METHOD MAN The Meth Lab LYRICS
The Meth Lab
(feat. Hanz On & Streetlife)
[Intro:]
I'll give you three seconds to come out wit' your hands up, one, two
This is my own private domicile
I will not be harassed, motherfucker!
[Verse 1: Method Man]
Welcome to the meth lab, listen, it's time to cook
Not confessions of a video vixen, we by the book
Start the fire, I can tell what you thinkin' just by a look
I'm a crook, like some fish in a barrel, I got 'em hooked
Blame the Method, your sanity took, go 'head, admit it
You a meth head that live on the edge, just need a push
I'm your pusher, supplier, I'm back, the cheese on the wire
If a snitch burnin', wouldn't even piss on the fire
Now you kids learnin', I ain't tryin' to preach to the choir
Now the kids earnin' like them dealers that he admire
Got that whip workin' like I'm sacrificin' a virgin
That's a burden, but I'm certain you're feelin' it, after you try
You can't deny I cook a batch like, 'Woo'
Hazardous material, you'd need a hazmat suit
Now you lookin' at me like, 'What's a hazmat suit?'
Somethin' used to move a body, you don't have that loop
[Bridge 1:]
Let's talk about trust
I told you not to cook my recipe
And you went ahead and did it anyway
Cause I never said I wouldn't cook it
Cause it ain't yours, it's ours, bitch
[Verse 2: Hanz On]
Hookers in the kitchen, chemistry is the best recipe
Especially this shit, I'm takin' on bets
Pressure cookers, percolate 'em like chefs
Meth labs here to the West, wools on them gear trims grassed
Mr. Barker, General, front and center (What up?)
Got them burners wit' them bodies on them, have me in cuffs
Killer's focused, slam it up in them trucks
Eyes low, grippin' the toast, trigger finger, playin' it close
You think it's a game? It's imperative, we show 'em we live
These niggas playin' wit' this money, funny how niggas die
They say it's over when the fat kid cry, ratchets fly here to the Chi'
[Bridge 2:]
You think you can stop me from cookin'?
You cook whatever you like, as long it's that B work
These niggas be runnin' around in the street wit' everyday
Don't even think about usin' my grade A
You should try and stop me, bitch
[Verse 3: Streetlife]
I'm in the meth lab concoctin' another concoction
Decisions, decisions, just weighin' my options
The formula highly addictive, it's havoc for me
Side effects life-threatenin', the surgeon's warnin'
I write a prescription just for meth abusers
Regulate your dose intake for heavy users
For generations, I been servin' these rap fiends
Babies born addicted to the metric, know what I mean?
You're recoverin', but you still use frequently
So wet your court hearin', judge show some leniency
Can't escape old havoc, so you copy the new shit
Wit' your kids in your cars, see, pumpin' that Wu shit
We worldwide, supply and demand, I got the upper-hand
Check my passport, global support
Informant lands non-commercial goods, that raw and uncut
That got them breakin' bad at the gate for the re-up
[Outro: Method Man and Streetlife]
What up, Street?
Yo, what up, man?
We gon' put some "Welcome to the meth lab" on there
Man, you know, it's straight gutter shit, nigga
Yeah, you ready to get 'em this time?
Yeah, always, man
Alright, so I'm a leave it up to you
Go 'head, show 'em what you got
********************************************
Straight Gutta
(feat. Redman, Hanz On, Streetlife)
[Verse 1: Streetlife]
I’m from the killa killa hill, we keep it real consistent
For that dollar dollar bill, we will murder you in an instant
Fuck what your name is, you’ll be non-existent
If you ever try to show any form of resistance
I’m strong in the hood. I’m in a good position
When I walk they salute, when I talk they all listen
You acting the part like you in an audition
Where shoot out’s in the parks is a daily tradition
This is modern warfare, we play with live ammunition
Shot you through your third eye, will change your whole disposition
The body never lie, call me the mortician
Every death has a story to tell, so pay attention
Premonitions on my life, slip the banana clip in
Never put your hat on the bed. I’m a little superstitious
Got my black suit on, they say I am acting suspicious
Big gun in my palm, look like my arm is missing
[Hook: Redman]
Ayo one MC two MC
When my gun out, everybody goes down
Word on the street, these boys get butter
Fuck with me, nigga, cause this straight gutta
[Verse 2: Hanz On]
Got my black suit on, we get malicious
Hanz On checking in for the squad, he on his pivot
Got them big guns, make ‘em disappear, call ‘em wizards
Will oblige, till you meet your demise, this shit is physics
Mr. Barka newest gee on the block, he is the shizit
Suffer Mossberg wounds to ya frame, you move a smidgen
Hanz rollin with the man he the Meth, pay you a visit
Prerequisite have them all in the dirt. They all can get it
Used to percolate the crack in the pot, until it dried
Now I am occupying spots on your block, that shit is aye
And when we popping off the gun at your top, we make it pie
You better take another look at your seeds, and holla bye
Yo as far as ma’fuckas concerned, yo this is it
John Blaze press a button on dudes, they getting hit
As far as guns & that street shit go, my niggas fit
Hanz on with the cavalry yo, we in the mix
[Hook: Redman]
Ayo one MC two MC
When my gun out, everybody goes down
Word on the street, these boys get butter
Fuck with me, nigga, cause this straight gutta
[Verse 3: Redman]
I got 28 38’s 48 machine guns
Wu-Tang recon, check out the retard
I want that boat money carrying my green card
Caesar planet of the grapes in the weed jar
I straight gutta, mind on butta
Everything dirty where rubber for the come up
Block nigga shine like a 5D shutta
Red, Hanz & Street run this mother
[Verse 4: Method Man]
We getting buku scrilla
My brothers on their grind
Not another Columbine call me new school killa
Scoop of French vanilla brought a duce duce with her
I might pull a Lil Jon and let the bruce bruce hit her
I’ll be gone till November, cry me a river
You could die, but I figure I’ma try and be the bigger man
I and my gorillas, they gonna fry em up for dinner
Like them boys from Cypress Hill said (how I could just kill a man)
[Hook: Redman]
Ayo one MC two MC
When my gun out, everybody goes down
Word on the street, these boys get butter
Fuck with me, nigga, cause this straight gutta
********************************************
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)
********************************************
50 Shots
(feat. Mack Wilds, Streetlife, Cory Gunz)
[Chorus - Method Man / Mack WildsÑ…:]
Meth Man Cory Gunz go bang
Streetlife gotta knife, homie run your chain
Mack,
Riding around the city and we do our thing
from a city that is known to do crazy things.
