Method Man

[fox69]

"Bang Zoom"
(feat. Hanz On, Streetlife, Eazy Get Rite)

"Bang Zoom"
(feat. Hanz On, Streetlife, Eazy Get Rite)



[Chorus - Eazy Get Rite:]
(Bang Zoom) Them hammers go boom
Shoot ‘em up leave ‘em there and clear the room.
Nigga all I hear is (chick pow)
So give it up now,
That’s the type of shit
That happens in my town.
Nigga all you do is (click clack),
Listen fuck that,
All that bullshit hesitating get you clapped.
All I know is (zoom bang),
Letting my nuts hang,
Out to get it,
Best believe I do my thing
(yo its Staten Nigga)

[Verse 1 – Hanz On:]
Hanz roll.
Buzz swoll.
Don’t be understanding
How these corny niggas bold.
Life told,
Screenplay graphic
When it unfold.
Running with them killas
Made his heart cold.
Lights strobe.
Cameras on him walking
Through the threshold.
Spanish bitches yelling
Dame beso’s.
Watch glowed,
Earlobes frozen
But we seek gold.
Mr. Barka.
Yup, yup, beast mode.
Meth labs, bishop in the city,
Get them grips grabbed,
Run up do him greasy,
You’ll be shot, stabbed,
Got it looking easy,
Have ‘em zipped, bagged,
To the morgue motherfucker.
Cash rules,
So we berry everything.
General smash fumes,
Dark Henny everything.
Peep the math,
Jewels yo we built for the struggle,
Hanz on, nuff said,
Bout his bread.
Boy trouble.

[Chorus - Eazy Get Rite:]
(Bang Zoom) Them hammers go boom
Shoot ‘em up leave ‘em there and clear the room.
Nigga all I hear is (chick pow)
So give it up now,
That’s the type of shit
That happens in my town.
Nigga all you do is (click clack),
Listen fuck that,
All that bullshit hesitating get you clapped.
All I know is (zoom bang),
Letting my nuts hang,
Out to get it,
Best believe I do my thing
(yo its Staten Nigga)

[Verse 2 – Method Man:]
Meth man, yes Hanz,
Twenty years of love,
They been throwing up them dubs,
That’s respect, damn,
Money, sex, drugs,
You’ll get stretched, blam,
Tec nine up in the club,
That’s a tec jam,
Can’t wait to see him go,
Make ‘em hate to see me blow.
I’m a label CEO
Minus the yes man,
Rick Rubin with the spliff,
That could spit it Ludacris,
Minus the Def Jam.
Mean while, stick ya for ya cream
Red beam (chi-ca-bloow),
Another John Coffey on that Green Mile.
Get it how I’m living,
Got an ounce of Steve Rifkind,
That’s that green loud.
Yes sir, no child left behind,
Pump your brakes (scrrrrrrrr)
Snitching in the kitchen you’ll get baked served,
My life is like a movie,
All groovy I mean its all Gucci (burrrr)

[Chorus - Eazy Get Rite:]
(Bang Zoom) Them hammers go boom
Shoot ‘em up leave ‘em there and clear the room.
Nigga all I hear is (chick pow)
So give it up now,
That’s the type of shit
That happens in my town.
Nigga all you do is (click clack),
Listen fuck that,
All that bullshit hesitating get you clapped.
All I know is (zoom bang),
Letting my nuts hang,
Out to get it,
Best believe I do my thing
(yo its Staten Nigga)

[Verse 3 – Streetlife:]
Streetlife, goon, platoon,
Locked reloaded, bang zoom.
Gee coated,
From the womb to the tomb.
I’m married to the game,
This my honeymoon.
Yes, I do,
Forever Wu,
Loyalty is royalty
Cream blue.
Code red, dangerous ground,
Street I’m heaven sent
But I’m hell bound.
Top five, hands down,
Staten popular son.
Peace lounge, crown fitted for the king,
I am, I suggest, you play the wing man.
Shine like a diamond,
Like bling blam.
God body watch a nigga go ham.
Lifestyle episodes of Gangland.
Thirty six shots from the chamber blam...

