[Intro: Redman] Hahahahahaaa follow... just do what ya feel and I'ma follow I'ma follow... Just do what ya feel and we gon' follow Just do what ya feel and I'ma follow Just do what ya feel and I'ma follow Haha, Meth-Tical
[Method Man] Who wanna flip with the acrobatic From ground zero all the way to attic, what we be smokin, Tical The resevoir is now open I swim the English Channel backstrokin, you don't know me or my style We hold court and blow trial You catch 'cal when you browse through my X-Files, who be next now Man's down, hands down Hold ground by yo' side when it go down, I dedicate this next dart to my fucking heart Little Meth he the best part, now walk with that one, word Time Time 4 Sum Aksion Dreamin bout Toni Braxton, blowin her back out like Bob Backlund I'm throwin wrestlin holds Tag team with Funk Doc, we in funk mode, take yo' best shot If it don't hip it don't hop If it don't quit it don't stop, that's the life
[Redman] I be the super-lyrical individual I be splittin through that Teflon material to knock Big Ben off of schedule Better move with a set of tools I be doin it to mics when I'm a, heterosexual I load the mic then cock, drop it like three-quarters when I slaughter don't get, caught in the water Cause the Brick's got it's own World Order Leave your bitch in shock like the third rail caught her Styles stay deeper than orca, I float the seven seas with ease Did more drugs than pharmacies So call me that lyrical Genovese, you can't compare Get you steppin like stairs, frats, sororities Don't make me bring it on back I fuck up the majority of niggaz lookin hard at me, I Port 'em like Authority And when my nigga Meth shine out the inner How High mobile rollin three dimes at a time (Redman and Method Man still... hiiiigh hiiiiiiiiigh) It's that Jersey representer Get hit from the bottom to your head when you enter
[Method] Word...
[Redman] Just do what ya feel and I'ma follow (repeat 3X) Funk Doc break it down
[Redman] Hah.. yo, suck my dick out of animosity The velocity will fly that head and freeze yo' camps like pottery To give lobotomies to all you rap colonies And shunt your million dollar investment, to economy Impossibly might be the one in black leather Name tag sayin Caution when wet by the track wetter The hash spreader, I love the grimy shit Even my girl did grimy shit to me and I went back with her Three years for carrying a loaded handgun But it's forever when a nigga [chik-chik BLAAAOW] and he lands one to your cranium That red dot on your forehead it's not cause you Arabian (Yo watch you say to him!) You caught up in a tight situation I should start erasin your whole organization for makin wack tunes while my whole platoon rock the basement You couldn't come close if I gave you my bookin agent or producer, royalty points twelve shot loaded Luger Even a crowd to get you souped up - you're still wack I peel caps, on the regular Destroy MC's et cetera, creep like The Predator Fuck you, your label moms and yo' editor Give you two to the jugular, blood be spreadin all on my shirt, the king of the flirt shittin Bitches hit me off more than New Edition (Tweet-tweet-tweet-tweet, tweet-tweet-tweet-tweet) I make them pigs heart skip a beat from the steel physique So Iron Lung (one me gun done) Get on the mic and break em off with sumthin sumthin
[Method Man] We moonshine and grow crops Purchasin the handhelds with the sho' shots, it got me spittin these slugs at my competition, in rap sessions U-A-P ain't got no weapon, you lip professin Next in, line, parental discretion advised these explicit, street linguistics Better than yo' momma biscuits, we bomb shellin I might know