<i>[Intro: Redman (Method Man) {Keith Murray}]</i> Gilla House, aiyo, Meth, nigga? (What up?) Aiyo, Keith Murray, nigga, pass the muthafucking weed, nigga {Meth, got that joint} (Nah, you got that shit, nigga, stop playing) You know how I do when I come in the muthafucking building, man Redman, nigga
"Everybody just scream!"
<i>[Redman]</i> Call your moms on the phone, it's the jam I got jet ski's that ride over land Since a young buck had fire in my hands When I was bumping "Roxanne, Roxanne" I got gin and an O.J. Rock 'friday' to 'next friday' like O'Shea Hit the west coast, six four on tray Doctor Bombay, sick flow all day I don't play fair, niggas can't see me That's why I make it do what it do, baby, yeah You want some, yeah, niggas hit the floor When I kick in the door, wave in the four four For sure, Uncle Snoop, where's the coupe? Cuz I keep a hoe fighting like New York and Hoopz Strap up your boots, move around Pick it up like engine number nine It's mine, homey, Tech, what's good? And it ain't hard to tell how I rep my hood You a beast like me, rep your hood Sign the check when I mic check, one-two
<i>[Chorus: all]</i> West Coast niggas love getting it started Down South niggas love getting it started East Coast niggas love getting it started But when we in the house shit get retarded When we in the house shit get retarded When we in the house shit get retarded We came to finish what ya'll done started "Everybody just scream!"
<i>[Keith Murray]</i> Aiyo, fuck your prognosis on who's the dopest You get skate like super chronic holitosis If you looking for beef, you know you gon' get it Got ya'll niggas yellin' 'callin' the cops, get the paramedics' Keith Murray, Method Man, Redman Hip hop got Barack in his B-Boy stance Like a nigga with no legs, you don't stand a chance Against the Wu-Tang, Def Squad, L.O.D. wardance One glance, watch Keith Murray hop out In a hurry, cold like a McFlurry No Mickey D's, show me the money like Jerry Maguire L.O.D. for hire, I'm ready I rep Strong Island, bums get rushed I pack house like Biggie in Notorious We warriors, who the fuck are you? I pop an E and the gun go Pikachu Niggas know how deep the crew, get at me I'm nasty, but I went from ashy to classy Got badunkadunks waving all at me Cuz I be, doing my thing and making everybody scream
<i>[Chorus]</i>
<i>[Method Man]</i> Yo, Brick City, Staten, Long Island, we back More violent on the track, black talent and a gat Bomb shit, like a nigga wilding in Iraq See the truth of the fact, niggas lying in they raps Me? I'm a diamond in the rough in the cut Like paroxide, got mine frying in the Dutch Forget about your top 5, try and top mines Take shine like I got mine ironing your guts You know I keep it fired up, fire in the hole To the game, old and tired, I be tired when I'm old I'm trying to keep it hot like the pile up in the stove While these rappers losing power putting powder in they nose Meth, Keith Murray and Redman, yo Fuck you and your mama on a headband, hoe You can call the kid a modern day Van Gogh Take the art to a place where the fake can't go My chain and my pants hang low Got my own namebrand, I'm the man made, bro Cash in advance, I'mma blow up with the dough Whoa ho ho, don't let me like slow up with flow
Turn the beat up a little bit Got to get that part, baby I'mma do it like this, baby, I don't give a fuck, baby Yo, yo
I walk in the spot, and I see niggas standing 'round So I ask what's going down Got a girl in the back, a blunt in the mouth And a chain on my neck, hang to the ground Hey, I said how you feel? Baby look tough with a gangsta grill I ain't rich, but I pay my bill I'm like Jay, I'm trying to drop me 'a mil' My hood tripping, chrome wheel whipping With all these hoes, you can tell I'm slipping Shots of Patron, got bird eye vision Even broke niggas wanna learn my pimping Yeah, yo, let's be clear You're unaware what's in the underwear She said 'yeah', I said 'yeah' Pulled the purp' out and put it in the air
[Chorus] Aiyo, I smell something burning up So I throw it up, and I put it in the air (Tell that DJ, turn it up While I roll it up, and I, put it in the air) {Higher, we gon' take it, higher, watch me move it Higher, we put money in the air} Put, put, put, put Put it in the air
