Disc 1 | ||||||
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1. |
| 1:03 | ||||
<i>[Intro: sample]</i>
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!) <i>[Method Man]</i> Yo, 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 niggaz, ain't no hoe 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 niggaz 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 niggaz 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 <i>[Chorus: Method Man]</i> 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 <i>[Outro: Method Man]</i> How could you ever say that I'm washed up When I'm the dirtiest thing in sight 4:21... The Day After |
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2. |
| 2:07 | ||||
(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 2 guns 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 head 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 paint, 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 at all Take it from the most stepped on, your 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 desiring without further adieu let's keep it wu, and fuck keeping it real y'all Just keep it you |
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3. |
| 4:11 | ||||
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 Stafani, 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 [Chorus: 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 [Chorus] [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'ma 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, niggaz, 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 [Chorus] [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 |
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4. |
| 3:52 | ||||
[Intro: Busta Rhymes (Method Man)]
Aiyo, Tical? (What up, fam?) You know Busta-Bust 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 Bust or Meth (find their mentor) Yeah, I-I-I think the streets been lookin' for this one for a long time (Yeah, aiyo) Come on! [Method Man] I came to bring the pain, more hard to the brain Tical... I'm bustin' that ass again I burn like acid rain, that acid slang These niggaz try'nna see how I come ash again Main and evident, I'm huntin', yes, Meth for president Be in hell with Dazel and George just for the hell of it And I ain't yellow kid, flows hot as kettle get Now if you ain't fuckin' with that, you must be celibate Spaz! Just a little, got a sack lookin' fizzle 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 tryin' get what I'm worth and not a penny less Think fast (come on) bank cash (come on) Everybody do it with your stank ass (just come on) [Chorus: Method Man (Busta Rhymes)] 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 happening? (come on!) [Interlude: Method Man (Busta Rhymes)] Yeah... let 'em talk, nigga, come on Bust (Aiyo, Meth, let me get at these niggaz) Yeah! [Busta Rhymes] Now watch me back your shit up, I hope your people pull up And pick up and pack your shit up, homey, it's time to move While I'm singin', ma, do you let relieve you of all of your Figure seating sketching, never believe in your niggaz (come on!) Go head and babble you can watch me patiently waiting Aimin', attackin', instead I'mma let one of my bitches slap you I ain't watch you when your niggaz'll try To feel a wrath of the un-rudely waking of a sleeping giant (Very defiant), once I give you the pressure And then I apply it and then your breathing is stop and totally quiet (sss.. oh) Captain of this ship, so call me the pilot I leave you and your crew to collide with me Die, stomp on a nigga, just like a herd of a thousand cattle That'll travel over your face and frazzle your shit Shot you, worst than a brick and then be torturin' you And then get the reverend, and get to steppin', nigga! This shit'll make you.. [Chorus: Busta Rhymes] [Interlude: Method Man (Busta Rhymes)] Haha, that's the truth... my nigga (Nigga, listen, listen, let me talk) Let me talk! (huh) [Busta Rhymes] (Method Man) {both} Can't you see what I got for you now (Shake your big fat ass in front of me now) To all my high bidders (to all my live niggaz) {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 when you bout to lose it, my nigga And you know we gon' get real stupid, my nigga} [Busta Rhymes] See the police coming (what?) Fireman coming (what?) Street niggaz ready to riot and start dummin' (what?) I love to see it, whenever you and your man frontin' (what?) Me and Meth'll step to you, quick! And smash somethin' (what?) [Method Man] Now who is he? Dope M.C. killin these cowards Wack niggaz get pimp slapped, give me some powder Click-clack, one in your back, now think about it Get back, runnin' your gap, I can't allow it [Busta Rhymes] Well every nigga (set it off) you know we seeing it through God The streets be needing niggaz like me and you, God Aiyo, I think we're up, seen it from here, we got a mile, yo Logical, we should of done this shit a long time ago [Method Man] I got that shit that make rappers shit in they shoes Nasty M.C., I spit flows and spit in they food Man, don't tempt me, I'm nothin' like a curious child I'm simply, a boy in the hood, with furious childs (this shit'll make you) [Chorus: Busta Rhymes & Method Man)] [Outro: Method Man (Busta Rhymes)] Every day, every rotation, come with it! (Let me talk... come on, hah) (Aiyo God) Yeah, lord? (Flipmode/Wu-Tang, nigga, ain't that some shit?) That's some shit, actually truthfully, Busta Bust! (Meth Tical!) Yeah... (yeah, let me know when you wanna do that again, God) Shit we can do that right now, shout out to New Jersey, hahaha, yeah! |
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5. |
| 3:25 | ||||
[Intro: Method Man] Yo... aww shhhhhhiiiiiiit! [Hook: Method Man] My niggaz, 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 I'll 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 [Chorus: 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 [Chorus] [Method Man] For what it's worth, the early bird sit at the table and eat first My niggaz 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.. [Chorus 2X] |
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6. |
| 4:31 | ||||
[Redman][Chorus repeats 2x] 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 [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... [Chorus] [2x] [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 Shinshuu 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 Yemen 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 [Chorus][2x] [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 hoe 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 hoe always down to pull a d-low On me? No, so there wont 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? [Chorus] [Repeating till fade] |
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7. |
| 3:01 | ||||