You already I’m heavy ya’ll stay in your lane
We ready stat fete still playing the game
Mack, ladies in the show singing every hook,
but they’re gonna get their panties took, so lets go
[Verse 1 - Method Man:]
Aye aye.
Y’all don’t get the picture before we focus.
Facts, look who back,
Crooked like scoliosis, the take over,
Take this line straight up your noses.
This for my smokers,
But this time I up the dosage.
This my closest, to perfection,
My magnum opus.
The magnum smoking,
I’m safe,
Like when the magnum open.
What y’all promoting,
Sex, lies, and true religion.
Now how ironic,
Them jeans ain’t got no true up in em, no wu up in em
No DNA won’t see the day,
You crash my set Lil Mama,
No VMA Meth is a threat,
Zero drama, I’m such a vet.
No need for checking my cuts (Nooo),
Just cut the check.
Who want one, You’ll need Hanz and Cory’s Gunz.
Graffiti some, we spray cans where Cory from.
I dreamed I lost in a food fight and Nore won.
Kidding so it shall be written the story done.
[Chorus - Method Man / Mack Wilds:]
Meth Man Cory Gunz go bang
Streetlife gotta knife, homie run your chain
Mack,
Riding around the city and we do our thing
from a city that is known to do crazy things.
You already I’m heavy ya’ll stay in your lane
We ready stat fete still playing the game
Mack, ladies in the show singing every hook,
but they’re gonna get their panties took, so lets go
[Verse 2 – Cory Gunz:]
Fuck you losers,
While they fake jacks I make maneuvers,
Like Method, Sticking up crews, bumping some Wu shit.
I’m all seasons goose down hoodie and snorkel.
Whatever, whatever you want I’ll off you.
I’m awful, unlawful,
I ain’t the one to talk too.
Thats word to uncle Ghost
I’ll cook your waffle.
Riddle me down,
I’m mentally that,
Freddy the villain is here you remember me back.
Felony killers or kittys,
I chill and trapped in the belly.
No telling me how high and they feel I be strapped.
Waiting for murderers some type of burglar and chompin
and murder burglar upon us some karmas when the curb with
turbulent, been a veteran what you still a virgin,
Dangerous grounds, we stain the clowns I’m burgeon goon platoon,
Some loon buffoons refurnishing, womb for tombs,
Kaboom, you doomed, no surgeon you know.
[Chorus - Method Man / Mack Wilds:]
Meth Man Cory Gunz go bang
Streetlife gotta knife, homie run your chain
Mack,
Riding around the city and we do our thing
from a city that is known to do crazy things.
You already I’m heavy ya’ll stay in your lane
We ready stat fete still playing the game
Mack, ladies in the show singing every hook,
but they’re gonna get their panties took, so lets go
[Verse 3 – Streetlife:]
You could never break me down,
I’m built for this.
Crown fitted for a king I’m victorious.
Its survival of the fit as we are warriors.
For the red, black and green vanglorious.
God body cypher divine,
Dangerous minds,
Spontaneously combine,
It’s the sign of the times.
All things must come to an end,
I’m a ball until then.
No fade away shots,
I’m going hard at the rim.
Might rupture my achilles heel,
Chasing this hundred mill,
Brake pads gone,
Just lost my third wheel.
On my last leg,
Stay kicking like old cabbage and boiled eggs.
Known to hold a grudge,
Won’t stop till they all dead,
Eyes bloodshot red,
Bottle to the head damn forgot what I just said.
Eyes blood, fuck it just on to the next one.
I been around the world never forgot
Where I came from.
[Chorus - Method Man / Mack Wilds:]
Meth Man Cory Gunz go bang
Streetlife gotta knife, homie run your chain
Mack,
Riding around the city and we do our thing
from a city that is known to do crazy things.
You already I’m heavy ya’ll stay in your lane
We ready stat fete still playing the game
Mack, ladies in the show singing every hook,
but they’re gonna get their panties took, so lets go.
********************************************
The Pledge
Yeah pledge allegiance with the stand one nation with liberty & justice for all
After this make sure that you never forget me.
Streetlife mention me amongst the greatest of mc’s.
The brand I represent, stands for excellence.
Loyalty is the main ingredient. They anointed me president.
Consistency is the recipe for longevity.
My history will be my legacy when they bury me.
Its evident to prove my rap pages is evidence,
20 years later in the game, still relevant.
Pain is my motivation, love is the dedication.
Family is the foundation & street is my education.
I pledge allegiance to the meth lab, one nation under god.
This year is my inauguration.
I pledge allegiance, to the flag of the united Staten Island association.
We are the republic, that will leave you laying exactly where you stand,
one nation under the Meth Lab, with all the piffery & unlimited dutches & backwards for all.
********************************************
2 Minutes Of Your Time
I wrote this verse on the 25th,
But half a y’all just aint gon get it till the 26th.
I’m here to analyze ya shooter
Like I’m Kenny Smith.
But I ain’t Kenny,
Kenny can shoot it,
But can he spit?
