Альбом Method Man

*sounds of fighting*

"You've been lucky... I wish I got you last time.
En garde, I'll let you try my Wu-Tang style."
"I'd like to try your Wu-Tang style, let's begin then!"

Intro: Method (and others)

From the tip top?
(Aiyyo aiyyo, what the fuck's up with light dude?)
Yup
One two (no doubt, no doubt)
One two one two
Yo one two, uh, one two one two (yeahh, we gon' be up in that)
Ah one two, uh, one two one two (yeah light that shit up)
Ah one two yo, check me out

Chorus:

What's that shit that they be smokin? Tical... tical, tical
Pass it over here... tical... tical, tical
What's that shit the niggaz smokin? Tical... tical, tical
Pass it over here... tical... tical, tical

Verse One:

Check it, I got styles, all of em sick
Niggaz ain't fit to walk a mile in the dead man's kicks
I make em shit about a pile, of bricks to show
He ain't nuttin but another, a lone John Doe
That wanna flow, here it is, comin up shit's creek
I come to throw monkey wrenches in your program, sleep
and I'ma grow, like a rash on ya nasty ass
In a whip, with no breaks and I'm hittin the gas
It's a bird, it's a plane, take a look in the sky
Method Man on some shit, niggaz call me The Fly
Cause my style, dates back to hoppin turnstyles
Make ya fear, if ya cutie in the chair, you can bet I'll
get severe on the double I harass it
I don't look for trouble, I'm already trouble
Ya bastard, check the wicked flows that I crafted
Open up a deadly venom style to be mastered
By a psychopathic, way beyond an average
Joe, with a hellafied flow, there ya have it

Chorus

One two, uh, one two one two
One two, uh, one two one two
One two, uh, one two one two
Check it out

Verse Two:

What goes off? What goes on? The Meth shit
that we got is to stay high, no question
Lethal weapon, ain't no time for half steppin
When brothers start wettin everything in ya section
Move that, niggaz came strapped, shoulda knew that
Do dat, pussy cat rap, boy, I'll screw that
To' up, from the flow up, don't even show up
To the battle, I heard you rattle now hold up
Is there a fuckin snake in my garden?
Starvin, for a rap treat, steppin on my feet
Pardon yo delf, before ya find yo delf
In a FUCKED UP situation, without no help
I'm not playin, cause I don't play with nobody
God damn kid, know what I'm sayin, I'm peelin niggas wigs
I be sprayin, brother with words
Cause I got a spit PRAAA-BLEM

Chorus

One two uh, one two one two
One two uh... (stick a fat tical in your butt, yeah baby fuckin with tical)

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

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

Chorus:

You're all that I need, I'll be there for you
If you keep it real with me, I'll keep it real witchu
Loving your whole schemes, it be in there boo
On top of that you got the good power-U

Verse One:

Check it out
Shorty I'm there for you anytime you need me
For real girl, it's me in your world, believe me
Nuttin make a man feel better than a woman
Queen with a crown that be down for whatever
There are few things that's forever, my lady
We can make war or make babies
Back when I was nuttin
You made a brother feel like he was something
That's why I'm with you to this day boo no frontin
Even when the skies were gray
You would rub me on my back and say "Baby it'll be okay"
Now that's real to a brother like me baby
Never ever give my pussy away and keep it tight aight
And I'ma walk these dogs so we can live
In a fat ass crib with thousands of kids
Word life you don't need a ring to be my wife
Just be there for me I'm a make sure we
Be livin in the fucking lap of luxury
I'm realizing that cha didn't have to fuck with me
But cha did now I'm going all out kid
And I got mad love to give, you my nigga

Chorus 2X

Verse Two:

I got a love jonz for your body and your skin tone
Five minutes alone I'm already on the bone
Plus I love the fact you got a mind of your own
No need to shop around you got the good shit at home
Even if I'm locked up North you in the world
Rockin three-fourths of cloth never showin your stuff off, boo
It be true me for you that's how it is
I can be your Noah you can be my Wiz
Then I can be your Sun, you can be my Earth
Resurrect the God through birth
Best believe

f/ RZA, Y-Kim

[Intro: RZA, (Method Man), {Y-Kim}]
Shit is bangin! You see what I'm sayin? Our shit is bangin!
(Our shit is stainin, son) Yo, Shaolin runnin this shit, son!
Runnin this shit! (Stainin) What's up, Y-Kim? 'Sup, nigga?
{What's up, man? What's up?} What's up? Representin Brownsville
Know I'm sayin? Base, peace to all my Brownsville niggaz!
{The alcoholics son} What's goin on, son?
Peace to all my Putnam Avenue motherfuckers! Bedford-stuy!
(Yeah, peace to the valley goat..)
Peace to my Wild Wild West Brighton niggaz!
(Big up The Bridge!)