When I come up in the club, and I see my niggas on the wall And I'm like 'yo, what's wrong with ya'll ?' Got these girls in the spot, and I don't care if she a bird or not Cause I ain't really trynna talk to ya'll Got a pocket full of stones, grown with a pocket full of bones I'm a class act, I follow with the chrome Lane switching, got your misses on the phone Baby girl, turn ya head and teeth missing out her comb Look, I want this money off the books Little kush, and a Playboy bunny that can cook You wan't the truth? Man, you fucking with a crook But these niggas want the juice, now they fucking up the jooks Jimmy Crack Corn, and I don't muthafucking care Cause the green is the only thing puffin' over here So be clear, put this bug up in your ear Meth and Doc put it down, yo, put it in the air
[Chorus]
A dude like me, keep a boom boom in the truck So you hear Doc rolling up Middle finger in the air, to my haters, yo, what's up? You can tell Doc fuck shit up Hey, nigga, I'm so hood My hand on the pump, niggas understood Bitch, I'm no good, I swear Light shit up like Times Square, put it in the air
I got a bottle of Patron, I'm the only one that spent that cash But everybody try to get they glass Now we can all have a drink, if you trying to put some dough in the bank But if not, ya'll can kiss my ass I need a, Cinderella that can give me the loot Better yet, a French vanilla that can give me the scoop Oh yeah, just so we clear, put this bug up in your ear Meth and Doc put it down, yo, put it in the air
I wanna deal, with a bigger asshole The streets, it's coming down hard We got to get our shit together We always had music, eating off the game Like you was never gon' run dry, that ain't no business (No other game is run so disorganized Look around you, every hood that's taking care of business Is together, dig it, tight?)
I can't spend my life running away For what it's worth, how much dirt can I get done in a day? I got, clip in the AK (a blunt in the tray) I'm a beast (Fuck the police) N.W.A. Ya'll play this game that the huster's play And if you dress in the metrosexual way, then muthafucka, you gay Ya'll can save this drama for Kay Slay, like who's fucking my chick Or writing books about sucking my dick Now I don't give a fuck what they say, 'cause once I put on my cool They see my life and wanna put on my shoes Top of the world, ma, look at your dude I dig a chick with an attitude, but I don't let her cook up my food It's like these young niggas hugging the strip Who got the power to move bricks and buildings never loving the bitch Stripping with game, ya'll can guzzle a sip, ain't nothing change My niggas is off the chain, and we don't muzzle the pit, a-ha
"Can I get a suuuuuuuu?" "Aiyo, this bounce right here for all my Wu-Tang muthafuckas in the house, tonight"
Soon as I, pick up my pen, I begin my flow I close my eyes then write rhymes in a Blackout mode My uzi, weigh over a ton, CD plays over I do my crime with baking soda, with no odor Pull out like boat motor streams, crack your shoulder wing Def Squad decoder ring, psychopath bordering My dogs shitting on your lawn, while you watering Pay the fine, audit him and shit on your lawn again D.O.C. get it, C.O.D., my hood P.O.P., nigga, N.J. deep, baby Jersey state of mind, Method Man, lock 'em in Ya'll niggas give a fuck, punk, we the opposite, yup I hear you gossiping, 'cause we on Just because I rock, don't mean I'm made of stone My bones is sturdy, I wake up to get it early When I bully the streets, my Co-D is Keith Murray In a hurry, back down, the boy roll with us This how it sound when them boys is transmitted Bricks to Staten Island, where babies turn into killers That's why my Cadillac bare more arms than caterpillars, let's get it
"Can I get a suuuuuuuu?" "Aiyo, this bounce right here for all my Wu-Tang muthafuckas in the house, tonight"
<i>[Intro: Redman (Method Man)]</i> "This is for, all my smokers" Whoo, one more, just keep the thing at the end of it Alright, give me one more time on the count of three 1, 2, 3 "This is for, all my smokers" (Yo, ya'll done made the album, you heard) Yes sir "This is for, all my smokers" "This is for, all my smokers"
<i>[Redman]</i> Aiyo, Meth, what's up, nigga?