This ain’t for morons,
Hashtag NEW Yiddi trick, and oxymorons,
Fat broads who skinny dip,
The War Report on,
Better come with your sword on,
I hit ya with that Cee-Lo Green,
You know that short arm.
The people caught on (wait),
I meant to say the People’s Court on (wait)
For the record I hope record on (brake)
Before I wreck it,
Too many styles to go on,
Wu-Tang is for the children,
Go get ya child support on.
I ain’t tryna bring the city back.
And all that pretty boy rap,
Ain’t where I’m really at.
Besides rappers don’t really ride,
they piggy back - I’ll trade them all
to have Tupac & Biggy back.
Facts. Don’t give me dap,
Don’t want your pity want Fifty Fifty,
just give me that.
Want every penny both Hanz on,
how many that?
A black president,
white house, whats really rap?
We not so friendly at my house (clicky clack)
If necessary, pet cemetery, ya kitty cat – Won’t let em eat
cause my other problems too many rats
Ya boy a beast on this mic Jack.
Da ratchet tryna peel (pill) ya like Mike Jack
call that thriller a nite cap.
Take a moment to suck it up,
but make it brief nobody cared if ya cow died,
don’t make it beef.
Rap game we own it,
we really in these streets.
You rap lames is homeless
you really in the streets.
I ain’t tryna bring the city back.
And all that pretty boy rap
ain’t where I’m really at.
Really how sillys that?
Besides rappers don’t really
ride they piggy back.
I’ll trade them all
to have Tupac & Biggy back.
********************************************
Worldwide
(feat. Hanz On, Uncle Murda, Chedda Bang)
[Chorus 2x - Chedda Bang:]
Show some respect when we come through.
Worldwide, let me see your w’s
[Chorus 2x - Hanz On:]
Throw ‘em up, turn em over, what it do, what it do,
Meth Man Murda gonna perish you
[Verse 1 - Method Man:]
These rappers rap backwards, I don’t rap with them rap dudes,
Tupac backwards, pull that ratchet & cap too.
Back to 93 when I still was holding those capsules,
I also had a 38, ya’ll don’t give me no hassle.
Keith Kool, G Rap moves, its only natural,
when on the road to riches, I hit the horn when I pass you beep beep.
Pardon my sneeze. Haters get ‘atchew’,
ballers trying to move with the white, now would Shaq do.
Go harder in the paint. Slap you like ya barber,
or the 6th man, thinking he a starter when he ain’t.
I’m a sick man, but smarter than you think,
and it’s a thin line between the driver & the robber in the bank.
See I’m cut like a barber with a shank, cool
women going swimming with their drinks, pools
now who hasn’t heard her that Meth Man & Uncle Murda
It’s like your cousin trying to kill you with your uncles burner.
[Chorus 2x - Chedda Bang:]
Show some respect when we come through.
Worldwide, let me see your w’s
[Chorus 2x - Hanz On:]
Throw ‘em up, turn em over, what it do, what it do,
Meth Man Murda gonna perish you
[Verse 2 - Uncle Murda:]
Yeah I’m Uncle Murda from the jects
yeah I’m disrespectful, but get a lot respect.
When I’m waving the tech, you better protect your neck.
Got em looking like Inspectah, the way their hitting the deck.
I with the METHOD man, its feelin like the 90’s back when my tech use to jam.
18 putting pressure on these chumps, sending niggas that’s in their 30’s to go & get my dutch.
Cash rules everything around me. I’m cookin a brick.
Feelin like the chef, wearing my Cuban linx. I was ODB, creepin with dirty ho’s.
bumpin 36 chambers with 36 ho’s.
fuck the world, don’t ask me for shit.
This that Brooklyn, Shaolin Big & Meth shit.
This that shit you bump, before you catch a body.
NY back on their shit. I hope these niggas copy.
[Chorus 2x - Chedda Bang:]
Show some respect when we come through.
Worldwide, let me see your w’s
[Chorus 2x - Hanz On:]
Throw ‘em up, turn em over, what it do, what it do,
Meth Man Murda gonna perish you
********************************************
Soundcheck
(feat. Hanz On, Carlton Fisk)
[Hanz On:]
One more time, not again.
Do it again. Hanz On music. check check code red
[Verse 1 - Method Man:]
Mr. Meth check check,
House gang check check.
Players get ejected out, the game that’s a tec tec.
Mayweather fight night homie, I’m still you best bet.
I’m like the homie 2 chains on’me.
Protect your neck, neck.
Opposites attract, I got you standing opposite, the mack
Cops pursuing, now I am swallowing the crack.
This ain’t your role model on the track, simple fact,
This is call of duty, watch my gun nozzle through the map map.
It’s all about survival where we at,
That’s the reason why my father kept the rifle plus a bible on his lap.
Hallelujah, I am playing my position, karma sutra
And anybody play me out position ima shoot ya
[Chorus - Hanz On:]
Yo it’s mic check, check.
Get the Henny bottles check check.
Lock load, bout to body niggas holla check check
Hanz On, is he up & ready, holla check check.
Big fisk trigger finger steady, holla check check.
Streetlife, is he bout that feddy holla check check.
Meth man, is he rollin heavy holla check check.
Hanz On music, i you with us, holla check check
Hanz up, if you bout that dollar, holla check check.
[Verse 2 - Carlton Fisk:]
Take it back to Gucci mocks, polo rugby glocks,
with 21 shots, I am very dirty money.
Carlo consigliere, an I’ma cross the Verazzano.
Where they made a lucky man out of Charlie Luciano.
I cut from a different material.
I scratch off the serial numbers, for its time to get rid of you.
Revenge of Big Den, cocksucker, check check.
Aim for the face, but his neck next.
Promises promises, well baby boy, this is not a death threat.
Organized crime is back with black suits on.
