the Sun (1) Step into millennium To boldly go whеre no man has gone before [Verse 1] As I walk in the shadow of death Sixteen men on a dead man's chest Your host this E, Mr. H-O-T N-I-X, you get splashed with the Tec Nobody go 'til the God say so You got a second or more to run for the door Before I blow back off the map, contact You didn't know Stat' could get down like that Who want come test rocket launcher, yes Mr. Meth, hold the fort, most def Cats is dead wrong, song's too long Get swung on, can't we all get along? See my pinkie, see my thumb See that kid with the pump shotgun? Bust your gums, leave your whole shit numb Hmm, now what's this? Smell like fish Mr. Big Mouth, the gat be trout You need to douche out your style no doubt Johnny struck through the Shaolin slum Prum-prum-prum on my Shaolin drum Niggas don't dare step in the square Kids ain't playing over here, playa Only one way, and that's my way Grim Reaper calling, Judgement Day [Chorus] (10) Ten let the countdown begin (9) I was born in the mind (8) Take the head of a snake (7) Behold Armageddon (6) Ain't no love for the rich (5) Only strong will survive (4) 'Cause we live by the sword (3) Plus sixty degrees (2) For the black and the blue (1) For the Sun, step into millennium [Verse 2] The name of this one is Judgement Day No more B.S., can't come out and play Don't blame me, blame society Type of chemistry for a live MC Hands in the air like you just don't care You all get a share, there's a party over here Year 2000, keep bouncin' T-Minus, thirty seconds and countin' New York's finest, still wildin', Shaolin At the full moon howlin' Get 'til it's gone, Killa Bee kills Only time will reveal like the words in the song 'Cause love's what I feel for my crew, bust steel Niggas don't got to pay my bills P.L.O. pack the slingshot flow Plant the seed, let the garden grow And stick that rhyme where the sun don't shine Darts pierce your heart like a Valentine This my Tale From the Crypt that's sick Bloodbath, body bags and shit UFC fighting championships G.I. Joes with the Kung-Fu Grip Now you don't dare step in the square Kids ain't playing over here, playa Only one way, and that's my way Grim Reaper calling, Judgement Day Come on, I said come on [Chorus] (10) Ten let the countdown begin (9) I was born in the mind (8) Take the head of a snake (7) Behold Armageddon (6) Ain't no love for the rich (5) Only strong will survive (4) 'Cause we live by the sword (3) For the black and the blue (2) For the Sun (1) For the Sun, for the sun, for the sun, for the sun For the sun, for the sun, for the sun, for the sun For the sun, for the sun, for the sun, for the sun Step into millennium [Bridge] Come on, I said come on Come on, I said come on [Chorus] (10) Ten let the countdown begin (9) I was born in the mind (8) Take the head of a snake (7) Behold Armageddon (6) Ain't no love for the rich (5) Only strong will survive (4) 'Cause we live by the sword (3) For the black and the blue (2) For the Sun (1) For the Sun, for the sun, for the sun, for the sun For the sun, for the sun, for the sun, for the sun For the sun, for the sun, for the sun, for the sun Step into millennium ************************************************** Judgement Day (Roni Size Dub Remix)[Intro] (10) Ten let the countdown begin (9) I was born in the mind (8) Take the head of a snake (7) Behold Armageddon (6) Ain't no love for the rich (5) Only strong will survive (4) 'Cause we live by the sword (3) For the black and the blue (2) For the Sun (1) (10) Ten let the countdown begin (9) I was born in the mind (8) Take the head of a snake (7) Behold Armageddon (6) Ain't no love for the rich (5) Only strong will survive (4) 'Cause we live by the sword (3) For the black and the bluе (2) For the Sun (1) Step into millennium [Refrain] Comе on, I said come on I said come on Come on, I said come on [Chorus] (10) Ten let the countdown begin (9) I was born in the mind (8) Take the head of a snake (7) Behold Armageddon (6) Ain't no love for the rich (5) Only strong will survive (4) 'Cause we live by the sword (3) For the black and the blue (2) For the Sun (1) For the Sun, for the sun, for the sun, for the sun For the sun, for the sun, for the sun, for the sun For the sun, for the sun, for the sun, for the sun Step into millennium [Refrain] Come on, I said come on Come on, I said come on [Chorus] (10) Ten let the countdown begin (9) I was born in the mind (8) Take the head of a snake (7) Behold Armageddon (6) Ain't no love for the rich (5) Only strong will survive (4) 'Cause we live by the sword (3) For the black and the blue (2) For the Sun (1) For the Sun, for the sun, for the sun, for the sun For the sun, for the sun, for the sun, for the sun For the sun, for the sun, for the sun, for the sun Step into millennium