I smoke on the mic like smokin' Joe Frazier The hell-raiser, raising hell with the flavor Terrorize the jam like troops in Pakistan Swinging through your town like your neighborhood Spiderman So uhh, tick tock keep ticking While I get you flipping off the shit I'm kicking The Lone Ranger, code red: danger! Deep in the dark with the art to rip the charts apart The vandal, too hot to handle You battle, you're saying Goodbye like Tevin Campbell Roughneck, Inspectah Deck's on the set The rebel, I make more noise than heavy metal
The way I make the crowd go wild Sit back, relax won't smile Rae got it going on pal, call me the rap assassinator Rhymes rugged and built like Schwarzenegger And I'mma get mad deep like a threat, blow up your project Then take all your assets Cause I came to shake the frame in half With the thoughts that bomb shit like math So if you wanna try to flip, go flip on the next man Cause I grab the clip, and Hit you with 16 shots and more, I got Going to war with the melting pot, hot
It's the Method Man, for short "Mr. Meth" Moving on your left And set it off, get it off, let it off like a Gat I wanna break, fool, cock me back Small change, they putting shame in the game I take aim and blow that nigga out the frame And like Fame, my style will live forever Niggas crossing over, but they don't know no better But I do, true, can I get a "soo" Enough respect due to the one-six-ooh I mean ohh, yo check out the flow Like the Hudson, or PCP when I'm dustin' Niggas off, because I'm hot like sauce The smoke from the lyrical blunt makes me eughck
Ooh, what, grab my nut, get screwed Oww, here comes my Shaolin style True B-A-ba-B-Y-U To my crew with the "soo!"
First things first, man, you're fucking with the worst I'll be sticking pins in your head like a fucking curse I'll attack any nigga who slack in his mack Come fully packed with a fat rugged stack Shame on you when you stepped through to The Ol' Dirty Bastard straight from the Brooklyn Zu And I'll be damned if I let any man Come to my center, you enter the winter Straight up and down, that shit packed: jam You can't slam, don't let me get fool on him, man The Ol' Dirty Bastard is dirty and stinking Ason Unique rolling with the night of the creeps Niggas be rolling with a stash Ain't saying cash, bite my style I'll bite your motherfucking ass!
For crying out loud, my style is wild, so book me Not long is how long that this rhyme took me Ejecting styles from my lethal weapon My pen that rocks from here to Oregon Here's more again, catch it like a psycho flashback I love Gats, if rap was a gun, you wouldn't bust back I come with shit that's all types of shapes and sounds And where I lounge is my stomping grounds I give a order to my peeps across the water To go and snatch up props all around the border And get far like a shooting star Cause who I are is livin' the life of Pablo Escobar Point-blank as I kick the square biz There it is, you're fucking with pros and there it goes
Yo chill with the feedback, black, we don't need that It's 10 o'clock, ho, where the fuck's your seed at? Feeling mad hostile, ran the apostle Flowing like Christ when I speaks the gospel Stroll with the holy roll then attack the globe with the buck us style The ruckus, 10 times 10 men committing mad sin Turn the other cheek and I'll break your fucking chin Slaying boom-bangs like African drums Coming around the mountain when I come Crazy flamboyant for the rap enjoyment My clan increase like black unemployment Yeah, another one down, G-g-genius Take us the fuck outta here
The Wu is too slammin' for these Cold Killin' labels Some ain't had hits since I seen Aunt Mabel Be doing artists in like Cain did Abel Now they money's getting stuck to the gum under the table That's what you get when you misuse what I invent Your empire falls and you lose every cent For trying to blow up a scrub Now that thought was just as bright as a 20-watt light bulb Should've pumped it when I rocked it Niggas so stingy they got short arms and deep pockets This goes on in some companies With majors, they're scared to death to pump these First of all, who's your A&R? A mountain climber who plays an electric guitar? But he don't know the meaning of "dope" When he's looking for a "suit-and-tie rap" That's cleaner than a bar of soap And I'm the dirtiest thing in sight Matter of fact, bring out the girls and let's have a mud fight
You best protect ya neck! You best protect ya neck! You best protect ya neck! You best protect ya neck!