You know that its on, when i hashtag Hannibal voice (get your boots on)
[Chorus - Hanz On:]
Yo it’s mic check, check.
Get the Henny bottles check check.
Lock load, bout to body niggas holla check check
Hanz On, is he up & ready, holla check check.
Big fisk trigger finger steady, holla check check.
Streetlife, is he bout that feddy holla check check.
Meth man, is he rollin heavy holla check check.
Hanz On music, i you with us, holla check check
Hanz up, if you bout that dollar, holla check check.
********************************************
Water
(feat. Chedda Bang)
[Verse 1 – Method Man:]
Ridin’ dirty, got a Ruger in your lap
Black suit, 7:30, couple shooters from the trap
They done killed the homie brother
Whatchu supposed to do with that?
Who’s gonna tell his baby mother that her dude ain’t coming back?
That kind of pain is hard to put into a rap
The block is hot and can’t nobody move a pack
When you shooting onsite, you aim the Ruger at his naps
Cut his tongue, hog-tie him, things we usually do to rats
What? Who gassed you up and threw a match?
Don’t want police to line you up and you a match
Fool them clowns into thinking you a snack
Brought a gun to wash it down and you can drink it through the tap
That’s my reaction, now react
Now try to picture Malcolm X without the strap
If Meth Man could navigate the globe without a map,
I could beat the pussy up without a scratch
[Chorus x2:]
Time ticking teams clicking, it’s a
I’m trying to bury about a trillion
Meth Lab bitch catch us on ya
And when we coming, we be flowing likes it’s water
[Verse 2 – Chedda Bang:]
I’m so ignorant, spend it before I make it make it
pour salt on my food before I taste it
Pour salt in your wounds, right in the basement
All of us, statement, one vision
Rich dreams
Couple scars, I heal quicker than wolverine
Population, pink slips, quarter greens
Hood millionaires hide when the wolves out
Move with security, hold tight to your jewelry
That’s my reaction, now react
Once your hood pass revoked, you never get it back
Benz’s, Bentley’s, nah nigga don’t tempt me
Trust I got it on me, I’ma squeeze til it’s empty
Lord forgive me, i need that new 550
With the cocaine seats, I’m so street
And when the police came, we don’t speak
From my hood to your hood, ain’t nothin sweet
[Chorus x2:]
Time ticking teams clicking, it’s a
I’m trying to bury about a trillion
Meth Lab bitch catch us on ya
And when we coming, we be flowing likes it’s water
********************************************
Lifestyles
[Verse 1 – Freaky Marciano:]
I had a dream, I woke up full of sweat
and in that dream, i was standing on the devils steps
They gave my man 14 and he ain’t lose his breath
knowing the fact he didn’t do it ain’t removing stress
The crew was blessed, popping bottles through the late nights
Thoughts of Mama Joyce will take away the stage fright
Regret that ungrateful time and delayed flights
And since I’m loyal, my decisions kept the gang tight
I gain stripes, I give em up to get my brothers back
Rest in peace, you know we love you and you love us back
Dreams of a Rolls Royce, there ain’t enough of that
To tell my family that i got ‘em made me love the trap
I never slack, I got these reasons why i’m always strapped
I ain’t a trouble maker throw em but i’ll throw em back
I got the visions of a soldier with a real impact
waking up in a new Bugatti, now how real is that?
Motherfucker
[Chorus – Cardi:]
I’m having dreams of that Rolls Royce
When I wake up in a new Bugatti, tell my family I got em
Yeah and I’m stuck in these closed walls, no ways out
Politics is polished to keep me at the bottom
I’ve been suffering from dreams of that Rolls Royce
When I wake up in a new Bugatti, tell my family I got em
Yeah and I’m stuck in these closed walls, no ways out
Politics is polished to keep me at the bottom
[Verse 2 - Eazy Get Rite:]
Okay back to this fly shit
I’m that nigga they getting high with
They hating on Polo niggas could die
Quit you sidekicks, G-O-M-D I bet you know though
Express already expressed that so here we go, oh
Before that it was fall back and get clapped
I ain’t talking no audience, I’m talking more, you fuck around, get held by 6
Get the pic? Photo shoot shit
Touchdown hoes claiming they bad, some neighborhood bust down
Been around snow points, from the club to my man joint
Clown niggas wrestle these bitches
I swear their so doink, You fuckers, i’m mister quicker picker upper
Put a bounty on your bitch because I’m quick to pick her up-ah
On this plane, let Mary fuck her brain
It’s a shame, how every nigga with they own swag, still the same
You lames, pick a lane and drive straight
If you hungry, my nigga, get a snickers and why wait? It’s easy
[Chorus – Cardi:]
I’m having dreams of that Rolls Royce
When I wake up in a new Bugatti, tell my family I got em
Yeah and I’m stuck in these closed walls, no ways out
Politics is polished to keep me at the bottom
I’ve been suffering from dreams of that Rolls Royce
When I wake up in a new Bugatti, tell my family I got em
Yeah and I’m stuck in these closed walls, no ways out
Politics is polished to keep me at the bottom
********************************************
The Purple Tape
(feat. Raekwon, Inspectah Deck)
[Verse 1 – Method Man:]
Yea.. got you..
Hey, lace your boots up, tracks get looped up,
The chocolate deluxe gets scooped up,
All my pigeons is cooped up, Wu’s up, w’s up,
If you ain’t with us, chuck a duce up, and let us do us,
Break a promise but not my group up,
Veterans is dying and used up,
Let’s see if they can hang, i’m already tying the noose up,
I’m too hot, if you not, get you stuffed,
Get you touched and get you shot or you cut,
Young buck i’m just trying to toughen you up,
Can’t let you hustle with us, ya ain’t struggled enough,
Ya’ll been cuddled too much, maybe mothered too much,
So the burner giving out loans here is a couple of bucks,
Had a couple of scuffs, i ain’t sayin i’m perfect,
I ain’t cursing on the rhyme but i wrote it in cursive
Quote the verses, boy i flow with a purpose,
Get that prometh and a soda, come with the purchase,
[Chorus – Method Man & Raekwon:]
Who is that up in the building?
