Rza - M.E.F. lyrics

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Rza - M.E.F. lyrics

[Intro: Method Man] Yeah, pull your shoes up Why don't ya'll n***as sit your a** down somewhere Meth, yeah, yeah *burp* I said it, Staten Island back up in this b**h in a major way Yeah [Chorus: Method Man] Who next on deck? Yo, mark, ready, set You get one guess, Meth, pa** that dutchie pon de left Take a deep breath, Meth, take that genie to the chest It relieves stress, please believe it Who your M-E-F'ing Man, go 'head, ask your man And them broads with them big drawers, they know who I am Call me Meth, like my n***as in Park Hill Projects Just Meth, say it with the F, never disrespect [Method Man] Give me dap, or give me depth, Clan in effect While you shaking my right hand, I stab you with the left What the f** ya'll expect, I'm beyond bomb threat Explode when I'm talking, I blow sh** out proportion Who's next, now, to be made an example Timb boots stomping on them open toe sandals Every boots scuffed, another win for us Life's just f**ed up, momma just didn't hug me enough Let's you and I discuss over this bag of dust My plans to make bags, up in God we trust ya'll I ain't gotta, lift a, finger to touch ya'll And I ain't got a middle finger you to f** ya'll sh**, as far as I'm concerned, ya'll germs To the illest MC to ever get his turn Street, you know the Life, money feed only on these dice Don't wanna have to make my point twice [Chorus] [Method Man] Who cashing checks every first and fifteen? Who earnt they respect? Blunt brother from another mother Southpaw, might Golden Glove ya Now Enter the Wu-Tang Forever, The W Ya'll been eating off our plate for years And didn't know I spit in the pot I'm on the toilet with some new sh**, fitting to drop, lend me your years For a minute, get in it, "see murder", there ain't "no limit" to the k**ing Emotional wreck, cuz I ain't feeling what ya'll feeling Ya'll rappers is s** with penicillen, who the villain? Burning MC's, sick as the V's when he illing A hundred degrees in dungarees, still chilling You know me by now, look out Tical In your barn, at your Phat Farm, milking your cow Street, you know the life, money feed only on these dice Don't wanna have to make my point twice [Chorus]