[Chorus - Eazy Get Rite:]
(Bang Zoom) Them hammers go boom
Shoot ‘em up leave ‘em there and clear the room.
Nigga all I hear is (chick pow)
So give it up now,
That’s the type of shit
That happens in my town.
Nigga all you do is (click clack),
Listen fuck that,
All that bullshit hesitating get you clapped.
All I know is (zoom bang),
Letting my nuts hang,
Out to get it,
Best believe I do my thing
(yo its Staten Nigga)

 

[fox69]

"Big Dogs"
(feat. Redman)

"Big Dogs"
(feat. Redman)



[Redman]
Def Squad, Wu Tang
[laugh]

(check it, check it out)

[Verse 1: Method Man, (Redman in brackets)]

(Yo yo Method Man, yo yo Iron Lungs)
(Call us gorillas in the myst)
(Raunchy vocalist)
Your code name
(Doc)
(Whats yo' name)
Hot Nix
Who them slick kids puffin that shit holdin they dicks
(Yo them same two drivin yo whip fuckin yo bitch)
Hold me down son
(Yo, I hold you down with the pound)
You got a lot of buiscits
(Ayo but where they at now?)
Diggy down yo we resevior dogs, you puppy chow-chow
Got my mittens on the kitten, lickin it now-now
(Yo we bring the beef to you, infest it with the mad cow)
Disease
(We set to load)
Cock and squeeze
(Booya!)
We too hard to hold off
(One arm slam ya like Nicoli Volkov)
When i dip dip dappa (dappa)
The anti-socializa (liza)
Everything be ice cream from _?_
(We rock ya, knock ya fuckin whole team off the roster)
(Starting lineup, Iron Lung)
The funk docta

[Verse 2: Method Man]

Johnny blaze the ghost rider (uh)
Ghost stories by the campfire (uh)
The night breed (vampire!)
Duckin from the head rushin (uh)
Wu Tang production
Precussions bringin reprecussions
I hold my mike sideways bustin (bustin)
Another one bites the dust and
Cardiac arrest
Clutchin your chest suckin your last breath
In awe, period meth
Nigga,
dyin from papercuts, Bleedin to death
Down these mean streets johnny quest (uh)
From ASCAP to NASDAQ
Get that money sack (uh)
These habitats aint no place to raise family at (family at)
These alley cats be at war with these dirty rats
So watch you back when you come to the slum
There aint nowhere to run from the iron lizard lung
Blazes on stunts
I be dippin in the sun
My plates bear no one
My uzi weighs a ton
(Word up)

[Verse 3: Redman]
Pon Cocked
The don juan doc
Send crews back to the shoe shine box
Connect the dots
My description
Black mel
Yellow da mellow
I make it hard for mc's to run neck and elbow
With d-o
Penal code
We both to duck when he hear the bike
Wit the squeaky clutch
Swallow this hard act to follow
You could parachute off my slang and use my rhymes to toggle
I'm tense, so smooth i cant be fingerprinted
I stomp harder in slow motion
Yo fuck your appluad
Bitches still rush me like they rushed the store
Before the soul train award
Incorporate a law
Whoever aint raw get they hand chopped
By jamal with the wu sword (whoo-ee!)
My crew specializin
Snakin yo bitch
Robbin you while you on the floor
Shakin your shit
I'm doin me now i'll do you
(Yo who you?)
Doc
I bomb shit through the conflicts crucial
I be da black el nino
I mean yo
I'm supreme like the team show
With the pay to cream fo
(To see you sit down?)
Yo, na we get the fuck up
(And leave the one you wit)
Then take off of usher
Thats right, six double oh with chrome pipes
U.S. marshals out to pen us up like Snipes
(Throw it in drive)
Fuck takin me and meth alive!
(Yo, you look that-a-way)
You look out the other side!