[Method Man]
All I hear is gun shots
Can I touch somethin? What the Blood Clot!?!
Nigga want Tical, make it happen
You know my fuckin style, fuck the rappin!
We can take it back to eighty-five
if you wanna start actin like you live
It's all good, I'm rollin' with my click
Owls, Backwoods and Phillies
Smokin cess blunts, mixed with illy
Got me flusted, now the whole world looks dusted
I'm in the area with the skill that never rusted (What?)
For real, nigga, touch it and you burn
When will motherfuckers learn?
What be spreadin like a germ? Haha, it's Meth, word
I be that early bird that got the worm and if you check it
I'm on point, like a fax machine you get the message
It's be no question it's them, bust the second guessin's
Keep your thoughts on your lessons
What the Blood Clot!?!
To tell the truth, you don't amaze me
Killa Hill Project, a Star Trek phaser couldn't phase me
What? Check the Raider Ruckus, fuck this
Smoke a Dutchmaster, have 'em screamin for the dutchess
Yeah, I gotta have it, so I strive to stack my papes
If I don't do it for mydelf, I'ma do it for Case
cuz that's my peoples, we givin you injections that be Lethal
Weapons, when niggaz start the half steppin
Then I get evil
but don't let that negative vibe right there mislead you
I'm humble, a fuckin Killa Bee, far from bumble
I sting you *BZZZT* and I bring you
Thirty-six Chambers of head banger, bitch
Why I deal with? I think the mic's on the fritz
Faggot soundmen, they be sabotagin shit!
Look up in the sky, it's a bird, it's a plane...
Meth-Tical, let the whole world know my fuckin name
What the Blood Clot!?!

[Outro: Method Man, (RZA)]
Yeah, yeah, you know what I'm sayin? (Yeah, what? What!?!)
First of all I'd like to give a big peace and shout out
to my brothers in the belly of the beast
Raider Ruckus, y'all got my back and one love
(Y'all niggaz better start stackin)
June Lover, Shitty Brown (Y'all niggaz better get real)
Pussin, Pil, P.L.O., Stack DAT, Dusty, Storm
(All my real ass niggaz get down, to all my niggaz locked down)
SUUU! We still in here, nigga
(Y'all gotta party, locked down in the street, nigga)
Jamel, one love, nigga, Nice, Uncle Eric AKA Shane
(You get your ass beat in the streets)
I ain't forget you, nigga, Shakim, nuttin
Big Sha, K. Fisk, Big Free from Cipher Heat
For all the fugitives on the run
Everybody from Riker's Island to San Quintan
And a big major shout out to my old dad who just got home
on work release, keep your heads up niggaz

Oh my God (You what I'm sayin? Peace to the Gods)
Here we go, here we go, here we go
(You see that, nigga, fuckin Dirty Bastard?

w/ Raekwon the Chef

Intro:

Duel, worthy of a general
If you want to fight, fight with me!
One to one! Man to man!

Get ready to gel team!
Live and direct from the one-six-ooh
We got Tical, pow! Raekwon the Chef, Tical!
It's about to go on, Tical!
You make the call, I make the call!
It's all for all
Method Man, Raekwon the Chef
(count my shells)
And there's about to be one left
(count my shells, nigga)
I know you know it'son kid
(Bring that shit I don't give a fuck!)
*bell rings*