<i>[Method Man]</i> Doc, what's really good? Got that bush and that Backwood, light up in any hood Yup, I'm that hood, my brother, love me some Cali kush Never thought that little bush in that baggie would have me hooked I'm a pothead, everyone look, and point your fingers At the bad guys, with the cottonmouths and glass eyes Huh, fuck it, I'm that high, I'm blowing smoke clouds Got my head in the clouds, fuck it, I'm that fly Doc, what's up, nigga?
<i>[Redman]</i> Yo, you know how I bust Find me drunk, fucked up at the Cannabis Cup For those who don't smoke, get the middle finger up You smoke more than us, nigga, it's beginner's luck My truck, ride with 5-0 eyes on it It's like the blunt, when you ain't got five on it I challenge any opponent, who wanna smoke? We can puff til our voice get lower than Tone Loc, like
<i>[Chorus: Redman (Method Man)]</i> Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah Ain't nobody smoking more than me, up in here (Aiyo, pump this shit, you get high off this here, because) "This is for, all my smokers" (I'm like yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah Ain't nobody smoking more than Meth up in here) Aiyo, bump this, bitch, you get high off this here, because) "This is for, all my smokers"
<i>[Redman]</i> Yo, I'm like oh my God, oh my God I start growing sour dies' in my home garage Now niggas on the block, say I'm on my job Cuz now I rock more chains than Amistad This my 'entourage', this not HBO A bitch see me, she like, oh there he go You can smoke with the bro, if you got ass and nice tits But fuck you, with that, I'm 'high off of life' shit
<i>[Method Man]</i> They tried to make me go to rehab, no Tell my P.O. that I ain't trying let the weed bag, go You can catch me in the whip, pushing the seats back slow My chick's a Rican, that mean she off the meat rack, though Look ma, I'm eating, cuz when it's time to get that dough I sink my teeth in, and turn around and spit that flow They call me beasting, I monster the booth, so in the cut I leave 'em bleeding, little swag', with some Miss Dashing season
<i>[Chorus]</i>
<i>[Method Man]</i> I got flavors, I major, baby, send in the troops That Johnny Blaze ya, leave dashes in your Timberland boots Can't fuck with haters, just mad I got a pocket of loot I'm chasing papers, ya'll try'nna be a rock in my shoe I'm a father, I don't drink with kids, these youngers thinking they hard I think harder than they think they is I'm by as proper as my English is, and hope I did my thing Before I die, for the things I did
<i>[Redman]</i> Everybody light it up and smoke with your man And cigarette smokers, change ya game plan Cuz this is for all my, marijuana smokers Backwoods, Swisher sweets, and Dutch rollers Yeah, I pull over, start pulling out money Cuz I by weed, like everyday 420 You know what else funny, I found was so gutter I'm Cheech and Chong brother, just got different mothers
<i>[Intro: Method (Redman)]</i> Deeper than Atlantis (yeah) I pray like a prayin mantis (yeah) It's all day (yeah!) Doc and Meth nigga (Red and Meth's in the motherfuckin buildin yo) Brick City, yeah! Staten Island, yeah! Let's go (oh, yup! Let's go, yo)
<i>[Chorus: Redman]</i> Yeah, I'm comin down yo' block And my sound's so loud it'll make a nigga STOP He recognize who remains on top Let a motherfucker know, you never heard this befo' Yeah, I'm comin down yo' block And my sound's so loud it'll make a bitch STOP She recognize who remains on top Let a motherfucker know, you never heard this befo'
<i>[Redman]</i> Y'all already know nigga... Yo, it's Funk Doc, my style never change Boy I think I still got it, like Eddie Cane Cause, nights like this, I bring the pain Introducin 11th member of Wu-Tang, Liu Kang Doc's spittin, fire out the palms Sign the check and, me and the world get it on If rap fail, you can bet I'm doin porn My Mobb is Deep, we know how to ride in the (Storm) I'm like Vince Vaughn, I keep it (Old School) For the family I go to war like two-twos Throw it on YouTube, tell 'em I'm ready Biggie said he got room for me when I'm ready Fast lane livin, Mario Andretti Greasy lookin like them characters in "Belly" Close your eardrums, this a recordin Don't be unaware like the mayor of New Orleans, nigga!
