[Intro: Missy Elliott (Method Man)]
Yeah!
This-this-this-this
This is an exclusive (letīs go)
Mr. Meth, youīre so Def, you put them other M.C.īs out to rest (thatīs right)
And they test (uh-huh), but they forget (yeah) how the M-E-F is so Def (letīs go)
[Method Man]
Yo, uh, come on, come on, now
Big Meth attack soon as the track come on now
Zone out, with Sean Combs and bizzy-bone out (I see you in the club)
And by one, Iīm gettinī thrown out
Mami, got her toes out, ainīt one army can Blaze Johnny
Like Gwen Stafani, you know thereīs No Doubt
Iīm trill, sick with it, itīs like ill
Thatīs the only way to explain these mic skills
On Homicide Hill, anybody asks is real
The more steel, the more bodybags to fill
Can I get, hit of that hydro, nigga
I tried to quit puffinī before, but Iīm no quitter
If honey show me her buns, Iīll show her my ones
If the bed rockinī, keep knockinī and Iīmma cum
Want some, take some, I get it crunk
Speak junk, Iīll slow up your road with speed bumps
[Chorus: Missy Elliott w/ P. Diddy doing ad-libs]
When they play this in the club (say what?)
Go and tell that nigga, bump that (say what?)
Throw your hands up, like nigga, what? (say what?)
Yaīll donīt really really want that (say what?)
And for whatever muthafucka, donīt like it (say what?)
Tell that sucka he can get back (say what?)
Misdemeanor and Meth in your area (say what?)
Are yaīll ready? Come on, play it back (saw what?)
[Method Man]
You wanna front, what? Step up and get bucked
And if your feelinī lucky, duck, then press yaīll luck
Yaīll got me effed up, over tracks overreact
Once I start, like a bullet, ainīt no holdinī me back
Iīm all that and two macīs, yaīll fakinī jacks
When I cock back like Busta Bust and make īem clap
Here I go again, who blow in like whirlwinds
Who kiss girlfriends, that kiss they girlfriends
Got to get it, and when Iīm gone
Yaīll bury me with chrome, and tell hell Iīm cominī home
Iīm poison, see my skull and crossbones
Got aim like them kids in Iraq who toss stones
And I got drugs in my system, we thugs in the system
That put slugs in victims, Mr. M-E to F, bomb threat
As long as I ainīt no game, thereīs no contest
[Chorus]
[Method Man]
Ticallion is phatter than your fattest chrome chain
I guess that should explain why I given the dope name
Ainīt nothinī free, everything got a fee
How the fuck you got a car and ainīt got a pot to pee?
Iīma grown man, so I do grown man things
Why take half, when I can have this whole damn thing?
Itīs Meth, baby, drop top, navy Mercedes
Iīm number one like P.E. or Tracy McGrady
Itīs all good, everything I spit, all hood
And if yaīll gave me one wish, niggaz, I wish yaīll would
Who John Blaze? Uh, when yaīll gonī learn huh
When I burn son, stick a fork in him heīs done
And ladies love to play, like Ladies Love Cool J
For the right CREAM, theīll do anything you say
She Ice Cream, Iīm caked up with icing
Mr. Sandman, come on, bring her a pipe dream
[Chorus]
[Outro: P. Diddy]
Letīs work... come on
Def Jam! Mr. Meth, Missy, Bad Boy
Hitmen baby, letīs work, come on
Letīs work, come on, yeah
Uh, letīs work... aiyo pass that nigga
Joe Hooker, I see you, letīs work, yeah