Well All Rite Cha

Method ManMethod Man 

Follow 3 fans

Method Man

Clifford Smith (born April 1, 1971), better known by his stage name Method Man, is an American Grammy Award winning hip hop artist, record producer, actor and member of the hip hop collective Wu-Tang Clan. He took his stage name from the 1979 film The Fearless Young Boxer, also known as Method Man. He is one half of the rap duo Method Man & Redman. He won a Grammy Award for Best Rap Performance by a Duo or Group for "I'll Be There for You/You're All I Need to Get By" with Mary J. Blige. In 2007, the writers of About.com placed him on their list of the Top 50 MCs of Our Time (1987–2007). In 2012, The Source placed him on their list of the Top 50 Lyricists of All Time. He is also the only MC to be featured on Notorious B.I.G.'s debut album Ready to Die. more »

4:11

0 Views

 Become A Better Singer In Only 30 Days, With Easy Video Lessons!

Hydro indo (buddha!) 
Hah cocoa yo ya ya yo! 
I need some brown weed (lady) all day 
I need some brown weed (jenny) 
I need some cut (lady  lady) 

Now these doors don't open  til after dark 
And it ain't til twelve 'til the party really starts 
(Yo  me and my crew had to be in by ten 
Right before the fun was about to begin) 
Yo yo  one bitten  jabberjaws  tryin' to taste the 
Paper written, kids be bullshittin', I see they flaws 
Too many rebels, not enough cause for me to pause 
Them broads love my shitty drawers, the finest 
Criminal minded put my life behind it, you niggaz 
Find it hard to swallow poison in the bottle, she too sexy 
So I gotta watch you fast bitches, too many tricks 
That can give a dick a bad sickness 

Yo, yo! Yo son excuse me? 
(Yo) I'm tryin' to earn a million buck or two 
The ill MC step in (and who the f*ck are you?) 
Doc start walkin' bumpin' M.O.P. 
To catch a nigga gettin' gassed, puttin' ten on three 
(Da Ruckus!) With the mic I blast men on sight 
So off the hook Atlantic Bell had to go on strike 
Doc did it, metaphors come AMG kitted 
20/20 vision, comes tinted! From being so high
(So high) so high so high

Air it out 
Iron Lung I be the street soldier, ante up 
Pull them panties up, party's over, in the cut 
Slappin' grudges offa niggaz shoulder, bringin' ruck 
Like them Wild-cats at Villanova, hot as f*ck! 
Duke or sober, suave bowler, soul controller 
Of the universe, stole-a, colder than cola 
Caps grab your hoodie hat, Island of Stat' 
Keep them cats runnin for they gat, in stormy weather 

Gats, right hook, uppercut swollen how I left your eye 
Stage dived, made a mistake, kicked F.O.I. 
Aiyyo hoe! Doc be keepin' a dope show like Marilyn 
Manson the handgun be stashed in the paneling 
Jersey drop son, watch me whip it like midget 
Diggin in that whole plate and, piss on your picnic 
(Don't nobody move) Don't nobody start flinchin' 
Limo driver, roll up the fuckin' partition! 

Who them niggaz that be rollin them thai, high as a kite? 
Gettin' pussy all night (well all right cha) yeah yeah 
Well who them cats you can call on, when you want to brawl? 
(Get drunk as hell) and so on (well all right cha) yo yo 
Is Funk Doc up in the house? (well all right cha) yo yo 
Hot Nix up in the house? (well all right cha) 
Bricks to Stat' hold it down (well all right cha) yo yo 
Mad dick up in your mouth (hah, all night cha) 

Yo Tical's and Doc, did it before, I'll do it again 
Snatch spark to the ignition, I'm screwin' it in 
(Aiyyo we out!) Six drop in ten seconds, what? 
I'll be the first one on the floor at your, wedding reception 
B-Boys gather around and act p-noid 
Bring the Trouble T-Roy, to earlobes, keyloid 
(Terminator 2) Doc after Sarah Conn' 
For the barrel bonds (Am I on?) Tical, you're on 

Uhh-uhh-on, uhh-uhh-on 
Uh uh-uh uh-uh, uh-uh-on 

Got these slim pickins on my Charles Dickens, I pack a mac 
To make your back stiffen, flip the script I act different 
The eyeball, keep your distance, warning y'all you don't listen 
Bitchin' over shit you ain't gettin' 
So finally, puttin' in work, the big hurt 
MC, with a social disease, and get it first 
Enemies, feel my energies, four centuries of anger 
Remember me? (The field nigga!) 
Too Ghetto Fabulous, RZA Sharp, and hazardous 
Figure, with bad habit, can't hold his liquor 
Speed like a millipede (Hot Nix-on) 
Contemplate the non-fiction on loose leaves 
Paragraphs, hundred degrees, my pen bleed (ha!) 
Howin' you the pain I feel from holdin' these 
Black thoughts, deep rooted, nowadays 
They come with batteries included, in wicked ways 

Who them niggaz that be rollin' them thai, high as a kite? 
Gettin' pussy all night (well all right cha) yeah yeah 
Well who them cats you can call on, when you want to brawl? 
(Get drunk as hell) and so on (well all right cha) yo yo 
Is Funk Diggy in the house? (well all right cha) yo yo 
Meth Diggy no doubt! (well all right cha) 
Bricks to Stat' hold it down (well all right cha) yo yo 
Mad dick up in your mouth (all night cha) 

Cha, cha, cha, cha, cha, cha, cha, cha

 Watch: New Singing Lesson Videos Can Make Anyone A Great Singer