Method Man - 16th Chamber lyrics

[Intro: Method Man] 16th Chamber, temple number five [Method Man] Somebody said it's on, if it is then I'll be set To blow a n***a up, with my Five Fingers of d**h I bring it to his whole damn fam, understand If he frontin, on any man down with the Clan I be comin, for that headpiece you can't cope For my brother, I even k** a Pope, word to mother Serial, k**a, style from the Isle of Stat My peoples are you with me where you at? sh**'s gettin deep in here, I mean like thick n***as lookin all in my face like they want dick It's about to hit the fan, hit the flo' That's all I can stands, and I can't stands no mo' What is it? n***as think they bigga Because they got the finga on the trigga of a biscuit They don't know I'm wicked, when I start to kick it With the raw sound, wash it down with a Mystic Better yet a Snapple, n***a want the juice But he don't want the ha**le Thought they trying to overthrow the castle Better yet the temple, I'm comin to your town Black down, the rental, car, the pistol YAH! If you don't want a burn from Glock Then beware, I buck shots, meaning what, the buck stops Here, no more dough will be made Unless it's being made by who... the 1-6-Ooh [Interlude: Raekwon] + (Method Man) Chamber four (1-6-Ooh) Chamber four Temple number nine, temple number nine [Ol' Dirty ba*tard] I'm the original G-O-D Making young ladies scream is my specialty When I go ooh-wah, ooh-wah, ooh-wah, girls wanna get hype From the funky fresh music that was stereotyped When I k**, that ol' mad rugged flow Not sayin Ason, is like a duck of disco Or a disco duck, I'm strictly hip hop Yo, Ason, what's up? I can't stop... Wu-Tanging, flipping the script and You could test my sk**s, but n***as must be trippin Coked up from sniffin, you're the one who's riffin I'm not Opie, save that old sh** for Andy Griffith You start to flip, now ya slip, cuz you're slippin While you sleep I be the God on point, like Scottie Pippen As I, jump on stage, cold flip a rip a show Strip or rip a ho, ready like Bo Jackson while I'm still taxin, I'm maxin Relaxin, sittin backs and, laying tracks and Again and again when I rock this jam I wanna see 'em up in the air, throw up your hand Introducin, the one-man band A child that's wild, now with the style, couldn't stand n***as wanna jump, then stepped, to the center Of the rhyme inventor, MC tormentor You get jacked and slapped, across the MC map I laugh at ya a**, on a horse shack Come on through I black and blue your whole crew Then I get rudie with the Hong Kong Phooey The Ol' Dirty ba*tard, MC k**er Money maker, Brooklyn, Shaolin style That I lay down like tile Gotta hit you up, one blaow, so you better come down...