<i>[Chorus]</i>
<i>[Method Man]</i> These niggaz, wanna be Biggie, niggaz wanna be Tupac The only problem niggaz is you not - look I got this two-shot dillinger, one shot for killin ya If you ain't la familia nigga, I'm not feelin ya Tsst, hot; wheelie the block, watch the billin We are hip-hop, real and you not, lock the buildin Got them Ziplocks, ounces of weed, countin some G's up in this bitch spot, a nigga like me, I don't do tight tees or flip-flops, been a goon since the womb And my dad had that herringbone chain with the spoons Check the wristwatch - deposit the guns Ain't hard to tell that he a big shot - don't plot on my ones I carry the (Faith) like Big 'Pac ??I carry the weight See y'all don't get too carried away, and pay me what my salary say Ha, Meth Doc, gettin that guap Fuck your feelings, this is hard rock, stirrin the pot Watch me get 'em with this, hah
<i>[Chorus w/ Redman ad libs]</i>
<i>[Redman]</i> Yeah, aiyyo, get that rap game on lock, NOTHIN Rhymes like ours need E on production Lil' kids listenin, we might corrupt 'em (Public Enemy), Chuck D can't trust 'em Name ain't Justin, but I rock (Timberlands) Doctor, right, with the penicillin in Get it? New Jersey Drive like midget Ask five-oh and Dee-Bo how I whip it Yo Meth, can you kick it?
<i>[Method Man]</i> Yes I can And the (Kid) stay (Frost) like a Mexican What's good vatos? Crops and candy cane, I got those 357's and three dice, I shot those Every rapper talkin 'bout he hot, he not though Hate to bust bubbles but that's what niggaz get popped fo' Look - I got my glove, bat and ball Catch me pitchin in the trap slingin drug raps and all Let's go!
Taking it from the top? Tippy? Tippy? How High? The Ultimate High [Method Man] Scuse me as I kiss the sky Sing a song of six pence, a pocet full a rye Who the fuck want to die for their culture Stalk the dead body like a vulture Tical get, hmm Blacker than your blackest stallion Hit your house'n projects I represent the Shaolin my nigga Hell yes, Apocalypse now, the gun blow It be goin down, diggy diggy down diggy down down [Redman] While the planets and the stars and the moons collapse When I raise my trigga finga all why'all niggaz hit the decks! Cause ain't no need for that, hustlers and hardcores Raw to the floor raw like Reservoir Dogs The Green-Eyed Bandit can't stand it With more Fruitier Loops then that Toucan Sam Bitch Plus, the Bombazee got me wild (Fuckin with us) is a straight suicide [Method Man] 10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 Murder 1 lyric at your door Tical bring it to that ass raw Breakin all the rules like glass jaws Nigga, you got to get mine to get yours Fucka, we don't need no rap tour I'd rather kick the facts and catch you with the rap-ture More than you bargained for Tical, that stays open like an all night store For real, I keeps it ill like a piece of blue steel Pointed at your temple with the intent to kill And end your existence, M-E-T Ain't no use for resistance, H-O-D [Redman] I bees the ultimate rush to any nigga on dust The Egyptian Musk use to have me pull mad sluts I shift like a clutch with the Ruck Examine my nuts, I don't stop till I get enough Your shit broke down, light your flare Since the darkside tears you into hollywood squares 6 million ways to die, so I chose Made it 6 million and 1 with your eyes closed The blindfold, cold, so you can feel the rap And shatter the glass and second half on your monkey ass And yo my man (Tical) hit me now Bitches use to play me now they can't forget me now Forget me not, I rock the spot, check glock Empty off a licking off a hip hop Fuck the billboard, I'm a bullet on my block How you dope when you payed for your billboard spot? [Chorus] Look up in the sky, it's a bird, it's a plane It's the funk doctor spock smoking Buddha on a train How high? So high that I