Method Man/Redman

[**//Feng-Shu\\*]

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: Meth & Red

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'



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'ma blackout on just one drink?

You must be crazy! A little off the wall maybe

Go get a shrink...



Chorus




Lyrics by:

http://www.lyrics.com / http://www.geocities.com/SunsetStrip/Exhibit/7421/WuLyrics/methrblackout.html

[**//Feng-Shu\\*]

Method Man

Yeah.. yeah.. huahh.. hahh..

Murda murda murda, kill kill kill

That's right.. (killer, killer)

Murda murda murda, kill kill kill

Flex.. flex.. flex.. flex..

(I'm going to kill you!)



Verse One: Method Man

Slowly I turn, step by step

Through the back window, I crept

Silent as a mouse on the set

While everybody in the house slept

I disconnect the phones and the rest

Find a butcher knife, cut the power lines to the lights

Now a nigga wild for the night

I come like the livin dead, straight from the dirt

Back to avenge his own death on this earth

Ever hear of Jason? Then you know my work

Down to the basement, the dog get it first

I can't help myself, my thoughts ain't my own

The voices in my head just won't leave me alone

Murda murda murda, kill kill kill

Pissin on the car seats, flattenin the wheels

So there's no escape from the fate that awaits

No one to witness the horror takin place

Yea! Now I'm on my way up the stairs

To the bedroom of my prey unaware

Heads will be hung from the chimney with care

with hopes that the police soon will be here

I'm a KILLER!



(Eye Witness News, channel 7

We are at the scene, of a, horrific crime ladies and gentlemen

I can't describe it right now..)



Verse Two: Redman

Yo..

Yo, **** knockin, kick the door, evict the four

Yell out, "It's a stick-up, hit the floor!"

You fish cake niggaz, stay lippin off

Did your mama name you, or Mrs. Paul's?

Battlin session, what's up with it?

I talk like I walk with a ****ed up pivot

Niggaz scream out, "It's just us bitches!"

"Don't shoot," out the phone booth

I aim at your party, hit the wrong group

"Happy birth..." oooh, ooh ooh ooh!

Niggaz done snapped, runnin hunchback

Duckin, brick walls get thumbtacked

So run laps, 'fore I body you

Bust out the sides, like karate shoes

Doc, turned velcro when night falls

Central Park joggers, wear bright clothes

Tai-Bo five flows

Lizard, Centipede, Snake - I'm a KILLER!



[singer]

Cereal, cereal killer (This is the sound of a cow)

Cereal, cereal killer (Arf arf, aowwwwwwwww!)



Redman

Yo, yo

I walk on backs like Mr. Bentley

After P-P-P stripped you empty

Gather round, for rapid sound

Fourth of July was three months ago, should I pat him down?

No one, would fold both thumbs

and eight fingers, to square with Joe Young

Tongue below one, spit dumb, moron

for whiteboys to snowboard on

"So What 'Cha What 'Cha What 'Cha Want?"

Chew Spearmint gum, two double pump

Two cannons, piece by piece

Your School get Dazed like G Phi G

Murda murda murda, kill kill kill

Take nuts and screws out ferris wheels

If you ain't Missy, payin no bills

Body you in supermarket, no frills



Murda murda murda, kill kill kill (flex.. flex..)

Murda murda murda, kill kill kill

(murda murda murda, kill kill kill)



Verse Four: Method Man

Doc hold my coat, I'm bout to go low

Titanic MC rock the boat Meth

Tone def rhyme microphone sex line

Next time don't forget the TEC-9 step, Bob Digital

Context is critical

Bomb threat these individiuals that's on deck

So you the illest nigga in Nebraska?

Hell nah! It's the Master

Number sixteen, party crasher, flex

I think too much, I drink too much

My crew don't really give two ****s, about you ducks

We over here Shaolin What?!

Spontaneous combust' when I smoke a bag of dust

Ahhh what a rush, cigar be the Dutch

Method Man and Redman, Starsky and Hutch

I crush MC's, can't trust niggaz

niggaz can't trust me, I'm a KILLER!



[singer]

Cereal, cereal killer

Cereal, cereal killer

Cereal, cereal killer

Cereal, cereal killer..