Hashtag we still win
Raekwon no relation to chef tho, but still trend
My young’un tell em it’s them
Wu-Tang is for the children
They bugging, tell em’ again
Wu-Tang is for the children
[Verse 2 – Raekwon:]
Lab with the pole, slide down,
I’m in the basement counting faces,
Drunk on the slouch, count the spaceships,
Jewelry to my knee caps, breathe stacks whores & sleestaks
HSBC see me getting g-packs, herringbones mad stones in em’
The voice is olive green, three doors i’m on bring my goons home,
Puma’s on, points like unicorns, fuming in uniforms,
What you wanna do with me, just sue me homes,
Yea Half Mike half Nike, handle got grip,
Got monkey’s out here ready to flip,
We pull a stunt, grab knots, push cops, just for vengeance,
For killing that real shit independence, far glowing like blonde hair
Probably be the way we be rolling, let’s cash a check y’all bring the broads here,
Until the sun burns out, ain’t nobody eatin’, we on your block now,
Glock up or call the precinct.
[Chorus – Method Man & Raekwon:]
Who is that up in the building?
Hashtag we still win
Raekwon no relation to chef tho, but still trend
My young’un tell em it’s them
Wu-Tang is for the children
They bugging, tell em’ again
Wu-Tang is for the children
[Verse 3 - Inspectah Deck:]
Deck performing on the track, call him Jeff Gordon,
I’m still buzzing this is Hennessey the next morning,
The upset talking, I’m yes yallin for checks,
Bossin’ the set, you acting like my ex calling,
Ain’t that a bitch, not the 5 or the 6,
I rock 7 on my back that’s Kaepernick,
I dazzle like a magic trick, fabulous swordsmen,
Sort of like abortion i ain’t having it, S I ready for action,
Heavily cashing, we set for whatever, what’s happenin’,
Cold like the weather in Aspen, flow everlastin’,
4, 5, 6, your head is crackin’, just a fifth of E&J and a eighth of green,
No promethazine but I make them lean,
I’m running with the real ya’ll chasing dreams,
While the crowd go wild for their favorite team,
[Chorus x2 – Method Man & Raekwon:]
Who is that up in the building?
Hashtag we still win
Raekwon no relation to chef tho, but still trend
My young’un tell em it’s them
Wu-Tang is for the children
They bugging, tell em’ again
Wu-Tang is for the children
********************************************
Intelligent Meth
(feat. Masta Killa, Streetlife, Intell)
Yeah, yeah
Hey yo, Hey yo
[Verse 1 - iNTeLL:]
It’s like I’m trapped inside a cage
I can’t explain this type of rage
It’s not a moment or a phase
But possibly the end of days
Watch as I stand up on the stage
Not as an artist but a slave
Deep inside my subconscious
My music keeping me sane
They say it’s levels to the shit
I say it’s levels to your brain
You can’t acquire the higher
You’ll always remain the same
Regardless of all the money
and bitches yanking your chain
What good is a private plane to a man who can’t walk the plains
Hip-hop is now gen-pop, populated with lames
Attacking you with these frequencies
Meant to destroy your brain
I’m fitting to go supernova
Expose em to superflames
Soon as I pick these locks on these psychological chains
The answer is in the question
The question comes from the pain
And the pain is just electrical signals sent to my brain
but the brain is just a box where information remains
As I try to remain a soldier, the voice in my head explains
[Verse 2 – Method Man:]
I’m still shadowboxing lungs and oxygen
This an icebreaker, no bubblegum was popping
Another hot concoction trick, ya might need amoxicillin
The kid’s too sick, You're gonna need shots to kill em
My method is ill, Doc admit him
When I see you, ICU can get em
Your boy give em bars until the judge acquit him
The court can’t convict him or find the gloves to fit him
That’s OJ, I mean OK, I mean, I’m not kidding, no play
Jealous ones still envy, That’s Jose
Peace to Cartagena, I flow hey
But I don’t speak Spanish, yo no se
I’m a seasoned veteran, obey
Obtain a freestyle, it’s cold pay
The old me, resort to my old ways
My old man was stuck in his old days
Still he wanna blaze like John but rapping ain’t in his forte
[Chorus – Method Man:]
Look how we did it to ya
Y’all just don’t get it do you?
Special deliver to ya
This is how we give it to you
Im’a get it to ya [x4]
What rapper spit it truer?
But they don’t live it, do ya?
My shooter cock the Ruger
This is how we get it to you
Im’a get it to ya [x4]
[Verse 3 – Masta Killa:]
It was only the elite who could walk these streets
With jewels and not get stuck
Niggas didn’t give a fuck
Real G’s know I’m talking about
Taking what you making, stripping what you wearing
caring about nothing
Gun barrel in your face, cold steel on your cheek
This is how we meet and greet
Enemy across the street
Leaning on his Rover jeeps
Smiling, showing all teeth
Seeing son in my hood, it ain’t all sweet
And you haven’t earned the respect
of those who come, creep and take money
So you just food that niggas come eat
And they don’t get no chain back
You might see em rocking that
Fuck you looking at? Problem needs solving
You see that big 357 thing revolving…revolving
[Verse 4 - Streetlife:]
Yeah, you niggas ain’t street
My money talks word of mouth
I figured you out
The life I live, you’re not about
Price on your head, I’m taking cash advances
I’ll take my chances, then deal with the circumstances
Livin’ off the land like a land shark
I’m on the lamb like the gyro with the white sauce
Idle times a devil
Playground, make moves
Watch me kill your whole vibes, crush groove
Hands high, say hello to my little friend
Point the finger at the bad guy, it’s me again
Who are they to criticize me?