 

[fox69]

"Biscuits"

"Biscuits"


[Intro:]

What? What you want?
Represent represent represent
Yeah, represent, check it out check it out

Yo mama don't wear no drawers!
I saw her when she took them off!
Standin on the welfare line, eatin swine
Tryin to look fine, with her stank behind
You can ask the bitch and she'll tell ya fast
Meth-Tical got STYLE with his nasty ass

[Verse One:]

Are you ready, to face the consenquences and suffer?
I even tell ya momma you ain't shit, motherfucker
Bring it, and let that killer bee kid sting it
And rep-resent, it's like heads up a brick, when I'm swing it
Get lost, I break you off something
I'm pumpin, like a Reebok, with a pump, from the jump and
You was nothin
Bet ya thought ya fuckin clan had ya fuckin back but they was frontin
Smokin dirt blunts and fuckin nasty stunts and
Ya take the naked gun without the bullet, what ya bustin
Get ya ship sunken, fuckin with a drunken
Master disaster at enemy rap functions

[Interlude:]

Huh, just an echo
Yoo-hoo ripin-ripin in the valley
Yoo-hoo ripin-ripin so to bring back
Sweet memories of you
And you can even ask your crew
Betcha bottom dollar that they tell ya fast
Meth-Tical got STYLE with his nasty ass

[Verse Two:]

Who said the Wu-Tang Clan? Was it you or your man?
You wanna point the finger, I'll bring ya
36 chambers, be out, youze in danger
Let me pull ya brain outcha ass with a hanger
Didn't momma not tell ya not to talk to a stranger
Now ya got ya neck, in the noose, of the strangler
Just recline, keep the Meth in mind
I'll even test the knuckle check on the hands of time
What? And I'll be more than glad to bust that ass
All up and down the block, the street, the isle
Whatever, smokin on a Spike Lee joint
Hey I'm Mo' Better, I'm hopin niggaz get the point
Cause they coul never, stop the veteran, word to God
When I'm severin the HEAD of a mental vegetarian
The Method, at the weekend, with a whole lot of credit
The cuties I desire, I be the first to set it
off, flame on like the Human Torch
Fantastic Four for all the fans in the store
You can eat it all and it'll tell ya fast
Meth-Tical got STYLE for ya nasty ass

[Outro:]

94 baby, word up, recognize, recognize
Wu-Tang killer bee
The RZA and the Method MZA

Raider Ruckus, where you at?

 

[fox69]

"Blackout"
(feat. Redman)

"Blackout"
(feat. Redman)



[Redman]
It's Funk Doc
Where da weed at, bitch?!
I speed back wist, down to one-way from cops
See thas' shit?! Believe thas' shit!
Slaughter straight to camcorder, I'm too hot for t.v.
Backdraw water, my windpipes attached to
Project-ballers
You yell: "Turn the heat down!"
My voice, divi-di-round-sound,
some heard round town
And chances are ya'll leavin', round now
Wait later, will make Funk page paper
Date Raper with juveline 8th Graders
Hit the High School at 187 Caesar
When I bust ya'll need to back 4 acres
Doc ya'll and that's my man JabberJaw
The shitlist ready, who next to scratch off?
I'm from the underground, my soundlib
Platform shoes to bitches, 400 pounds!
[Chorus:]
[Meth & Red]
GET UP, STAND UP, BACK UP, PUSH UP
JUMP UP, ACT UP TO MAKE YOU FEEL IT!
Brrrrr...STICK 'EM, HA-HAHA STICK 'EM
Brrrrr...STICK 'EM, HA-HAHA STICK 'EM
Yo' BLACKOUT, SHOOT OUT, SMOKED OUT MOVE OUT,
EVEN KNOCK YA TOOTH OUT, TO MAKE YA'LL FEEL IT!
Brrrrr...STICK 'EM, HA-HAHA STICK 'EM
Brrrrr...STICK 'EM, HA-HAHA STICK 'EM
[Meth]
Now I'm the streettalkin', dogwalkin'
Approach me with extreme caution, OH NOW YOU FORCIN'?
My hand that rock yo' cradle often I'm hot-scorchin',
but stone cold like Steve Austin
If you smell what Tical cookin',
ain't tryin' to see central bookin'
So til ya gon' stop lookin', know what you did last
summer?
So I started hookin', you past shookin'
Offer open can of ass-whoopin'?
Ain't no tomorrow's in the Method's Little Shop Of
Horrors
Go ask your father who the father from the (Park)Hill
to (Mariners)Harbor
You know tha saga, marijuana blunts and Goldschlager
With deadly medley, ya'll ain't ready for Shakwon and
Reggie
Don't even bother, to radio for back-up
Alright then, ya man got slapped up extorted for his
icin'
Streetlife is triflin' *Body over here...!
Nigga pull a Tyson and bite a nigga' ear
Precisin', slicin' juggerless the cut-crew
Ruggeder, Predator, Viking, excetera
People's champ, niggaz be takin' off competetors
Reachin' for the microphone, relax and light a bone
Straight from the Catacombs
The Children Of The Corn, that don't got a clue
Prepare for desert storm!
[Chorus]

