Method Man - Biscuit lyrics

Yo mama don't wear no drawers! I saw her when she took them off! Standin' on the welfare line Eating swine tryin' to look fine, with her stank behind You can ask the b**h and she'll tell ya fast Meth-Tical got style with his nasty a** Are you ready, to face the consenquences and suffer? I even tell ya momma you ain't sh**, motherf**er Bring it, and let that k**er bee kid sting it And rep-resent, it's like heads up a brick, when I swing it Get lost, I break you off something I'm pumpin', like a Reebok, with a pump, from the jump and You was nothin' Bet ya thought ya f**in' clan had ya back but they was frontin' Smokin' dirt blunts and f**in' nasty stunts and Ya take the naked gun without the bullet, what ya bustin' Get ya ship sunken, f**in' with a drunken Master disaster at any rap functions Who said the Wu-Tang Clan? Was it you or your man? You wanna point the finger, I'll bring ya 36 chambers, be out, youze in danger Let me pull ya brain outcha a** with a hanger Didn't momma not tell ya not to talk to a stranger Now ya got ya neck, in the noose, of the strangler Just recline, keep the Meth in mind I'll even test the knuckle check on the hands of time What? And I'll be more than glad to bust that a** All up and down the block, the street, that ave Whatever, smokin' on a Spike Lee joint Hey I'm Mo' Better, I'm hopin' n***as get the point Cause they could never, stop the veteran, word to God When I'm severin' the HEAD of a mental vegetarian The Method, at the weekend, with a whole lot of credit The cuties I desire, I be the first to set it Off, flame on like the Human Torch Fantastic Four for all the fans in the store You can eat it all and it'll tell ya fast Meth-Tical got STYLE for ya nasty a**