I do it like a G
I’m a nigga from the mutha-fucking streets
Throw me in the fire, watch me bubble
I was built for the struggle, my knees never buckle
[Chorus – Method Man:]
Look how we did it to ya
Y’all just don’t get it do you?
Special deliver to ya
This is how we give it to you
Im’a get it to ya [x4]
What rapper spit it truer?
But they don’t live it, do ya?
My shooter cock the Ruger
This is how we get it to you
Im’a get it to ya [x4]
********************************************
Symphony
(feat. Hanz On, Streetlife, Kash Verrazano, Carlton Fisk, Killa Sin)
[Verse 1 - Method Man:]
I’m that OG, some of y’all know me
I used to cop greens from 4G
Nickels, dimes and oz’s
I’m like Thor’s brother, so low key (Loki)
I might swing a hammer, provoke me
Put a shooter where Ko - be
Tell ya like somebody done told me
Never trust nobody who owe me
And any wife is a trophy
If Meth the mortician, you know that shovel is on me
To put em in the earth, I do my dirt all by my lonely
[Verse 2 - Kash Verrazano:]
I’m all about the Benjy’s
But that bring jealousy and envy
Don’t trust niggas, they smile it seems friendly
I’ll be damned if i pass up
It’s for bricks when I mask up and run down
On em to get my cash up
Cash Verrazano J Reeds is getting lined up
Sam Rothstein when I lean slump with the 9 tucked
Come and take a trip to the dark side
Fuck around with pigs, they gonna find your body hog-tied
no guys saying they neutral but playing both sides
Homicide housing young cartel with dope tides
Your boy ain’t playing a little
Have em engraving a tombstone with your name in the middle
[Verse 3 - Carlton Fisk:]
Fugitive on the run, felony warrants
The police, kicking doors, question all the informants
Carlo, feeling like the war’s on and I’m running through hell
Blunt in my mouth, gasoline draws on
Vocals, got a laser beam, no other option for you
Die or embrace the team, offers that you can’t refuse
Hanz On music, mother fucker, yeah say it with me
Now get your smartphone, hater, and take a picture with me
Consigliere, no phones, Jimmy whisper to me
Ride ’til I win the war, Cops put a clip in me
Carlo’s, got killers on the payroll
Killers on the lay-low
Killers that will kill when I say so
[Verse 4 – Hanz On:]
There’s a war going on outside, nobodies safe from
I gotta get this money now, we gon’ take some
A politicing with these clowns, bout to shake something
I’m gonna hit em with the pounds, that’ll break something
Y’all better run and get your boots time tight black
Y’all fornicating with this money, get your life rap
Straight music, motherfucker cause it’s like that
I come and hit em in the dark, call it nightcap
And I be fucking with the starks, he my ace boon
Don’t let us catch you in these parts or we gon' bake rooms
And yo them cats you running with, yo they some fake goons
I’m bout to sweep em in the finals, gonna shake brooms
the situations getting chunky, tension mad thick
Like you could cut it with a knife, cloak and dag’ shit
Hanz baby, PLO on some Arab shit
My killahs coming with them cannons, bout to blast shit
[Verse 5 – Streetlife:]
Streetlife chip off the old block, the hard rock
Apply pressure to your neck ’til your heart stops
Got ‘em all lean like codeine, microphone fiend
I’m an addict, I’m addicted to rap cream
New day is dawning but I’m stuck in my old ways
Gave you fair warning, I’m reloading, okay?
I ain’t gotta say it’s on
Pop up at your front door, early morning
Guns drawn, like ding dong
[Verse 6 – Killa Sin:]
Cash, I get it up
My niggas, I can’t get enough
Won’t stop rocking ’til I’m sitting up on diddy bucks
A semi tuckin, witty fucker
picture getting city stuck
This city buck is sick of flipper
Motherfuckin’ city bus
Big whip, coasting
Throat stroking, slow motion
Slow groove, so smooth
Old school, Billy Ocean
Caribbean Queen, mean body
Dereon jeans
Cherry bomb, the way she blow me
She like heavy on dreams
Enough with the petty con schemes
I need Enron cream
Short minute before I end up with that Benz on lean
********************************************
What You Getting Into
(feat. Streetlife, Donny Cacsh)
[Chorus – Method Man & Donny Cacsh:]
What you getting into, I ain’t doing nothing
Same old shit, making money, niggas frontin
What you getting into, I ain’t doing nothing
About to cop a bag, get a dutch, and fuck something
What you getting into, I ain’t doing nothing
Same old shit, making money, niggas frontin
What you getting into, I ain’t doing nothing
About to cop a bag, get a dutch, and fuck something
This is what I’m into
[Verse 1 – Streetlife:]
Strollin to the building, collect the money, than tell shorty get the rental
We going cross the bridge, we heading up town
cop a couple hundred grams, bring it back make it triple
Stop at the smoke shop, cop them double zero bags
Yeah we got big rocks, those up the block, niggas mad, call up bullet man
I need some more shells, I heard you got the ap9, out the box for sale
[Chorus – Method Man & Donny Cacsh:]
What you getting into, I ain’t doing nothing
Same old shit, making money, niggas frontin
What you getting into, I ain’t doing nothing
About to cop a bag, get a dutch, and fuck something
What you getting into, I ain’t doing nothing
Same old shit, making money, niggas frontin
What you getting into, I ain’t doing nothing
About to cop a bag, get a dutch, and fuck something
This is what I’m into
[Verse 2 - Donny Cacsh:]
I wake and I’m high, I be sleeping on the clouds, like I wake up in the sky
I roll up another one and then I’m getting fly
Then I load up a couple guns, because it’s time to ride