"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 [Raekwon] And we the Gods, still tear the whole hood apart Darts that'll splatter through faces, taste niggaz 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 niggaz Blew shotties in niggaz 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 [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 smell the herb, 'fore I lit the spots its forfeit it Blocks is hot, feel the shot from fourth/fifth it 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 reachin' Respect when a grown man is speakin' Shh, keep on sleepin', and just like TLC, I keep on "creepin" The five percent of ya'll, keep on teachin' The heat seakin', missile official, that got issues Like Funk Doc got snot tissue, it's Hott Nikkels "Everywhere I turn, I see, your face, but you're never there" [Method Man] Shh... shit ain't over.. Okay, now, same shit, different day, grindin', 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 bloodsuckers 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'mma 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 cd's, 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.. |
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8. |
| 4:50 | ||||
[Intro: Method Man + Chinky] Uh huh...no ID 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 ?bookers? 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 mudda 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 creepin' on the come up, like [get it, got it, I'm gone] + Chinky Now I got hun, ridin' 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 m?age 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] (repeat 2x) 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 + Meth] What do you expect from me (uh huh, uh huh) I know of those promises, of love & 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 wind girl Soul sister, can't get ya ta hail witch-ya at the players ball, Cinderella lost her Chanel slipper Now that's flavor neighbor, shake what ya momma gave ya twist dick and move like Layla, call you ma?na later I love the misbehavior, no minor, miss ya major no finer chick can ?flage-ya? God bless the bitch who 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 - Meth + Chinky] Haha, yeah, yeah, the ladies love Big Johnsta 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 phattie 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 <br |
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9. |
| 2:57 | ||||
[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 [Chorus: 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 pose [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 deuce Shifted ass cheeks, last week and Ludacris is backseat Afraid so, ask son, taste them [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 [Chorus w/ Luda & Meth switching lines] |
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10. |
| 4:01 | ||||
[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 We'll shake me up, 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 [Chorus: 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 [Chorus] [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... [Chorus] [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! |
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11. |
| 4:27 | ||||
[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 [Chorus: 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 niggaz 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 Niggaz 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 [Chorus] [Hook 2X w/o "fire" the second time] [Interlude: Method Man] Yeah, ya'll niggaz 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 [Chorus] [Hook 2X] [Chorus] [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! |
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12. |
| 3:06 | ||||
[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 [Chorus: Saukrates (E3)] Niggaz 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! [Chorus 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! |
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13. |
| 2:30 | ||||
[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 Norther 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, till y'all come 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 niggaz 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 niggaz so broke, they couldn't spend a lovely even [Outro: Method Man] Yeah, that's it Yeah, Method Man has just left the muthafuckin' building |
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14. |
| 3:18 | ||||
"Yeah, that's right everybody get some act right" 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 Elaine 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 yall can hang on I'm like a king that's so fresh so clean I leave niggaz 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 niggaz (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 "Thats right everybody get some act right" Ya damned if you do, ya damned if you don't Step inside my Range and get blammed if you won't My Clan in the joint, man we got it locked Like whatever niggaz got in the bank, I got it stopped Y'all already know of my strength already growin' And 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 BIG 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 your 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] 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] "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" |
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15. |
| 3:13 | ||||
[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 Mad strong, 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 [Chorus: Method Man (Ghostface Killah)] Each (meet) son (see) 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 master 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 niggaz, 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 crime 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! [Chorus: Method Man (Ghostface Killah)] Each (meet) son (see) Boats (suites) dough (beats) No flows ill as these, him 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 shit there (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.. |
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16. |
| 3:49 | ||||
[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 niggaz 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 niggaz (I rock for all my niggaz) 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 [Chorus 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 yo'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!) Niggaz is holdin' Run up, watch me put one up in your colon Chizzle town, thugs in the club, like chicks posin' Lambchop niggaz is sheep in wolf clothing [Chorus 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 (niggaz 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 [Chorus 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) |
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17. |
| 1:00 | ||||
(feat. Black Ice)
[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 used 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 |