Method Man - Who Ya Rollin' Wit lyrics

[Intro: Method Man] Uh... what's really good? Yo, yo, yo... [Method Man] It's the unstoppable, overcome any obstacle Y'all know my flavor, pack more punch than Tropical Any mission possible, do what I gots to do Labels gettin' bu*terfingers, and next they droppin' you You think you know, but you have no idea The Diary of a Meth Man, what's this I hear? Somebody told y'all, steppin' in sh** was good luck? I got the hood stuck, chh-chh, now give the goods up Y'all done pushed up, past the point of no return It's Meth's turn, so roll that sh** up and let's burn I heard Philly got the best 'scherm, out in Cali, they got the best perms Now that we know, when will the rest learn? Come on, each one, teach one, hear no evil, and I don't speak none Everything cool until that heat come Just call my name, and I'll be there Y'all kids is slum, like the j**elry in Albi Square [Chorus: Streetlife (Shawnna)] We drinkin' Henny 'til we flip, poppin' bottles 'til we sick All y'all haters eat a dick (yeah, uh) Let's throw a party in this b**h, all my n***az and my chicks Tell me who y'all rollin' with (yeah) [Hook 2X: Streetlife (Method Man)] Method spits fire (Fire!) The roof's on (Fire!) My crew's on (Fire!) [Streetlife] M-E-T, H-O-D.. [Method Man] Man, I'm in the house like foreclosures Talk sober, until some dog gets forced over New York soldiers, be at ease, fall back Never ever, I'm the New Era, like ball caps Kid, whenever, whoever, whatever, y'all want it Y'all can have it, the problem and answer, I'm all that While we at it, let's tighten up our grips around that cabbage Silly rabbit, how many kid's done tricked you on your carrots The product of a bad package, like Bishop Don Juan it's Magic How I break 'em like a bad habit, hit tracks like it's target practice Then let these darts take a stab at it n***az ain't got it, ain't never had it I jam like L.A. traffic, Jellyroll behind the wheel And the pa**enger seat behind the field It's your boy, physically fit, mentally sick Get dirty money, told you honey, I'm filthy rich [Chorus] [Hook 2X w/o "fire" the second time] [Interlude: Method Man] Yeah, y'all n***az don't know it's a game Until it starts again, let's do it, haha! [Method Man] Six minutes, Method Man, you're on If you thinkin' you gon' slip and be all right, you're wrong You can see me lightin' the bong, while writin' the songs That the crowd, is either singin' to or fightin' along, fightin' along I'm try'nna tell you d** is not your friends And girlfriend, don't try and front like you got your friend I'm at the hotel, motel, Holiday Inn And my chick's a man-eater, she be swallowin' men Aight, live from New York, it's Saturday night I got pipes that drain your confidence, and battery light Aight, mami tight, but she ain't really my type If y'all don't see me treat her right, then she ain't really my wife When I was young, I was stayin' in school, obeyin' rules Play with my food, what makes you think I'm playin' with you? This is it, y'all better come on in, the water's fine Jump on in, let's do it to 'em one more 'gain [Chorus] [Hook 2X] [Chorus] [Outro: Method Man] Yeah, Ladies Love Big John Studd No doubt, dick up in your mouth We do this sh** everyday, I'm in the cut With my main sh** stain, Ray-Ray Gutter bu*t And we holdin' it down for the whole Staten Island, man Nothin' else but Staten Island, man Y'all stand up, man, Stapleton, the Wild West, Park Hill Port Richmond, Now Born, Jungle Nilz, hah... Peace!