I scored 1.1 on my SAT
And still push a whip with a right and left AC
Gorilla, Big Dog, if my name get called
I'm behind the brickwall with arsenic Jars
Spit poison, got a gun permit draw
Gundown at Sundown you keep score!
This training-course and ya'll ain't fit
On my crew-tombstone put 'We All Ain't Shit'

[Meth]
Yo', all you gonna be, wanna be When will you learn?
Wanna be Doc and Meth? Gotta wait ya turn
I spit a .41 Revolver on New Year's Eve
With the mic in my hand I mutilate m.c.'s
The most slept on since Rip Van Wink
My shit stink with every element from A to Zinc
So what you think? I'm a blackout on just one drink?
You must be crazy! A little off the wall maybe
Go get a shrink...
[Chorus]

 

[fox69]

"Bo2 (Intro)"
(with Redman)

"Bo2 (Intro)"
(with Redman)



[Intro: Redman (Method Man) {stage people}]
D.C. make some God damn noise
{You got, you got Meth mic, right?}
{We can only fix one mic at a time}
{Ok, he got Meth, mic?}
(Ladies and gentlemen, we'd like to welcome you)
(To the Redman & Method Man show)
Yes sir, yes sir

[Redman]
Yo, when you see smoke in the air
Two hot boys that put coke in your ear
Fuck pimp, I wanna get dope of the year
Til I die and I smoke with a lear
Boost my career, and bare arms heavy
What you trynna get, I was there already
Yeah, I'm a wise ass, take one to know one
Asshole Academy, yeah I'm the spokesman
Talk that greasy, on the north TV
Even pigs love the Boss Hog CD
What you find hard, I do it easy
I can see why the next guy wanna be me
Yeah, I'm a problem, ya'll can't solve 'em
Straight up bitch like Cartman mama
Keep a 'brown fox' like the 'ill na na'
B.O. 2, bitch, we bring the drama

[Chorus: Redman]
How the fuck ya'll feeling tonight?
How the fuck ya'll feeling tonight? For real

[Method Man]
Yup, I think my mind playing tricks on me
I hold the weight like my name set the smith on me
It's Meth & Doc, nigga, back on that, homey
Back on the strip, how many women wanna strip for me?
This nigga spit, don't he? My flow is heavy
As Katrina when she broke the levy's, real as they get, whoadie
Ya'll better get to know me, I'm top notch
Got a thing for the top spot, too hot for you to hold me
When niggas ugly you gotta cut me a dime
Little Asian honey is funny, she love me long time
Get this money, if you don't mind, got money on my mind
Cuz I'm hungry, never dummy, the sun forever shine, nigga
If you rolling with us, then throw your hands up
We need Bricks and Staten Island to stand up
Here's your chance, my niggas, go 'head and man up
Blunt Brothers, see we at a level they can't touch

[Chorus]

[Redman (Method Man) {both}]
Yo, Redman (Method Man) back in the building
(We can ship gold) fuck one million
(Underground rap) That's what you hearing
{Middle finger up like fuck ya'll feelings}
{Yeah, yeah, fuck ya'll feelings}
That's how it sound when them boys be wheeling
{Yeah, yeah, fuck ya'll feelings}
(Niggas can't eat, then it's back to robbing and stealing)
Give it up, nigga!

 

[fox69]

"Break Ups 2 Make Ups"
(feat. D'Angelo)

"Break Ups 2 Make Ups"
(feat. D'Angelo)



[Method Man]
You and I, 'til the day we die.. (day we die..)

