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Correct The What Lyrics
Lyrics
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Artists: M
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Method Man
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Correct The What
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Lyrics:
[Verse One: Notorious, Meth] I used to get feels on a bitch Now I throw shields on the dick To stop me from that hiv shit And niggaz know thet like a Twinkie filling Playin the villian Prepare for this rap killin Biggie Smallz is the illest Your style is played out, like Arnold wondered "What you talkin bout Willis?" The thrill is gone, the black Frank White Is here to excite and Throw dick toykes Bitches I like em brainless Guns I like em stainless steel I wan the fuckin Fortune like the Wheel I squeeze gats till my clips is empty Don't tempt me (T-H-O-D Man) You don't want to fuck with Biggie Here I am, I'll be damned if this ain't hit Come to spread butter deliverage over hominy grit It's the low killer death trap, yes I'm a jet black ninja Comin where you rest at, surrender Step inside the ring, youse the number one contender Lookin cold booty like your pussy in December Nigga stobitchin, button up ya lip and From Method all you gettin is a can of ass-whippin Hey, I'll be kickin, you son, you doin all the yappin Actin as if it can't happen You front and got me mad enough to touch somethin Yo I'm from Shaolin, Island, and ain't afraid to bust somethin So what cha want nigga, ya punk nigga I got a six-shooter and a horse named Trigger It's real, ninety-four, rugged raw Kickin down your god damn door (and it goes a lil somethin like this) [Chorus:] Fuck the world, don't ask me for shit And everything you get ya gotta work hard fot it Honies shake your hips, ya don't stop And niggaz pack the clips, keep on [Verse Two: Meth, Notorious] Verse two, comin with that Olde E brew Meth-tical, puttin niggaz back in I. C. You. I'm lifted troop, you can bring yours wack ass crew I got connections, I'll get that ass stuck like glue, huh No question, I be comin down and shit Yo I gets rugged as a motherfuckin carpet get And niggaz love it, not in the physical form but in the mental I spark and they cells get warm I'm not a gentle, man, I'm a Method, Man! Baby accept it, utmost respect it (Assume the position) Stop look and listen I spit on your grave then I grab my Charles Dickens Welcome to my center Honies feel it deep in they placenta Cold as the pole in the winter Far from the inventor, but I got this rap shit sewed And when my Mac unloads I'm guaranteed another video Ready to die, why I act that way? Pop Duke left Mom Duke The faggot took the back way So instead of makin hoes suck my dick up I used to do stick-up Cause hoes is irritatin like the hic-Cups Excuse me, flows just grow through me Like trees to branches Cliffs to avalanches It's the praying mantis Deep like the mind of Farrakhan A motherfuckin rap phenomenon, plus (I got more glocks and techs than you) I make it hot (nigga won't even stand next to you) Nigga touch me you better bust me Tree times in the head Or motherfucker's dead, ya thought so [Chorus: repeat 2X]
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