See the money’s what I’m into, ima keep it simple
It I aint getting guap, that shit is poppin like a pimple
Holy as a temple, hair pin trigger so gentle, cant print you
Only way to ID you is through your dental
[Chorus – Method Man & Donny Cacsh:]
What you getting into, I ain’t doing nothing
Same old shit, making money, niggas frontin
What you getting into, I ain’t doing nothing
About to cop a bag, get a dutch, and fuck something
What you getting into, I ain’t doing nothing
Same old shit, making money, niggas frontin
What you getting into, I ain’t doing nothing
About to cop a bag, get a dutch, and fuck something
This is what I’m into
[Verse 3 - Method Man:]
I’m all about this caper, in the group with 9 members
I ain’t trying to split this paper, but that’s another issue
I ain’t rappin with you haters, send you back to meet your maker
And I bet nobody missed you
The island be official, without the striped jersey and the whistle
Put the pistol to you dog, Michael Vick you
Method I’m the Shih Tzu, It only take a word for me to sic you
I mean get you and them goons are going with you
[Chorus – Method Man & Donny Cacsh:]
What you getting into, I ain’t doing nothing
Same old shit, making money, niggas frontin
What you getting into, I ain’t doing nothing
About to cop a bag, get a dutch, and fuck something
What you getting into, I ain’t doing nothing
Same old shit, making money, niggas frontin
What you getting into, I ain’t doing nothing
About to cop a bag, get a dutch, and fuck something
This is what I’m into
********************************************
Another Winter
(feat. Hanz On, Streetlife, Carlton Fisk)
Quick to pop off let a couple shots off leave ‘em bleeding out with his shoes & his socks off
[Verse 1 – Streetlife:]
War dancing. I ain’t trying to make it rain though.
You slow gassing. I’ll leave you brain on your Durango,
first classmen, old school with the Kangol,
thug passion, that pussy juice like a mango,
hulk smashing, make it jump like everlasting,
god body Ramadan, 30 day fasting.
Six two brown skin fellow with the Caesar fade.
360 waves, side burns with a little graze.
I remain relevant; I’m a raw element,
high street intelligent. Product of my tenement.
Son of Anarchy, smoking that Bob Marley. La la la be killing these niggas slowly.
Wake up, smell the coffee, sleep on the street is costly.
Pay attention to the warning signs, don’t cross me.
Give ‘em hypertention. That niggas is getting salty,
I’m quick to pop off back the fuck up off me.
[Chorus - Carlton Fisk:]
Carlton Fisk banana clip silver back gorilla Mr. Streetlife show you what that heat like
[Chorus - Hanz On:]
Hanz on yo we handle them Berettas PLO yo its forever, bout to show em what it be’s like
[Chorus - Method Man:]
Method man, turn a dollar to a million,
killa bees we in the building,
making sure the children eat right eat right.
In the building make sure the babies eat right.
[Chorus - Hanz On:]
In the building make sure the babies eat right.
[Verse 2 - Carlton Fisk:]
Black scenery white chalk yellow tape
Carlo got a bullet proof wallet, bitch in every state,
light that smoke that animals ferocious.
Dealing with the boss mentality really focus
tailor made linen & loafers, louie emblems.
Problems on the street my lieutenant quickly attending them.
Carlito ways, brown bag money,
in the book of life you can’t get stuck to one page.
All in together now, chinchilla bullet proof hoodies for any sign of winter war weather
and daddy gonna get that cash so clever
and Meth push the button my hands all on the trigger
and they thought I rot in jail, like go figure,
if I laid down dead in the street you going too nigga,
and this is raw kicking out your door start to scream out loud
Carlton Fisk back for more.
[Chorus - Carlton Fisk:]
Carlton Fisk banana clip silver back gorilla Mr. Streetlife show you what that heat like
[Chorus - Hanz On:]
Hanz on yo we handle them Berettas PLO yo its forever, bout to show em what it be’s like
[Chorus - Method Man:]
Method man, turn a dollar to a million,
killa bees we in the building,
making sure the children eat right eat right.
[Chorus - Hanz On:]
In the building make sure the babies eat right.
[Verse 3 - Method Man:]
Now whoever read me wrong, can start by reading my palm,
make me catch a flashback of my father beating my mom.
Kiss the ring, (hashtag) ain’t easy being a don
so I gotta carry the heat, ain't easy being LeBron.
This is past rap, but I ain’t pass the baton,
tell them rappers bypass it or get to passing it on.
I won’t take it passed that, even if I pass it I’m gone.
Better yet, scratch that, ya’ll don’t get a pass then it’s on.
We Hanz On, everybody watchin the Don.
Got their eyes on the kid when they should be watchin their own.
Telling lies on the kid, they said he’s not in a zone.
Said he never reach the top, but that ain’t stop him from going.
They already on, so hungry his ribs are showin,
The money is getting low, the bum niggas is on
55 Bowen.
These hungry adolescents is grown.
When they get the Smith & Wesson they adolescence is gone.
[Chorus - Carlton Fisk:]
Carlton Fisk banana clip silver back gorilla Mr. Streetlife show you what that heat like
[Chorus - Hanz On:]
Hanz on yo we handle them Berettas PLO yo its forever, bout to show em what it be’s like
[Chorus - Method Man:]
Method man, turn a dollar to a million,
killa bees we in the building,
making sure the children eat right eat right.
In the building make sure the babies eat right.
[Chorus - Hanz On:]
In the building make sure the babies eat right.