Yo, yo
Ex-girlfriend, how you been? I see you still
trying to fuck with other women men, remember when
I first met you in my cousin's house, a week later
we was fucking on your momma couch, now it's been said
that big girls they don't cry, but they damn sure lie
Look you in the eye, saying you they only
You and I, til the day we die, said you'd never
leave me lonely, fly tenderoni but you phony
Should've listened when my momma told me, soon as I
turn my back you try to fuck my homies, that was then
this is now I got a new friend, ever since
I cut them loose ends you wanna bone me
Add strife to my life, pussy that'll make me think twice
about leaving the wife even, picture that
You ain't want me when you had me, now you on
your third baby daddy, and you hate to see a nigga happy
So you trying mad ways to trap me, lookin at my girl nasty
Trying to throw the pussy at me

"Now look at this bitch over here trying to act like me"
"Uh-huh, fuck that bitch, she must like leftover"

[D'Angelo]
I'm still in love with babe [8X]

[Method Man]
Yo yo
It's always you and your crusty ass crew, be acting new
Let me find out that you fucking with Boo, and y'all gon' feel it
Waiting for the day that you front, and catch a lump
from my black butterfly, that don't pack a lullaby
Sleep on her, she said you bitches tried to creep on her
in the mall and didn't know she had the reach on her
Pearl-handled twenty-two, my Boo
She go ahead and walk her dogs, and represent Wu
to the fullest, you and hon can shoot the fair one
I'll bring the bullets, know what I'm saying? Stop playing
You and them dyke looking bitches
Acting like y'all jumping something, go 'head with that bullshit

[D'Angelo]
I'm still in love with babe [8X]

[Method Man]
Got tired of the games, the lies, the feeble alibis
Now you fucking with the next guy, a Thug Nigga
Derelict be acting bugged nigga, show this nigga
mad love but get no love nigga?? Stupid ass
Plus I heard that he be beating on you, I seen him
at the club cheating on you, with you best friend, got you stressing
And used up, pull your shoes up, all you need's affection
but you're headed in the wrong direction
Trying to make this nigga jealous, with other fellas
All up in my face acting overzealous
Like you want somethin from Meth, I hope it ain't love girl
Cause I ain't got none left for you, plus you miserable
Misery Love Company, shit I'm living comfortably, don't need no
nigga hunting me down for fucking round, with his kitty
Talk to him, before my brother put a spark through him
Won't be pretty, the situation got my whole attitude shitty
And got you acting high saditty with your slut committee
You know I know; so go find another sucker yo, I been there
and been done that befo', and don't need it no mo'
That's, my, word! So go to your own with that there, word up
and tell that bighead nigga you run with that you was insane

[D'Angelo]
I'm still in love with babe [8X]

 

[fox69]

"Bring The Pain"

"Bring The Pain"


Basically, can't fuck with me
[Verse One:]
I came to bring the pain hardcore from the brain
Let's go inside my astral plane
Find out my mental's based on instrumental
records hey, so I can write monumental
Methods, I'm not the King
But niggaz is decaf I stick em for the CREAM
check it, just how deep can shit get
Deep as the abyss and brothers is mad fish accept it
In your Cross Colour, clothes you've crossed over
Then got Totally Krossed Out and Kris Kross
Who da boss? Niggaz get tossed to the side
And I'm the dark side of the Force
Of course it's the Method, Man from the Wu-Tang Clan
I be hectic, and comin for the head piece protect it
Fuck it, two tears in a bucket, niggaz want the ruckus
Bustin at me bruh, now bust it
Styles, I gets buckwild
Method Man on some shit, pullin niggaz files
I'm sick, insane, crazy, Drivin Miss Daisy
Out her fuckin mind now I got mine I'm Swayze
[Chorus:]
Is it real son, is it really real son
Let me know it's real son, if it's really real
Something I could feel son, load it up and kill one
Want it raw deal son, if it's really real
[Interlude: Booster]
And when I was a lil stereo (stereo)
I listened to some champion (champion)
I always wondered (wondered)
Will now I be the numba one? (Tical! hahaha)
Now you listen to de gargon (Gargon!)
And de gargon summary
And any man dat come test me (test me)
Me gwanna lick out dem brains (it's like that)
[Verse Two:]
Brothers want to hang with the Meth bring the rope
the only way you hang is by the neck nigga poke
off the set comin to your projects
Take it as a threat, better yet it's a promise
Comin from a vet on some old Vietnam shit
Nigga you can bet your bottom dollar hey I bomb shit
And it's gonna get even worse word to God
It's the Wu comin through sickin niggaz for they garments
Movin on your left, southpaw em it's the Meth
Came to represent and carve my name in your chest
You can come test realize you're no contest
Son I'm the gun that won that old Wild West
Quick on the draw with my hands on the four
nine three eleven with the rugged rhymes galore
Check it cause I think not when this hip-hops like proper
Rhymes be the proof while I'm drinkin 90 proof
Huh vodka, no OJ, no straw
When you give it to me aiy, give it to me raw
I've learned when you drink Absolut straight it burns
Enough to give my chest hairs a perm
I don't need a chemical blow to pull a hoe
All I need is Chemical Bank to pay da mo'
What, basically that, Meth-Tical, ninety-four style
Word up we be hazardous *car crashing* *horn passing me*
Northern spicy brown mustard hoes
We have to stick you
[horn sound of car racing by]
[Chorus]
[Outro:]
I'll fuckin, I'll fuckin cut your kneecaps off
and make you kneel in some staircase piss
I'll fuckin, cut your eyelids off
and feed you nuthin but sleepin pills
You motherfuckers
(So??) So fuck the hoe
Fuck the hoe
(Look at this nigga, this motherfuckin...)