can kiss the sky How sick? So sick that you can suck my dick Look up in the sky it's a bird it's a plane Recognize, Johnny Blaze, ain't a damn thing changed How high? So High that I can kiss the sky How sick? So Sick that you can suck my dick [Method Man] Til my man Raider Ruckus come home It ain't really on till the Ruckus get, home Puff a meth bone, now I'm off to the red zone We don't need your dirt weed we got a fuckin O Check it, I brings havoc with my hectic Bring the Pain lyrics screamin for the antiseptic Movin on your left kid, and I'm methted, out my fuckin dome piece Plus I got no love for the beast Hailin from the big East Coast Where niggaz pack toast Home of the drug kingpins and cut throats [Hey boy, you's the rude boy on the block You try and stop the bum rush you will get popped] As I run around with a racist My style was born in the 50 stair cases Dig it, eff a rap critic He talk about it while I live it If Red got the blunt, I'm the second one to hit it [Redman] Look up in the, I got the verbs, nouns and glocks in ya Enter the centa, lyrics bang like rico-chet Rabbit, I brings havoc with an A-K matic Rollin blunts an all day habit I get it on like Smif'n'Wes Punks take a sip and test Who split your vest The funk phenomenon I'm bombin you like Lebanon Blow canals of Panama Just off stamina Styles not to be fucked with, or played with Fuck the pretty hoes, I love those Section A Bit-ches Hitting switches, Twisting wigs with Fat radical mathematical type scriptures I dig up in your planets like Diga, Boo, scared you, blew you to smithe-reens Fuck the marines, I got machines To light the spliff, and read Mad magazine I fly more heads than Continental Wreck ya 5 times like US AIR off an instrumental Look I'm not a half way crook with bad looks But I may murder your case like your name was Cal Brooks I breaks em up proppa Ask Biggie Smalls 'Who Shot Ya' Funk doctor, with the 12 Gauge Mossberg Look, I got the tools like Rickle To make your mind tickle For the nine nickle (Yo Red, yo Red!) Punk ass pussy ass [You ain't gotta say no more man, that's it] Word up Tical, We Out (It's over)
Microphone checka, swingin sword lecture closin down the sectar supreme neck protector Bet I won em kid Mr. Metha warmin pot about to blow his lid from the pressure, too hot for TV but cheesy, Too many wanna be hard be easy, is all in together going all not together it don't take much to please me Still homes are never satisfy like the stones we don't condome bitin in the sellin crossbones protectin what am writin don't clash with the Titan who blast with a liscence to kill rap presitence C'mon, in the zone with ya nigga from the Group Home TICAL!!(Fuck your lifestyle!!) (Blew wind)...put your lights out got the shit the crackin got you fienin with your pipes out time for some action, surfin the avenue mad at you, where I used to battle crews back when Antoinette had that attitude Cover me I'm going in, walls closin in got us bustin off these pistols my niggas got issues...again, same song armed with the mega bomb Blow you out the frame and I'm gone.
[Verse Two: Redman]
I was going to Buck-we-romes, cellular phones Doc-Meth back in the flesh, blood and bone don't condone Spent bank loans and homegrown suckers break like Turbo in no zone, when I, grab the broom moon-walk platoon hawk my goons spark leave you in a blue lagoon lost (true) three nines and a glove with masu di die in the car right behind on the boss Haters don't touch, weigh us both up now my neighbor doped up got the cable hooked up. All channels lift my shirt all Mammal you ship off keys and we ship Grand Pianos. sawed off shotgun hand on the pump, sippin on a forty smokin on a blunt bust my gun and Red and Meth gettin jumped La la la la, la la la laaaaa
yeah c'mon, Red and Meth gettin jumped La la la la, la la la laaaaaa
