[Intro: Method Man]
Rockness, what up?
Ron Browz, what up?
Staten Island, what up?
Hanz, what up?
Apple, what up?
Time to go in, hah
Ch'yeah
[Verse 1: Method Man]
Feel the tension when I walk into a room
Watch your step and watch your tone, boy, you talkin' a goon
Been a problem since them old heads was snortin' off the spoon
Half you rappers gettin' short bread, we often loaner domes
Put a ratchet on your forehead, I'm talkin' to baboons
I remain a Major Payne if you ain't part of my platoon
I'm a warhead, you know, big explosion with the 'shroom
It's the sandman, they hopin' I dont show up with the broom
That's a sweeper
They knockin' at your door, that's the reaper
With lead arms all around your head, that's a Sleeper
Rappers paranoid, that's the reefer
I mean if she a bad broad and let you raw dog, that's a keeper
My sisters, they don't rock with my dad, my moms either
Now I'm here with Roc, I'ma dad with mom's features
Ironic, I never make a threat that I couldn't promise
Be honest, I'm dope and I ain't never spoke Ebonics
[Chorus: Roc]
The players might change but the game don't stop
Tryna move some 'caine, get it Range or a drop
Forbes sayin' I made it
But tell 'em I'm hood famous
The players might change but the game don't stop
Tryna move some 'caine, get it Range or a drop
One more blunt 'cause I'm faded
Just for the niggas that hate it
[Verse 2: Kash Verrazano]
Ten-ten wins, hindsight's 20/20
Thirty-thirty up in forty-forty, light somethin' ugly
It's a fifty-fifty chance niggas gon' die over nothin'
Get hit, sit calm, nigga, try somethin' funny
Road Warrior, [?] almost got locked up abroad
Heard you snitchin' on bitches, dude, you locked up a broad
Maybe Jamaican fakin' but you would not, no reward
Class by myself but I am not no schoolboy
I'm not a momma's boy but I am my momma's boy
For her, I would gladly go nuts, that's my Almond Joy
I ain't no Boy Scout but your boy scout your boy like a scout and report
Put one in your boy's scalp
Meth'll manhandle your man and you
I ain't even gon' let him do that, bo-blap, blam dude
Don't get your hands dirty, son
Son gon' do his whole fam dirty
Word to P and Dirty
[Chorus: Roc]
The players might change but the game don't stop
Tryna move some 'caine, get it Range or a drop
Forbes sayin' I made it
But tell 'em I'm hood famous
The players might change but the game don't stop
Tryna move some 'caine, get it Range or a drop
One more blunt 'cause I'm faded
Just for the niggas that hate it