[Intro: Method Man]
 Yeah, pull your shoes up
 Why don't ya'll niggas sit your [bad word] down somewhere
 Meth, yeah, yeah [burp]
 I said it, Staten Island back up in this [bad word] in a major way
 Yeah

 [bad word]  Method Man]
 Who next on deck? Yo, mark, ready, set
 You get one guess, Meth, pass 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 niggas 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 [bad word] ya'll expect, I'm beyond bomb threat
 Explode when I'm talking, I blow [bad word] 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 [bad word] 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 [bad word] ya'll
 I ain't gotta, lift a, finger to touch ya'll
 And I ain't got a middle finger you to [bad word] ya'll
 [bad word]  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

 [bad word] 

 [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 [bad word]  [bad word] to drop, lend me your years
 For a minute, get in it, "see murder", there ain't "no limit" to the killing
 Emotional wreck, cause I ain't feeling what ya'll feeling
 Ya'll rappers is  with penicillen, who the villain?
 Burning MC's, sick as the V's when he illing
 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

 [bad word]