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Method Man - I Get My Thang in Action lyrics
[Verse 1] Niggas wanna test my stees, Nigga please, I black that eye like peas You better freeze In ya tracks A Wu-Tang (bzzz) killer bee's on ya back I comes for the honey plus the phat money sack You want it all? Yeah I want it all like THAT I stab my own moms in the back for a stack Niggas like damn, why you want it like that? 'Cause I'm a dog, and I got no love for the cat Attitude's cold like the north polar cap Where I do my (??) a little further down the map A little black island Called Stat Where niggas carry gats in they Black Moon hat Now I'm mad known for the bones and the rap And youse an unknown with a phoney contract Wake up and smell the method, motherfucker Contact, fallin' in a cypher from a fallen head crack An indian giver and I'm out to take it back Shaolin Island, baby where you at? A runaway train that be runnin' on ya track That's how it's goin' down Yeah, it's goin' down like that [Chorus] I gets my thang in action To live, to love, to see, to learn [Break] Yo! Tell 'em what's happenin'! (What's happening? I'll tell ya wh-what's happening Tell 'em what's happening Brothers ain't got no peers and they be smokin' funny Shaddup!) [Verse 2] I swing funky rap routines and tap the jaws Betcha twenty points and ya still can't score Nuttin' 'Cause you ain't got no points in this game Kid, you frontin' A home run hitter and you be buntin' Brush out the toilet, I got my shit together When I'm good, I'm good, When bad, I'm better You want it? Whatever I be the stormy weather Rain coming down To weather with ya leather JACKET A nigga with a ax Couldn't HACK IT I spark 'em like a match (ssskt) Coming back it's the method To get louder The method Man, clap yo hands, now check it See me in the mist (??) But my physical brother came through and got me lift Niggas, that I walk by, give me the eye The mormon is fuckin' me up, killing my high Nigga get back, Ya pussy cat, I'm fearsome Basically dat, I'm all of dat, And 'den some While I, Was out on tour, Goin' beserk I heard you Was over at the sand box And kickin' DIRT All over my name But you can't pull my file, YOU DON'T KNOW ME, AND YOU DON'T KNOW MY STYLE Comin' out 'dere like dat 'dere YEAH, (??) ghettos couldn't bear [Outro] (Meth-Tical, I told the boy everythin' he KNOW To all you bad motherfuckers See, I told you that kid go back to that Dolemite Everybody needs to love Dolemite, I love Dolemite, you love Dolemite Hey, how you doin' nigga, I know you Know what I did when I did? Meth-Tical, shiiit, I told the boy--) If ya can't get yaself a ten, The least you can do is smoke five twos (Where ya at? Method) |
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