Verse One: Method Man

Who lit that shit it was I the chinky-eye
Cheeba-hawk from New York, Tical Staten Isle
niggaz thought, that they could walk a dog but they caught
a bad situation, cause I'm a sandwich short
of a picnic, cause you ain't equipped with the sickening
style, blowing up the spot like ballistic
missiles, I be comin through like the four-nine-three-eleven
tearing up the power-u, Me-Tical
A bad motherfucking buddah monk, what the fuck
hit your chest, like cardiac arrest, blow the front
out the frame, hit the pussycat for the pain
of the dog shit, nobody move run your garments
A rugged vet, terrible like a Champion sweat
Wrap a power in a tec, to wet
a nigga up, with all the dangerous diseases
Sniffling sneezing coughing aching stuffy head fever
Fucker, I think it's bout time that you suffer
Bobbin on my nob like an all day sucker
*bell rings* Bitch!
Meth Vs. Chef
(it's my turn) Meth Vs. Chef
(yo let's bring that shit baby) Meth Vs. Chef
(yo, yeah, one more time nigga) Meth Vs. Chef
(callin me out, it's goin off) I blow your fuckin ass to death
*bell rings*

Verse Two: Raekwon the Chef

I'm goin all out kid no turnbacks
You could try to front, get smoked and that's that
Lyric assassin, dressed in black buggin
Sixteen shots to your mug, from a slug then
I go to war in a conrete jungle, make the punt
cause niggaz act funny, and fumble
But I relax, count my shells, a lot of heads gotta fly
Niggaz stay strapped, armed to die
Time for jet-black Tim boot, flowin
Wha-Su God get him, hit em with the nine troop
No question, cha-cha-BLOW in the session
Bloodshot in that direction, cypher
*bell rings*
'Tack you like chess moves best move
Yo, yeah, yo
The boards, your ass
'Tack, 'tack, 'tack, uH! *bell rings*
'Tack the boards like chess moves best move
at Rae through, comin at your motherfuckin crew
Live direct, yeah you better step
Gunshots ring on the set, let's jet
Motivate, to the gate
With some quick high Rae stay fly, and rob your Isle
Airwaves, yo behave
Now you're a slave with the boots that paved the way
*bell rings three times*
Ahh shit!

Intro/Chorus:

We can all get by if we want now
Get a phat piece of the pie if we want
Motherfuckers gettin mad high when they want now
I will survive, recognize it be Tical

Verse One:

Word up, our niggas is strapped, ready for war on the ill block
Things just ain't peace no more, fuck it
If you ain't with me then forget me
Niggas try to stick me, retaliation, no hesitation, shifty
Creepin niggas in the dark, triggas with no heart
Rippin ass apart, I'll be swimmin with the sharks now
Stay out my water or it's manslaughter
Kid, you oughta start reachin for that nickle-plated auto-
Matic, my thoughts get sporadic, loaded raps
Bustin mad shots to ya attic
They say this hazard, this flows a hazard
Straight from Hazard County with a bounty on his head, and it said
"Wanted Dead or Alive," I swear by the whites of they eyes
To never take a dive I will survive

Chorus

Verse Two:

Shit's gonna happen if niggas start actin
Like they want problems, you want em, you got em
Rap contact, is writin this exactly, the way it should be
Attacked, Killer Beeeees on a swarm
So what my martial law drops bombs like Qur'an
The ism helps to stimulate my pugilism
I bust rhymes like jizm, impregnate the rhythm with the wisdom
Decipher the flow, I be hyper, I bring all the styles
That rekindle like old flames
Saliva, check the wicked flows I deliva
Oops, I mean deliver like the Hudson River
Styles be tight, trite like a thief in the night
I be the sneaky-ass nigga bustin nuts in yo wife
Blasted, buggin off Bacardi and acid

f/ Blue Raspberry

Intro/Chorus: Blue Raspberry

When I first stepped on the scene, niggaz was petrified
Jet back to the lab like they were being chased by homicide
My rap flow does you like Tical, and it will never steer you wrong
And all you bitch-ass niggaz in the industry
your careers won't be lasting long

Chorus

Verse One:

Check it, I'm the fuckin man, who they mention
Notice, that other niggaz rap styles is bogus
Doo-doo, prepare for this verse Tical voodoo
Blazin, the stuff that ignites stimulation
Inside ya, cuz I be that house over water
forgot in the realm that be deep as the Poseidon
adventure, niggaz need to touch they freakin picture
For the sickness, that be spreadin with the quickness
Remedies, cousin I be doin on my enemies
Penalty, then I drink forties to they memories
Emotion, rushin through your down street vicinity
Blunt smoke, in the air reveals my identity

(Tical.... tical... ti-cal, ti-cal...)
As I keep it movin, we keep it movin uh
Keep it movin, and keep it movin uh
Keep it movin baby we be movin uh
Keep it movin, we keep it huh RHARHHH
What's that rhythm what's that sound
Party people getting down
When it hit the baddest man
Just release, yo delf!!

