Method Man Album

[No lyrics]

(feat. Streetlife)

[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

f/ Missy Elliott, P. Diddy

[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 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

f/ Busta Rhymes

[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)

[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..

(feat. Redman, Snoop Dogg)

[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]

f/ Raekwon

"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

(feat. Chinky)

[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 maáana 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

(feat. Ludacris)

[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]

(feat. Kardinal Offishall)

[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!

f/ Shawnna, Streetlife

[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

(feat. E3, Saukrates)

[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!

[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

"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"

f/ Ghostface Killah

[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

(feat. Kon Artis, Streetlife)

[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)

f/ 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

w/ Redman
from How High Soundtrack

[Redman]
Grab a - hold to ya seats, my style bulldoze the streets
I talk dirty, puncture holes in my teeth
Cavity creep, I'm young hung over thirty
You with it move with it, now shut up I'm cool with it
Doc-tor, Jurassic IV rap-tor
Wrap your head in a gorge in trenches where rats crawl
It's mine (brrrr) that's yours, my gun is bisexual
It's hittin male or female when I'm lettin go
This is a code alert; my truck rim size da number
on Jordan shirt, 23's got to work
We stick to the streets my shell toe's Velcro
There I go - wearwolf standing with scarecrow s
Y'all niggaz barely move me
'til you grow some balls like ms. Mann from Scary Movie
You banned from being mooly
I keep it black gutter, white gutter
Chinese gutter by these brothers
Here try these fuckers here

[Chorus: Meth and Red]
All my niggaz let's do it
All my bitches floorin that ass let's do it
Looks a crooked eye motherfucker let's do it
Meth and Doc we got it locked let's do it
My block let's do it

[Method Man]
I'm just too Kool and the Gang, it's a beautiful thang
Street pharmaceutical slang scoop loose in the brain
One mo' gen juice in my gin abusin yo chin
Be losing your religion again when the venom kicks in
Living with sin citizen X triple the threat
Mad dog wreck a animal house send in the vets
There it goes picking my nose fixing my clothes
At the same time keeping my flows different from yourz
Low key with the gold teeth half a O-Z on my person
Lookin at y'all niggaz like y'all owe me
For certain I'm all that my fo'-mat
wearin out ya do'-mat I'm hurtin commercialized acts
It's a wrap pull the curtain, Long John be long gone
I pop shit and pop more bottles then Sean Don
I got chip I'm just too ghetto like Banton
Mike V it's all in my jeans like Sean John

[Chorus: Meth and Red] - repeat 2X
All my niggas let's do it
All my bitches floorin that ass let's do it
Looks a crooked eye motherfucker let's do it
Meth and Doc we got it locked let's do it
My block let's do it

[Redman]
Oow put ya ear to the train track I'm still comin
I +Stroke+ +Different+, after hours ya Phil Drummond
Peel lemons and put 'em in bitches Coronas
Hopin bitches will bone us, throw they lips on my shoulder
Where all my dirty fingernail tell her right hell
I'm a lay patient to play Jason and when you nightmare
STOP pop cordureoys and we order toys
Medulla oblongata mean on them +Waterboys+
Gorilla man do whatever
I'm bound to make a fan do the same thing Stan did in a letter
I bounce with a bitch with a ounce on a trip
Take her girlfriend, nut in they mouth when they kiss
And I make em SCREAM - I go banana yo
With animal anecdotes with Hannibal hammer loads
You be ducking like the pope when he bow in
You get that for touchin pit throats when they chowin

[Chorus: Meth and Red] - repeat 2X
All my niggas let's do it
All my bitches floorin that ass let's do it
Looks a crooked eye motherfucker let's do it
Meth and Doc we got it locked let's do it
My block let's do it

[Method Man]
Now that's that shit - that makes me zone the fuck out
in the club and get thrown the fuck out
Now ain't that a bitch - if y'all ain't with us then forget us
Miss Ebon ? hip hop guerillas
Damn just do the damn thing, ruin the game
For everybody bury the body, ruin my name
Meth man left hand Game Boy Advanced
Def Jam's employee of the month now let's dance

[Chorus: Meth and Red] - repeat 2x
All my niggas let's do it
All my bitches floorin that ass let's do it
Looks a crooked eye motherfucker let's do it
Meth and Doc we got it locked let's do it
My block let's do it

[Method Man]
Haha let's do it {5x}
Meth and Doc
All my peoples all my bitches