********************************************
Rain All Day
(feat. Hanz On, Dro Pesci)
[Verse 1 – Method Man:]
Hey
I swear I never change
If I’m with you in the sunshine, I’m with when it rains
I’ll never switch, I’m still the same
Get caught up in the mix, I never snitch or give up game
I’m no squealer
Police be trying to pick the killers brain
Not familiar, that’s why some brothers go against the grain
I’m La Familia, I’m hands on but that don’t mean the name I’m tryna fill ya
My hands strong, i ain’t trying to take your chain, I’m trying to kill ya
Orangutan, you monkeys tryna hang like you’re gorillas
I give you Wu-Tang slash gilla
The object in the mirror, Mac Miller
My method is the illest slash illa
I’m trying to get the guap, cash scrilla
But whitey only see a crack dealer
Michael Jack thriller, this is not The Walking Dead
Rapper think he’s Chalky White, he get the white chalk instead
Meth Lab, killing everything that’s in the way
Until the son say.
The Meth lab dudes don’t play
[Verse 2 – Hanz On:]
Had these dude thinkin’ damn, when it rains, it pours
News flash, Meth back, whole Staten with him
Couldn’t come to terms, how they playing with this rap
Don’t be understanding all the substance that it lacks
Gorilla out the traps, bout to flip
Ten years gone probably saw him in the flicks
Red tails Belly, motherfucker, was the shit
Rap coalition, meth lab, get em lit
Yo it’s crazy how these nigga’s try and do it like we did it
Careful if you copy end up money on your fitted
Side line critics
Hate the bully with the Wesson’s
I swear to god in heaven, don’t get caught without your weapon
Caught without your weapons, it get ugly in a second
Sidearms hover like we bought ‘em from The Jetson’s
Meth lab, vocab, kill ‘em where they lay
Got ‘em sittin’ sayin’
The meth lab dudes don’t play
[Verse 3 – Dro Pesci:]
I’m used to the rain, I don’t see the sun too much
Nocturnal hustler grinding, holding them drugs too much
Bench press my pen, on my fresh pad
Just left the crack house, I’m headed to Meth’s lab. The tech jab.
Cowards in their face when they scheming I bet cash
Frown up on their face leave ‘em bleeding, who want’s what?
That’s my attitude all day, You snooze, you lose, that’s why I’m making moves all day
The tool gonna spray
I suggest you stay in your lane
Staten niggas ain’t playing, you get banged for your chain
I bang with a gang, a poppin mind bangin up thangs
Accurate aim, well-trained, angle and range
Dismantle your frame, microphones blown into the flames
Pesci the name, Professional, perfecting the game
I’m wrecking these lanes
Sharpshooter killing all day
Had these haters say
The meth lab dudes don’t play
********************************************
So Staten
(feat. Hanz On, Hue Hef)
[Verse 1 - Method Man:]
Yo, I’ve been Staten Island since ’85
My thing was rapping, ain’t get a package ’til ’89
That trick jacket, that bomber cracking that baby 9
That drug traffic, sell to your mama and maybe mine
I’m so Staten, no need to smack em, no need to shine
You and them divas is margaritas
You need the lime
Follow the leaders, Optimus Prime, follow the heater
This just in, I’m a little twisted, you non-believers
Richmond county, we get it lit
The tooly just a part of the movie, you get a clip
It ain’t all Gucci, Louis Vuitton, I’m Louis the fifth
That’s a V, if this was Sesame street, V is for Vic
I mean victim, stick him, ha ha ha stick him
Resisting, I’ll get ya the 16 I’m spittin’
My borough different cause we thorough, efficient
Donald Sterling on clipping, I’ll rock your world in addition
[Chorus – Hue Hef:]
I’m so Staten Island
You already know how we bang
I’m so Staten Island
Niggas don’t wanna fuck with my gang
Cause my niggas riding and your niggas hiding
Everybody talking, I’m stepping with the iron
That nigga faded, when I start firing
Everybody running, welcome to the island
I’m from SI
[Verse 2 - Hanz On:]
Walk light dead wrong when you cross that bridge
I got the park hill shooters, barracudas, you dig?
Bout 100 on ya fitted, Staten Island, we back
I said we back for this music and the mission is rap
Coalitions, yo they technicians, hammers is locked
Yo they loaded when they fire, you can hear it for blocks
Hands on nothing pretty, yo my city be New Yiddy
We are from crack sales, dumb travel with them semi’s
Got the coke cooking stashes in the ceiling
In fact, see if it’s wires on em so that all these killers relax
Don’t move, hypothetically you better not blink
Meth Lab, Staten Island, fuck with all of y’all day
[Chorus – Hue Hef:]
I’m so Staten Island
You already know how we bang
I’m so Staten Island
Niggas don’t wanna fuck with my gang
Cause my niggas riding and your niggas hiding
Everybody talking, I’m stepping with the iron
That nigga faded, when I start firing
Everybody running, welcome to the island
I’m from SI
[Verse 3 - Hue Hef:]
I wish you niggas tried to play the god
You gon’ fuck around and be my latest charge
Roll up and I smoke you just like an entourage
And you already know how I do it, I’m going twice as hard
I’m cooking up in that meth lab
Ready for distribution, it’s in the bag
My niggas different, we got hella swag
Trend setters made vendettas, ya hatin’ ass
I’m feeling like Meth in nine 2
His single bout to drop and I’m the livest in the crew
Hollywood from that 1-6-Ooh
And I’m going to the top with my dudes
Give a fuck if them niggas hatin', i’ll handle that situation
I’ll pick it up on my waist and i’ll blam at them niggas faces
Feeling like Tigger, end your career in that basement
Niggas moving fouler than a flagrant
[Chorus – Hue Hef:]
I’m so Staten Island
You already know how we bang
I’m so Staten Island
Niggas don’t wanna fuck with my gang
Cause my niggas riding and your niggas hiding
Everybody talking, I’m stepping with the iron
That nigga faded, when I start firing
Everybody running, welcome to the island
I’m from SI