Verse Two:

My God, somebody said it's on, if it isn't I'll be set
To blow a nigga up, with my Five Fingers of Death
I bring it to his whole damn fam, understand
If he frontin, on any man down with the Clan
I be comin, for the headpiece you can't cope
For my brother, I bring it to the Pope, word to mother
Serial, killa, style from Big Isle
No Stat, my peoples are you with me where you at?
Shit's gettin deep in here, I mean thick
Niggaz lookin all in my face like they want dick
It's about to hit the fan, hit the flo'
That's all I can stands, and I can't stands no mo'
What is it? Niggaz think they bigga
Cause they got the finga on the trigga of a pistol
They don't know I'm wicked, when I start to kick it
With the raw sound, wash it down with a Mystic
Then I add a Snapple, nigga want the juice
But he don't want the hassle
Then we try to overthrow the castle
Better yet the tent when I'm comin to your town
Black man, the rental, God, the pistol
YAH! If you don't want a burn from GLOCK
Then beware, I buck shots, we move up, the buck stops
Here, no more dough will be made
Unless it's being made by hoes

What's that rhythm what's that sound
Party people getting down
When it hit the baddest man
Just breathe in, till then
And keep it movin, baby keep it movin
I plan to keep it movin, you know we keep it movin uh
And keep it movin, baby we be movin uh
And keep it movin, you know we keep it movin uh
And keep it movin, you know we keep it movin
Baby we be movin, you know we keep it moo..RARHRAH

Chorus

Outro:

Throw your hands in the sky
And wave em from side to side
And if you're ready to spark up the Meth-Tical
Let me hear you say stim-uli

f/ Carlton Fisk

Chorus:

P.L.O. style, Buddha monks with the Owls
P.L.O. style, Buddha monks with the Owls
P.L.O. style, Buddha monks with the Owls
P.L.O. style...

Verse One: Method Man

Here comes the ruckus, the motherfuckin ruckus
Thousands of cut-throats and purse-snatchin fucks
Straight from the brain, I'll be givin you the pain, anger
Comin from the 36th Chamber, Bang!
Tical, hittin with the Buddha-Fist style
Shotgun slammin in your chestpiece, plow!
Brain, is blown all over the terrain
Like a man without no arms you can't hang
Time for a change of the guard
You've been arrested for lyric fraud now you hard
For real, check it, I pull strings like B.B. King on guitar
I'm the true fist of the North Star!

Verse Two: Carlton Fisk, Method Man

Ooooooooh! What a tangled web we weave
When first we practice to decieve
Guns be clickin, runnin with my clan we be stickin
Whatever, my street family stays together
Represent what I invent, killa hill
Resident, rest in peace to my nigga Two Cent
The street life is the only life I know
I live by the code style it's mad P.L.O...

Iranian thoughts and cover like an Arabian
Grab a nigga on the spot and put a nine to his cranium

I..can't...get no satisfaction, niggas won't be lastin
Long, unless they get protaction, for real
Strong, comin with my clan so what's happenin
Commercial rap, hate it with a passion

The M-E-T-H-O-D got me drinkin O.E. all night in a M.P.V.
Just maxin, lookin for hoes, you know relaxin
Bitches know the hour it be time for some action

P.L.O., peace to that nigga Barryano
Word up, let's take him to the bridge, Verrazano

"Good.. Wu-Tang martial expert
There's not many, who can match up with him"

(He'll give you a heart condition
if you fuck around like that there
Tell you it ain't no good for the bloodstream
You know god damn whatever and uhh
it's dumb and big -- it's DUMB AND BIG)
Mira, Meth-Tical comin through with the suu
(Lie in cut for y'all)
Check it out

Niggaz wanna test my steez, nigga please
I black that eye like peas, you better freeze
in your tracks, a Wu-Tang (bzzz) killer bee's on ya back
I comes for the honey plus the phat money sack
You want it all? Yeah I want it all like THAT
I stab my own moms in the back for a stack
Niggaz like, "Damn, why you want it like that?" (Why is that?)
Cause I'm a dog, and I got no love for the cat (uhh)
Attitude's cold like the North polar cap
Where I do my dirt's a little further down the map (Is that so?)
A little buckwhylin, Island called Stat'
Where niggaz carry gats in they Black Moon hat
Now I'm mad known for the bones and the rap
And youse an unknown with a faulty contract
Wake up and smell the Met-chod motherfucker contact
Villain in the cypher from the foe when head crack
An Indian giver and I'm out to take it back
Shaolin Island, baby where you at?
A runaway train that be runnin on ya track
That's how it's goin down, yeah, it's goin down like that

I gets my thang in action
To live, to love, to see, to learn
Yo! Tell em what's happenin!