 

[fox69]

"Buck 50"

"Buck 50"


[Method Man]
Supreme Clientele

Who on this? The Fenon, them niggas can't live
Who on this? We ain't got shit, Summin Gotz ta Give
Y'll done flipped y'all wig, blacked out the kid
Die and live for my nigs and my bad ass kids
Freeze [sniff], lookin at your ice like PLEASE
Plottin on the mouse trap, about to snatch the cheese
I heard y'all kids is 'bout that, psycho therapy
Fuckin, where the cow chat? Blue till they bury me
Never tell a lie, like George with the cherry tree
Now it's cherry pie, if it's not BROKE, let it be
Ain't nuttin nice in, New York, stick ya for ya cake and ya icin
All that tough talk don't mean nuttin when ya up north
So keep them hands where I can see them like ya want freedom
You know that sayin, if ya can't join 'em
Beat 'em and push ya way in
We ain't acrobats but we flip on occasion
Pick the Pace up, past snaggin, throw your waist up
Niggas writin slum juice with Jacob, FOOL
You're like DUDE, I don't like your fuckin attitude
Frontin on my Clan from Shao', we ain't mad at you

[Ghostface Killah]
Yo, Starks dippin cheesy face, meesly pace
Ghostface, jump out the window for a little taste
Droopy luck, my main bitches call me lazy
Educated birds say, "Ghost, you're so crazy"

[Cappadonna]
Cappa slide thru with the Ghost
Post up like paint on walls
Drip jew-els, big heat ruffle inside the bubble-goose
It's the odd couple, holo-points follow you home in Staten Island
Playin with the big toys that make noise
Echo in the hall, a scared voice
Niggas start to act choice, but Dunkin 'hinds
Didn't know Betty Crocker had them two nines
Made the club moist, shattered the windows
Dust heads runnin, the black kingpin buzz the Black Jesus

[Redman]
Yo, the words you talk better be the words you walk
Body you in the van while the nurse is off
Put your vein out, watch me insert the dart
Till it bleeds from Bricks to the Persian Gulf
Light curcuits off, thirty-third if my brain is off
That explains why my language off
My gun aim and cough, y'all ain't trained to brawl
Y'all more like them training bras
Wet behind the ear, you're not prepared
for the project flow, with extra stares
I pass out a vest to wear (bullets'll fly)
Yo, a hard wire, startin bonfires
Pullin mask, so you know it's me
Your weave got more seeds than ODB
Can't smoke wit'cha, watch Ghost tie rope to ya
Def and Wu will open ya

[Method Man]
Your shit lice
Baby shake your shit 'fore your shit lice
Get rich like...

