Yo, c'mon! Even if I died a thousand deaths When I resurrect I'll still be Meth The jams will still be deaf I'm here, me and this mic-phone, we here And they tryin' to hear nothin' cuz we had it up to here Lyrics have no dress code From KRS to the best mode Hit them so cool you cats froze Had to jump off, it's about to jump off My niggaz speak with they hands or the gun talks Yo RZA, you got the Clan and they wonderin' if the police at the door, every exit is laced with C-4 about to blow White trial, I'm passed foul And these is like teachers in thongs they assed out But me, the M-E-T-H- the O-D Just the real, I can't be touched, they can't feel The monotony when you rap, get your finger off my nut sac Carbon copy that and send your crew the facts Motherfucker
1- New and improved Wu-Tang style Turn it up now, y'all done fucked up now Spit flames (Five mics) BK (On site) Bring the pain (All night) Off the chain (Damn right)
2- [Scratching by RZA] "Just the Method Man we sought, Mister Meth" "Tical, yep" "Hmmm"
Yo, yo, yo, yo, yo, yo, c'mon! Even if I died a thousand deaths When I resurrect, through my first born, my name lives on My verses is like a third degree to young emcees Buzzworthy on your MTV, the Killa Bees Y'all Jacob, straight up, break up, schemes and plots Ace up my sleeve, make up like pots and pots So this is what it's come to (Huh?) Makin' shots at them kids who use to punk you (Huh?) Repititious rap shit, don't get nowhere play ya mouth whip And niggaz can't smoke wit' dry lips so chapped Bite my shit, I'm like Kojack to get my flow back in fo' flat, I track you down like a low jack Spy 'ersus spy, eye for an I can analize the uncivilized Make them feel alive You know right from wrong, so know I'm the bomb It's okay to beast, see the tracks on my arm Motherfucker