(What's happenin?
I'll tell yo' ass what's happenin
Tell em what's happenin
It's goin on out here - brothers ain't got no peers
and they smokin funny - shuddup yo' damn mouth!)

[Method Man]
I swing funky rap routines and tap the jaws
Spot ya twenty points and you still can't score
NUTTIN - cause you ain't got no points in this game
Kid you FRONTIN - I'm home run hittin, you be buntin
Fresh out the toilet, I got my shit together
When I'm good, I'm good, when bad, I'm better
You want it? Whatever - I'll be the stormy weather
rain comin down, so weatherproof your leather
JACKET, a nigga with a AXE couldn't HACK IT
I spark em like a match (ssskt)
Coming back it's the Met-chod, say it loud
I'm the Met-chod, Man - clap yo' hands, now check it
See me in the mix, rollin fat, bustin flicks
While my physical brother came through and got me lift
Niggaz, that I walk by, give me the eye
The moment is fuckin me up, killin my high
Nigga get back, ya pussy cat, I'm fearsome
Basically THAT, I'm all of THAT, and then some
While I, was out on tour, goin beserk
I heard you was at the sandbox and kickin DIRT
All on my name but you can't pull my file
YOU DON'T KNOW ME, AND YOU DON'T KNOW MY STYLE
Comin out dere like dat dere, YEAHHHH
Even Grizzly Adams couldn't bear

(Ahhheheh, I taught the boy everything he KNOW
Go on you bad motherfuckers
See I told you that kid go back to that Dolemite
Everybody needs to love Dolemite
I love Dolemite, you love Dolemite
Hey, how you doin nigga, I know you
Knowin I didn't when I did
Meth-Tical
Shiiit, I told the boy
If ya can't get yourself a ten
The least you can do is spark five two's

f/ RZA, Inspector Deck, Street Thug, Carlton Fisk

Intro: RZA (singing by Blue Raspberry)

*bees buzzing*
*man screaming in torture*

This is... (Mr. Sandman bring me a good dream)
Serious, the craziest
... d-da, (Mr. Sandman bring me a good dream) day-da
Danger, dangerous... style

Verse One: RZA

Lyrical shots from the glock
bust bullet holes on the chops, I want the number one spot
With the science, of a giant
New York defiant, brutal like domestic violence
Silence of the Lambs, o-ccured when I slammed in
Foes grab their chairs, to be mad as Ralph Cramden
Others come with shit, as silly as Art Carney
But my Tetley triplizes, more kids than Barney
Never need for stress there's three bags of sess
a damn I rest, playing chess, yes
My thoughts be sneaky like a crook from Brooklyn
When you ain't lookin, I take the queen, with the rook then
I get vexed, layin phat trax on Ampex
Morphous God, gettin drunk, off a Triple X
Violent time, I got more love than valentines
The violent mind, I blast with a silent nine

Verse Two: Inspector Deck

My hazardous thoughts to cut the mic's life support short
Brains get stained like tablecloths when I let off
Powerful, poetry pushed past the point of no return
Leavin mics with third-degree burns
Let me at 'em, I cramp your style like a spasm
Track em through the mud then I bag em
We're screaming hardcore, hip-hop drips out my balls
and I be raw, for four score plus seven more
I strike like a bowling ball, holding y'all hostage
like hail, electrifying the third rail
Peep the smash on paragraphs of ruckus
Wu-Tang (Clan ain't nuttin ta fuck wit)

Verse Three: Method Man

Hot time, summer in the city
My people represent, get busy
The heat-seeker, on a mission from hell's kitchen
I gets in where I fits in for head-touchin, listen
Enemy, is the industry got me flippin
I don't give a fuck tell that bitch and a nigga
I'm killin, snipin, catchin murder cases
Desert Storm-in, I be searchin for oasis
As I run a mile with a racist
Pullin, swords, hit the Billboard with a bullet
Peace to the number seven
Everybody else get the fo'-nine-three-eleven
(Mr. Sandman bring me a good dream)
I don't know what's going on
if you can take us there...