[Ghostface Killah]
Word, it's me y'all

We in two sixes, flirtin with bitches
Dime plush, takin pictures
"How you doin baby, my name's Ghost
Don't get caught up in my chains or the way that I speak"
Seek intelligence, slickest nigga doin it since Grease
Check out the greys on the side of my waves, my crew doze on Riker's Island
Stretched out, malled up in the cage
Pull a ? out on Jimmy Jam, shakes Space Jam
Silky texture, Jordan jumped up like Clyde Drexler
All up in the parrot, nose numb, real as they come
Biggie's Versacis, Snow White rabbit
Hands is like photographic magic
Funeral love, boohoo when we hug, don't make it a habit
Hit the gym in two weeks, my back all chisseled
Elbows unique now, meet the new me
Ghetto fabulous, Tony Atlas
Zulu Nation in the 80's, in front of Masey's I start my own Chapters
Tyco, Nike glow, velvet pose
Special effects, high-tech armors, murk you after shows
Supercalifragilisticexbealidosious
Ghost'll hollar exbefragilisticcalisuper
Cancoon, catch me in the room eatin group up

[Method Man]
Shoe fly shoe, Wally dark Clark crew
Fuck y'all wan' do? Crack a brew, smoke an L or two
And flip like, yellin for the whole click, it's sick like
the way yo' stank bitch eat a dick like
baby shake yo' shit, hold yo' dick like
gettin rich like..

 

[fox69]

"Built For This"
(with Freddie Gibbs & Streetlife)

"Built For This"
(with Freddie Gibbs & Streetlife)



[Intro: RZA]
When you forge a weapon, you need three things
The right metal, temperature's over 1400 degrees
And someone who wants to kill
Here in Jungle Village, we got all three

[Intro: Method Man]
Yo, Street, check me out, nigga

[Method Man]
Sorta like Malcolm at the Audubon, they coming for me
My time is money, no automa', see bar for bar
I keep it pushing, no R&R, no foreign broads
And no promotion for foreign car, the game is ours
Let's keep it funky, who said he washed?
Like Staten Island, Italians bleed spaghetti sauce
If ya'll shaking with Stallion, then ya'll already lost
Already crossed, then like Christ, I'm ready for 'em
Plus anybody that say he know 'em, I'm taking numbers
I'm taking names, I'll take ya chain, to take his hunger
Pain, pain, pain, pain, pain, pain
Can you feel the thunder and rain?
I don't talk it like the rent, boy, I got it done in the game, ya'll
Do me a favor, don't ever play with my ball
Never been a playa hater, I just ain't playing with ya'll
You watch your lane, but look I'm taking the charge
Going hard'll get you two shots, now I'm facing the charge

[Chorus 2X: Freddie Gibbs]
Uh, five to life, let's go take a ride
They might catch you by surprise, if you let 'em slide
But if you built for the shit, then you might survive
Guess I'll see you, when you wake up on that other side

[Freddie Gibbs]
Uh, sorta like Mike at the United Center
Madison Square, Boston Garden, I straight ignite on niggas
Little nigga, your raps ain't on fire, that shit'll collapse so don't try
I scribble and scratch down in my pad, and no lie
That no fake, that uncut, that straight drop, what the fuck
I'm pulled over by the jakes and 28 up in my nuts
For I'm took away and cuz I'd rather lay up in the duct'
Feel like fuck a friend, a hundred million haters ain't enough
Twist it up, life is a blunt and the world is my ash tray
I got them quarters and them hash, just meet me like half way
I need a hundred percent of my profit, ain't fucking with half pay
Ain't taking no shorts or losses, bitch, we ain't funding no tag day, for sure
As I can recollect, praying to God, this dope'll stretch
Turn mobster corners, work these corners like behind it, yes
Chilling and waiting patient, retaliation just ain't find me yet
I'm taking in to heaven, you couldn't buy me that, remind me that

[Chorus 2X]

[Streetlife]
It's the world's worse, quick to snatch your man purse
And leave your body head first in the stretch hearse
Murder she wrote, I'm knock to spit a killer verse
And leave a plate of blood spillin' on his dinner shirt
You, can Google my name but you ain't gotta search
I'm right here in the streets, I'm putting in work
Go 'head, fuck around and get your feelings hurt
Or, you can get carried out of your local church
I'm from the old school, I do my own dirt
Mama raised no fool, I did my home work
Keep your wifey close, she's a little flirt
I knew her since '03, I hit the pussy first
I'm the reason why your baby mama water burst
I been mobbing since birth, you can ask my Earth
It's not a problem, to show you how the shotty work
I put your body in the dirt, but what the dollars worth

