The Show - Method Man

«Wanna see the world, ain’t scared to do it

Even if, your shocked by it

Me and you, lost when you do it

By myself, better off bein' you»

Smoke cess nigga, smokin' that A. K

Northern lights, yeah.

stick 'em!

Uh, ahhh, baby, you know it like a poet, baby doll

Yeah, yeah, crooked letter in, uh uh, S.I., better

Known as the crooked letter I

Come on!

Self Service

Y’all know me since '93, now let that weed burn

Back in this bitch, class dismissed, it’s the return

Of the super sperm, game over, lose a turn

Takes a germ to kill a germ, when will y’all killas learn

Your only as good as your last hit

Soon as you put them automatics on safety that’s it

I calm them bastards, I call them ratchets

Till you blasted, till y’all come ashes to ashes

We make classic, huh, bring you a rougher sound

You either up or down, don’t get that ass kicked

Ya’ll niggas fuck around, y’all only tough around

The crowds, scared to bust a round, don’t get that ass kicked

What part of the game is this?

I came to break bread, evidently y’all killas came to bitch, nigga

So, whose the whipped nigga, don’t even trip, nigga

Some say they pull trigga, I think they bullshitter

I just begun to fight, if mommy like daddy talk

Then daddy might get him some tonight

Give me, my limelight, give me, my five mics

Give me, some weed and a light to get my mind right

Is he, the illest M.C., to ever play the tough city

To find out it’ll cost you bout a buck fifty

Across your face swiftly, my after taste shitty

Whose built by New Yitty, whose milked like two titties

And I ain’t even got to say my name

I got this duck wit her legs up like, «say my name, trick»

You think it’s all a game, like pussy all the same

I’m speakin' toilet slang, not seakin' hall of fame

It’s raw, sushi, stain in your drawers, dooky

Quarter a Lucy, quarter more for a groupie

That like to pop snoopy, think she gon' pop coochie

Just cuz you got Gucci, don’t mean you not hoochie

Girl, I tell it like a T-I-N

Ain’t no other kids eatin' till I feed my kids

Trick, oh, you ain’t crushin', sister, I can’t do nothin' wit you

My money’s celebate, honey, and we ain’t fuckin' wit you

I do it for the nookie, some say I’m too pushy

Only thing better than pussy, that’s some new pussy

There that go, looky, it’s gettin' ugly even

With niggas so broke, they couldn’t spend a lovely even

Yeah, that’s it

Yeah, Method Man has just left the muthafuckin' building