Verse Four: Street Thug

Yo, watch me bang the headpiece there's no survival
My flow lights up the block like a homicidal
murder, underground beef for the burger
P.L.O., criminal thoughts you never heard of
I switch, the city never sleeps, life's a bitch
I shit, runnin through bitches like Emmitt Smith
Caution, niggaz best to be careful crossin
the street, before they end up layin in a coffin
Don't sleep, niggaz tend to forget, however
Peep this -- my nigga Case lives forever

Verse Five: Carlton Fisk

What evil lurks in the heart of men?
It be the shadow, street-life, flowin again
I had a plot, scheme, I knew for sure
Only one kid would knock the hinges off the door
The jerk tried to jet, Sabrina at his neck
Thirteen pounds on the table plus a tec
Just when I said, "Where the fuck's the cream?"
Another jerk came out the kitchen with the M-16
He tried to cock it, blast these shots like, rockets
Crushed his collarbone, ripped his arm out the socket
My move for the table was swift, I got my hostage
(The nigga tried to stab you God!) but I dodged it
Niggaz said, "Carlton youse a ill motherfucker"
Cause I made it look like they both killed each other
And I'm out

(Mr. Sandman bring me a good dream)

f/ Blue Raspberry


Let's come together for the stimulation
Meth-Tical hit 'em with the stimultaion


I got 36 styles on my mind,
Keep it real, Shaolin represent one (time)
All my peoples are you with me, where you at? (suuuu)
All my killer bees on attack, where you at? (suuuu)
Throw ya fuckin' hands in the air if you wanna mix
If ya got ya gats peel a cap for the new year
Blinding devotion,
What's the commotion?
Wu-Tang clan (????)
Flowin' like the ocean (bluue)
I be comin' for your (crewww)
Flyin' guillotine (styyyle)
With the name Meth-Tical
Is it on?
Is it on?
Is it gone?
If I ain't on ya records then the shit ain't really on
One man band from the Wu-Tang clan
Ask who the man, goddamn, it be Method
Here-here I am in the plan (????)
Puttin' Def Jam's on my records
It's onnnn


Let's come together for the stimulation
Meth-Tical hit 'em with the stimultaion
Can everybody feel the stimulation
Meth-Tical hit 'em with the stimulation


I'm here for you son, I gotcha back
As long as you keep it real, word, I gotcha back
Brothers want the drama but don't know how to act
Until the chrome pointed at his dome head crack
C'mon let's keep it real, no disguise, recognize
From my sword chop what a nigga do?
A nigga dies
That's why I'm stressin' that brothers keep they thoughts on they lesson
Ressurect yo mind from the essence
For real
Ill block nigga get rocked like by the dozen,
Whaddup cousin?
Now give a pound to that lounge nigga
Peace, my MZA, killa hills 10304 (????)
So I just, uh,
Make my way for the Wu building
Now I'm chillin' with the neighborhood villans thug life it be on now
Hear the gun blaow as I milk another cow
Let the method show you how niggas do it
I study,
In the life of good, bad, and ugly
Part time call that nigga lovely
But that ain't nuttin'
Before I die, I'm a leave the world,
With something,
To remember me by
The real stimuli
Fool you be frontin'

I keep it when I part like a natural disaster
I keep it live
Time more than '85
And (????) third eye got me thinkin'
Mabye you and I should get together for whatever
You never in ya long ligge-life had it better
Then you got it now
We be lifted, tical
Word, son, I like yo style




Basically,
I'm here for the stimuli
To get high and for doughnuts
Meth-Tical, it's 9-4, and it's raw, once more
The Wu-Tang saga continues

Typed by: OHHLA.com

Chorus:

M-E-T, H-O-D, Man
M-E-T, H-O-D, Man
M-E-T, H-O-D, Man
M-E-T, H-O-D, Man

Hey you get off my clooud
Let me get raw with my southpaw style
Mover, puffin' on a fat blunt from Cuba
It's the Meth-Tical jet to Cal, I'm the buddha
Monk on the hunt for machine gun foes
I keeps you open like a slug from the shotgun punk
Double-barrel, yeah Meth bring it to them proper
Partner, you ain't got no wins in me casa
Straight up, you movin' too fast so baby wait up
Took one, added seven more now you eight up
Get on down wit' your bad self
Get on down, listen to the sound, come on
Few can ever get this whole commit legit
See you all up in my dick
But you don't know shit, uh-huh
What's your definition of a real emcee
From what you dedicated, hey it must be me
Meth-Tical, a lewd descendant of the loud hip-hop
I go on to the break of dawn, and just don't stop
Give me the green light, and the sign one way
Have you had your meth today
Huh, move it in, move it out
Stick it in, pull it out
Shake it up, shake it down
Come on down, Meth-Tical
Oh I often pray that I will
But today I am still
Just a...

