|Intro: Treach (Method Man)|
And y'all thought it was over
(Nah nah it ain't over 'til the fat b**h sings my n***a)
We ready to Rock & Roll God damn it?
(f** Yeah)
Dirty Jers'/New Jerusaluem
(Shaolin)
Naughty by Nature motherf**ers
(Wu-Tang my n***as)
Grab your hat b**h
(C'mon!)
|Hook: Method Man|
Dum-dum-dum there they go (x4)
|Treach|
Gettin the realism, statin' the great prism
Journalism, the Moses writin', graffitti on the state prison
Hard to steal, last year, slash a pop hit
Hate related, he's the closest that I lost since Pac (2Pac)
Got the Glock blown, ready to Rock & Roll
Give me a shot that go up the most
Cop the blow, nock us no
Finger f** the fair place, that's in the stairway
Gut a motherf**er, gotta die to get airplay
If I can't spray the airwaves, like a great AK
You stay where you lay babe, "f** you" is what I dare say
Hatin' n***as cuz it ain't pa**ion for rappin' or axin'
So sell extortion and jackin', what's happenin'?
What's that? The clappin', they'rekidnappin' Sergeants and Captains
I'll be mackin' and actin' like a n***a scratchin' for super pa**ion
(Blap! Blap! Blap! Blap! Blap! C'mon!)
|Chorus: Treach (Method Man)|
Rotten and dazed cuz I may not be here tomorrow (eye-ee-eye, eye-ee-eye)
World feel the sorrow, click clack, blah blah blah bloaw yo
Bullets in, barrels off, urban apparel
Like I told you before, click clack, blah blah blah bloaw yo
Ready to Rock & Roll (bum bum bum bum bum) {Ready to Rock & Roll}
Ready to Rock & Roll (bum bum bum bum bum) {Ready to Rock & Roll}
Ready to Rock & Roll (bum bum bum bum bum) {Ready to Rock & Roll}
|Method Man|
M.C.'s have the right to remain silent
Everything you say can and will be held against y'all punk muh'f**ers
And Mef can only trust ya as far as I can see ya
Me need ya? That'll be the.. day, ya bustas
Son suffer, the consequences, for askin'
Competition get an a** kickin' so tremendous
I throw my draws in it
Who representin' for The Projects tennants since Day One?
sh** is gettin' deep out here, run your garments son
Like n***as when the police department come
Yes y'all, Mef y'all, stank a** an' all
I'm too off the hook it don't make no sense to call
1-900-Eat-sh**, I get get my cobra co*k
Might d**h blow, close your eye
Chorus
|Redman|
Ready to Rock & Roll, I lock your load
I blow the block some mo'
Undercover like sellin' cops some blow
Bring a pain k**er, my name ring a bell
Orangutang, I throw it up like gang members
Crunk as f**, walkin' in with the pump tucked
Punks get it n***a, we even jump s*uts
How 'bout a dump truck sellin' 2 for 5
I ride with tools I made out of school supplies
I show you it's not serious for y'all
Trouble, I got a phone on my wrist to call (bubble)
You n***as know when you pissed 'em off
I turn gorilla with football equipment on
Cla-cloaw-cla-cloaw, I'm 'bout to tap ya foul
Danger, when the last Rotten Rascal out
Hang up, phone calls ain't gon' happen now
An' I'm straight facin', you n***as can't ask around
Chorus x2