Method Man

I said shout out to the west side

But I’m from the east side (Okay)

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

Oh boy, dig it, I talk about it and I live it

Been there, did it, shitted and wiped my ass with it

These critics saw the train for brains and must of missed it

If they ain’t got the shit, they’ll never get it (never get it)

I came to bring the pain hardcore from the brain

Let’s go inside my astral plane

I’m from the underground, my sound lift
Platform shoes to bitches, 400 pounds

Rock-a-bye baby from the rooftop

When the guns blow, your cradle gets rocked

When the Earth quakes and the sky starts to fall

Down will come MCs, fake shit and all

“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!”