Chorus

M-E-T, H-O-D, Man
M-E-T, H-O-D, Man
M-E-T, H-O-D, Man
M-E-T, H-O-D, Man

Rrrappers can't get with the style extra wicked
Rap flow is bangin' like butter on a biscuit
A tisket, a tasket I'm not tryin' to have it
Mic flow show up and try to grab it
?
?
I breaks it down, I gets loud for my crowd
Filthy, dirty like a worm underground
Turn into a crazy early bird, that's my word
Before I kick the bucket I'm a kick 'em to the dirt
Check out the cloud, smoke out from the mouth
Other brothers got mad love (?) style for the hood, hey
Enter the square if you dare
Without a fro, I'm so raw that I'm real
I'm goin' to the country, I'm goin' to the fair
To see the senorita, with flowers in her hair
And get mine, cuz she love me long time
Bartender bring more wine
Get in line for the...

Chorus

M-E-T, H-O-D, Man
M-E-T, H-O-D, Man
M-E-T, H-O-D, Man
Here I am, here I am, the Method Man

Wu-Tang, killer bees on the swarm, it ain't safe no more

Rugged style, it's enough to make a hardrock smile
Ha ha ha, cheeba cheeba y'all
Cheeba cheeba y'all, and you don't stop
Yeah yeah, cootie in the chair
Cheeba cheeba y'all, and you don't stop
Yeah yeah, cootie in the -- check Tical

(sample: Notorious B.I.G.)

You're all, I need
(Lie together, cry together, I swear to God I hope we fuckin die together)
to get by, ahhhhh
You're all, I need
(Lie together, cry together, I swear to God I hope we fuckin die together)
to get by, ahhhhh

Shorty I'm there for you anytime you need me
For real girl, it's me in your world, believe me
Nuttin make a man feel better than a woman
Queen with a crown that be down for whatever
There are few things that's forever, my lady
We can make war or make babies
Back when I was nothin
You made a brother feel like he was somethin
That's why I'm with you to this day boo no frontin
Even when the skies were gray
You would rub me on my back and say "Baby it'll be okay"
Now that's real to a brother like me baby
Never ever give my cootie away and keep it tight aight
And I'ma walk these dogs so we can live
In a fat ass crib with thousands of kids
Word life you don't need a ring to be my wife
Just be there for me and I'ma make sure we
Be livin in the effin lap of luxury
I'm realizing that you didn't have to funk wit me
But you did, now I'm going all out kid
And I got mad love to give, you my nigga

[Chorus Mary J. Blige - 2X]

Like sweet morning dew
I took one look at you
And it was plain to see
You were my destiny
With you I'll spend my time
I'll dedicate my life
I'll sacrifice for you
Dedicate my life for you

I got a love jonz for your body and your skin tone
Five minutes alone I'm already on the bone
Plus I love the fact you got a mind of your own
No need to shop around you got the good stuff at home
Even if I'm locked up North you in the world
Wrapped in three-fourths of cloth never showin your stuff off, boo
It be true me for you that's how it is
I be your Noah, you be my Wiz
I'm your Mister, you my Mrs. with hugs and kisses
Valentine cards and birthday wishes? Please
Be on another level of planning, of understanding
the bond between man and woman, and child
The highest elevation, cuz we above
All that romance crap, just show your love

[Chorus repeats until end)]

[Method Man]

I'm sick of police
Ha ha ha, cheeba cheeba y'all
And you don't stop
Yeah yeah, cootie in the -- Tical!
Cheeba cheeba y'all, and you don't stop
Yeah yeah, cootie in the chair, Tical!
Cheeba cheeba y'all, and you don't stop
Yeah yeah, cootie in the chair, Tical
Mary J. raw