[Chorus 2X]

[Outro: Freddie Gibbs]
I'm built for it, nigga

 

[fox69]

"Bulworth (They Talk About It While We Live It)"

"Bulworth (They Talk About It While We Live It)"


[Prodigy]
Aiyyo, wordup Dunn
Man you know how I feel
Gotta be more to it than this, word up

[Doing an impression of Scarface]
This what it's all about Dunn? Uh?
Eating, drinking, fucking, sucking (Can't understand)

Whattup, I don't know baby
Nah man, it's not, it's not yo word up
I'm tellin you right now
I know this shit though, aiyyo

Disagreeable, foul energy, tryin to
absorb my energy, knowin it's the strength of me
Take a few to give me a edge
My green light shine bright, Kryptonite type
Fully operational, my physical cream
Put the bottles of smoke down, pick up a magazine
Popped it inside the AR-15
Put it aside, round up the regime
While you rely on religion, I hold a nine
on the mission, to pull fire on your opposition
Revelation was the vision of this
Crack the heavens, it's time to bring the business, shit
My story goes back to them lost Pyramids
I'm seeing things that you won't believe exists
He use a Lunar-tick, suspended in time Dunn
The secondary light got your mind
You rock the fatigues, to squab until ?popular? guns
But are you really prepared, for the things to come?

[KRS-One]
Check it out
True underground sound from the Boogie Down
Uptown Downtown gather round for the showdown, in they faces
Calling out these racists, at Rolling Stone
Spin Details and other places, KRS is The Source
Fuck these magazine leadin hip-hop off course
You'll print about Black Mayors, Black Senators
Why you ain't got no Black Editors?
Everytime I do an interview in Rolling Stone
They sendin me a writer that look like he's Home Alone
Ignorant, to the culture and the microphone
This has got to stop -- your whole spot
is blown sky high, battle why try?
My view is bird's eye, scopin with my third eye
You don't understand, why you're publically banned
until you recognize the writing skills of a black man
Black Editor, all of us ain't thuggin
Gossiping over who's homosexual
Some of us are Black Intellectuals, up in Harlem World
You can't get with me, so now in Midtown
you wanna stop and talk to me?
Bitch ass journalist, is this your fake hip-hop publication?
Look I'm burnin this

[Method Man]
How many didn't want to see it happen
Street moves, live from Staten, if life is a joke, nobody laughin
Hate to see a brother do good through legal action
So you sabotage and throw a Def in the Squad
Fo'-fo's blastin, keep the po-po flashin
these Dark Soul Assassins, Jake's hate the Gods with a passion
So I keep it movin in an orderly, fashion
Pedal to the floor -- peep the Jim Crow law, mind control theory
Y'all niggaz don't hear me, Generation Next
Droppin fast who's next, next to get wet
by the reign of the tech-knowledgy, follow me
Open up wide now, swallow me, every calorie
is reality the truth, the whole truth and
nothin but the truth, taste is the proof
These niggaz want the Juice, and in the crossfire
be the youth, who didn't learn to duck when they shoot

[KAM]
What kind of party is this, it's that political kind
Where America's best, most hypocritical minds
Try they hands at keepin y'all deaf dumb and blind
And for the right dollar sign, do white collar crime
behind suits, and clean shaves
I confuse em and use em as tools and slaves
Because my schools is graves and jobs is plantations --
I robs the damn nation
so I can live in luxury, you fucks with me
You marryin the dirt and I'ma throw in the tux for free
I tell the people what they wanna hear
I make em laugh and cheer, and then they re-elect me every year
So when the coast is clear, I stop duckin
and start back doin dope, cussin and fuckin
I kiss the babies, shake hands, wave and smile for flicks
That's my style, my pol-i-tricks
Triple-Six convicts, lyin is automatic
in the government, Republican or Democratic
Fuck Freedom, Justice and Equality
Nigga just accept my apology and suck this trick-knowledgy