Авторы: Jason Hunter, Redman, Method Man, Hugh Brodie, Robert Diggs, Jr.
[Redman] RZA came and got me, this what I came to do, come on Ring the bell so it's time to eat Brick Dog stash weed inta AMI-seats Bomb isdide the palm Doc rock a wifebeater with me beatin my wife ass ironed on The front with my pump built like the Klumps To carry it I take the spare out the trunk I stay hungry, I ain't worked for days That's why you see the pump when the curtains raise Blast! Don't panic Do I gotta explain how I tame and lock the rapgame single-handed? Hell nah! I won't tell you son If I find a wack ID I sell you one Doc and Hot Nick, Inspectah My lecture's like Hannibal Lector's Where's the ketchup? Don't speak on it, shut ya trap I see ya whole crew yellow like mustardpacks Ah woo, Doc in my own zone You say you got the rapgames sewn, but it's sewn wrong I ride through ya hood in a Mr. Softee truck Then pull a mac out a box of snow cones Yeah, ya little fucks Gimme ya fucking money! *Shout-outs from Raekwon and Ghostface* [Method Man] Uhuh, check it I'm hotter than a hundred degrees with my coat on Playing with a dynamitestick, where did I go wrong? Somebody pull the fire along when Jonny stomp If ya lukewarm leavin ya clothes and boots torn Pro's and con's, megabomb's and so-on's By arid actions try MC's to get their roll on First issue got issues What is hip-hop to Hot Nickles? It's like Funk Doc to snot tissues, word Look at my hand and get the third Finger out ya earhole like: Fuck what you hear Now that's what I call harcore, let's act fool Mr. Fix-It like Handyman I pack tool I been shitty, I'm from the veils of the city And just because my outfit match don't make me pretty Baggy Dun Gurees, dick need room to breathe In a room full of crackers I might cut the cheese Ain't no rules to the game, if it is we aint playin In your business like EPMD, "So What Cha Sayin'" You co-designin that bullshit yo man tryin Chaka chaka cha-ta tatat!! Slugs flyin *Shout-outs from Raekwon, Ghostface and Inspectah Deck* [Inspectah Deck] Yo, ya Check, the code echos from magazines to the big screen Fo' wheel machines like ya wits scream Kids fiend from the urban to sub-urban Roll upon me thirstin like: Hey, hey, Mister Dream-Merchant We roll longer than dice in a casino Cee-lo in the 4, 5 or 6 with double 0 Behind the tinted windows I lay low On some hydro tryin to slide from the 5-0 But now I get wild similar to Ol' Dirty On third time fellon just hit with over 30 No worries, style have em so thirsty First degree heats are quittin on me Cold turkey, no mercy I bring the pain of a hundred migraines But a thousand shoutin my name that's why I came But first bring the cashburst, then the outburst My surround sound pound ya ear like Jevon Kearse I flex muscle outside I find a next hustle Trouble with ya here and face the TEC-muscle Even the best buckle win I take it to the exteme It gets ugly, but it's what a nigga do to get cream This life *Shout-outs from Raekwon and Ghostface*