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Intro:
Method Man:
*All my people...!*
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, D.V.D. round-sound, some herb round town
And chances of ya'll leavin', round now
Wait later, will make Funk page paper
Date Raper wit' Juvenile 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: Method Man & Redman
GET UP, STAND UP, BACK UP, PUSH 'EM
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 THE TOOTH OUT, TO MAKE YA'LL FEEL
IT!
Brrrrr...STICK 'EM, HA-HAHA STICK 'EM
Brrrrr...STICK 'EM, HA-HAHA STICK 'EM
Method Man:
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 try to see
central bookin'
So til ya gon' stop lookin', now what you did last
summer?
So I started hookin', you past shookin'
Over open can I ass-whoopin'?
Ain't no tomorrows in the Method's Little Shop Of
Horrors
Go ask your father who the father from the Hill to
Harbor
You know tha saga, marijuana bustin' Goldschlaager
With deadly medley, ya'll ain't ready for Shakwon and
Reggie
Don't even bother, the radio for back-up
Alright then, ya man got slapped up extorted for his
icin'
Streetlife is triflin' *Body over here...!*
Col' make me pull a Tyson and bite a nigga' ear
Precisin', slicin' jugulars the cut-crew
Ruggeder, Predator, Viking, etc.
People's champ, niggaz be takin' all competetors
Reachin' for the microphone, relax and light a bone
Straight from the Catacomb
The Children Of The Corn, that don't got a clue
Prepare for desert storm!
Chorus:
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 jaws
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'
Method Man:
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'ma blackout on just one drink?
You must be crazy! A little off the wall maybe
Go get a shrink...
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Wszelkie prawa do prezentowanych tekstów posiadają ich autorzy.
Tekst jest prezentowany wyłącznie do celów edukacyjnych.
dodał: mik
czytano: 1675 razy
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Fragment na dzis:
Usher : Burn
I don't understand why
See it's burning me to hold onto this
I know this is something I gotta do
But that don't mean I want to
What I'm trying to say is that I-love-you i just,
I feel like this is coming to an end
And its better for me to
L-
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et it go now than hold on and hurt you
I gotta let it burn
[Verse 1]
It's gonna burn for me to say this
But it's comin from my heart
It's been a long time coming
we da been fell apart
Really wanna work this out
But I don't think yo-
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u're gonna change
I do but you don't
Think it's best we go our separate ways
Tell me why I should stay in this relationship
When I'm hurting baby, I ain't happy baby
Plus there's so many other things I gotta deal with
I think that you shoul....
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