Blackout

Lyrics

[Intro: Redman] Yo, yo, yo, yo All my people! Yo, yo, yo, yo Yo, yo, yo, yo Yo, yo, yo, yo Yo, yo, yo, yo! [Verse 1: Redman] It's Funk Doc, where the weed at, bitch? I speed backwards down a one-way from cops, see that shit? Believe that shit, slaughter straight to camcorder I'm Too Hot for TV, rap draw water My windpipe's attached to project boilers You yell, "Turn the heat down!" My voice DVD surround sound so I'm heard 'round town The chances are y'all leaving 'round now Wait later, we'll make front page paper Date raper with juvenile eighth graders Hit the high school and 187 Caesar When I bust, y'all need to back four acres Doc, y'all – and that's my man, Jabberjaw The shitlist ready, who next to scratch off? I'm from the underground My sound lift platform shoes to bitches, 400 pounds [Chorus: Method Man & Redman] Get up, stand up, back up, push up (Come on) Jump up, act up – to make y'all feel it Br-r-r-r-r stick 'em, ha-ha-ha, stick 'em Br-r-r-r-r stick 'em, ha-ha-ha, stick 'em Yo, blackout, shoot-out, smoked out, move out (Come on) Even knock your tooth out – to make y'all feel it Br-r-r-r-r stick 'em, ha-ha-ha, stick 'em Br-r-r-r-r stick 'em, ha-ha-ha, stick 'em [Verse 2: Method Man] And I'm the street-talking, dog-walking Approach me with extreme caution Oh, now you forcing my hand to rock your cradle often I'm hot, scorching, but Stone Cold like Steve Austin If you smell what Tical cookin' Ain't tryna see Central Bookin', so tell ya goon stop lookin' Know what you did last summer, so I started hookin' You past shooken off an open can of ass-whoopin' Ain't no tomorrows in the Method's little shop of horrors Go ask your father who the father from the Hill to harbor You know the saga, marijuana blunts and Goldschläger With deadly medley, y'all ain't ready for Shakwon and Reggie Don't even bother, to radio for back-up (Back-up), alright then Your man got slapped up, extorted for his ice an' Streetlife is triflin', "Body over here!" Don't make me pull a Tyson and bite a nigga ear Precise and slicing jugulars, the cutthroat Ruggeder predator, viking, etc People's Champ, niggas be taking on competitors Reaching for the microphone, relax and light a bone Straight from the catacomb, the Children of the Corn That don't got a Clue, prepare for Desert Storm [Chorus: Method Man & Redman] Get up, stand up, back up, push up (Come on) Jump up, act up – to make y'all feel it Br-r-r-r-r stick 'em, ha-ha-ha, stick 'em Br-r-r-r-r stick 'em, ha-ha-ha, stick 'em Yo, blackout, shoot-out, smoked out, move out (Come on) Even knock your tooth out – to make y'all feel it Br-r-r-r-r stick 'em, ha-ha-ha, stick 'em Br-r-r-r-r stick 'em, ha-ha-ha, stick 'em [Verse 3: Redman & Method Man] I scored 1.1 on my S.A.T.  And still push a whip with a right and left A.C Gorilla, Big Dog, if my name get called I'm behind the brick wall with arsenic jaws Spit poison, got a gun permit, draw Gun down at sundown, you keep score This training course and y'all ain't fit On my crew tombstone put, "We all ain't shit!" Yo, all you gonna-be, wanna-be, when will you learn? Wanna be Doc and Meth? Gotta wait your turn I spit a .41 revolver on New Year's Eve With the mic in my hand, I mutilate MCs The most slept on since Rip Van Wink', my shit stink With every element from A to zinc, so what you think? I'ma blackout on just one drink? You must be crazy A little off-the-wall maybe, go get a shrink [Chorus: Method Man & Redman] Get up, stand up, back up, push up (Come on) Jump up, act up – to make y'all feel it Br-r-r-r-r stick 'em, ha-ha-ha, stick 'em Br-r-r-r-r stick 'em, ha-ha-ha, stick 'em Yo, blackout, shoot-out, smoked out, move out (Come on) Even knock your tooth out – to make y'all feel it Br-r-r-r-r stick 'em, ha-ha-ha, stick 'em Br-r-r-r-r stick 'em, ha-ha-ha, stick 'em