The What

I used to get feels on a bitch

Now I throw shields on the dick, to stop me from that HIV shit

And niggas know they soft like a Twinkie fillin'

Playin' the villain, prepare for this rap killin'

Biggie Smalls is the illest, your style is played out

Like Arnold on that, "What you talkin' bout, Willis?"

The thrill is gone, the Black Frank White

Is here to excite and throw dick to dykes

Bitches I like 'em brainless, guns I like 'em stainless steel

I want the fuckin' Fortune like the Wheel

I squeeze gats 'til my clips is empty

Don't tempt me, you don't want to fuck with the M-E (T-H-O-D Man)

Here I am

I'll be damned if this ain't some shit

Come to spread the butter lyrics over harmony 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, you's the number one contender

Lookin' cold-booty like your pussy in December

Nigga, stop bitchin', button up your 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

Your frontin' got me mad enough to touch somethin'

Yo, I'm from Shaolin Island and ain't afraid to bust somethin'

So what you want, nigga? You won't, nigga

I got a 6-shooter and a horse named Trigger

It's real, '94 rugged-raw

Kickin' down your goddamn door

And it goes a little somethin' like this

Fuck the world, don't ask me for shit (uh, yeah, yeah)

Everything you get you gotta work hard for it

(Honeys shake your hips) you don't stop

(And niggas pack the clips) keep on, bitch

Verse two, comin' with that Olde E brew

Meth-tical, puttin' niggas back in ICU

I'm lifted, troop, you can brin' your 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 niggas love it, not in the physical form but in the mental

I spark and they cells get warm

I'm not a gentleman, I'm a Method Man

Baby, accept it, utmost respect it, and

(Assume the position) stop, look and listen

I spit on your grave then I grab my Charles Dickens, bitch

Welcome to my center, honeys 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-ups 'cause hoes is irritatin' like the hiccups

Excuse me, flows just grow through me

Like trees to branches, cliffs to avalanches

It's the prayin' mantis, deep like the mind of Farrakhan

A motherfuckin' rap phenomenon, plus

I got more Glocks and TECs than you

I make it hot (niggas won't even stand next to you)

Nigga, touch me you better bust me three times in the head

Or motherfucker's dead, you thought so (yeah, yeah)

Fuck the world, don't ask me for shit

Everything you get you gotta work hard for it

(Honeys shake your hips) you don't stop

(And niggas pack the clips) keep on, bitch

Fuck the world, don't ask me for shit

Everything you get you gotta work hard for it

(Honeys shake your hips) you don't stop

(And niggas pack the clips) keep on, bitch

Junior M.A.F.I.A. clique in full effect (yeah, what the fuck you want, nigga?)

Biggie Smalls and Meth-tical

Bedford Stuyvesant the livest one ('94, comin' at you raw)

My borough is thorough, recognize (Shaolin Island, yeah)

Uh, yeah