[Intro: Method Man (Redman)]
I wanna deal, with a bigger [bad word] The streets, [bad word] down hard
We got to get our [bad word] together
We always had music, eating off the game
Like you was never [bad word] dry, that ain't no business
(No other game [bad word] so disorganized
Look around you, every hood that's taking care of business
Is together, dig it, tight?)

[Method Man:]
I can't spend my [bad word] away
For what it's worth, how much dirt can I get done in a day?
I got, clip in the AK (a blunt in the tray)
I'm a beast (f**k the police) N.W.A.
Ya'll play this game that the huster's play
And if you dress in the metroual way, then muthaf**ka, you [bad word] Ya'll can save this drama for Kay Slay, like who's f**king my chick
Or writing books about sucking my [bad word] Now I don't give a f**k what they say, cause once I put on my cool
They see my life and wanna put on my shoes
Top of the world, ma, look at your dude
I dig a chick with an attitude, but I don't let her cook up my food
It's like these young niggas hugging the strip
Who got the power to move bricks and buildings never loving the [bad word] Stripping with game, ya'll can guzzle a sip, ain't nothing change
My niggas is off the chain, and we don't muzzle the pit, a-ha

"Can I get a suuuuuuuu? "
"Aiyo, this bounce right here for all my Wu-Tang muthaf**kas in the house, tonight"

[Redman:]
Soon as I, pick up my pen, I begin my flow
I close my eyes then write rhymes in a Blackout mode
My uzi, weigh over a ton, CD plays over
I do my crime with baking soda, with no odor
Pull out like boat motor streams, crack your shoulder wing
Def Squad decoder ring, psychopath bordering
My dogs [bad word] on your lawn, while you watering
Pay the fine, audit him and [bad word] on your lawn again
D.O.C. get it, C.O.D., my hood
P.O.P., [bad word]  N.J. deep, baby
Jersey state of mind, Method Man, lock 'em in
Ya'll niggas give a f**k, punk, we the opposite, yup
I hear you gossipping, cause we on
Just because I rock, don't mean I'm made of stone
My bones is sturdy, I wake up to get it early
When I bully the streets, my Co-is Keith Murray
In a hurry, back down, the boy roll with us
This how it sound when them boys is transmitted
Bricks to Staten Island, where babies turn into killers
That's why my Cadillac bare more arms than caterpillers, let's get it

"Can I get a suuuuuuuu? "
"Aiyo, this bounce right here for all my Wu-Tang muthaf**kas in the house, tonight"