Method Man + Ghostface Freestyle

Lyrics

[Intro: Method Man & Ghostface Killah] One-two, one-two Got me open, kid, one-two, one-two Two, one-two, yeah Method Man, Ghostface Killah in the house (Word up) Check me out, check me out, yeah, yeah Yeah, yeah, Method Man, yo Method Man, yo, listen [Verse 1: Method Man & Ghostface Killah] What's 6-foot-4 coming at your jaw? It's me kid, coming from the 1-6-0 I got crew kid, straight from the smoked out lungs of the mad one Blow a crab to kingdom come 'cause it's real son Represent what town you're from And I kill rhymes quicker than a clock kill time Word life, god, fuck making fancy moves I need props, forget about a Hill Street Blue This is my block, nigga wanna test my stee I make shit hot, burn to a third degree And it don't stop, keep on to the break of dawn And I rip cords in half with the Wu-Tang style What up? Ha, you're blind 'cause you don't know math You's a bitch-ass nigga from a lightweight class Caution, you're pissing me off and its forcin' Me to have thoughts of extortion (Yeah, yo) [Verse 2: Ghostface Killah & Method Man] I'ma be here forever, max like the weather Thoughts designed and classified like genuine leather As I get down to the Brownsville You remain still as I shoot the gift at will With rough raps banging off of marvelous tracks Paragraphs slamming like a late night snack The rap therapist, you could get with this rhyme specialist Yes, I be possessed, leaving threats like a terrorist Blood spiller, ex-convict, verbal assaulter Disguising as a psychiatrist whose name's Walter Now I like smuggling mics of all types Spotlights at the airport and catch a flight To another chamber, then I will strike like a stranger Bad guys shorten they lives and lose fingers (Hey, hey) [Verse 3: Method Man] I swing funky rap routines and tap the jaws Spot you 20 points, bet you still can't score Nothing, 'cause you ain't got no points in this game Bitch, you frontin', I'm home run hittin', you be buntin' Fresh 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'll be the stormy weather Rain coming down so weatherproof your leather Jacket, a nigga with an axe couldn't hack it I spark him like a match, ch-chew, of a MAC It's the Method, say it loud, that the Method Man, clap your hands, now check it See me in the mix rolling fat blunts and spliffs For my physical, brother came through and got me lit Niggas that I walk by, give me the eye The moment is fuckin' me up, killin' me high Nigga, get back, you're pussy cat, fearsome Basically that, I'm all of that and them some While I was out on tour going berserk I heard you was at the sandbox and kicking dirt All on my name, but you can't pull my files You don't know me and you don't know my style 'Member that hair like that there? Yeah Even Grizzly Adams couldn't bare [Verse 4: Ghostface Killah] Yo, I'ma set it with one shot, forget me not Ghostface blows the spot, popping niggas like Ronnie Lott But of course, Wu-Tang Clan made The Source in no time Niggas got flipped and tossed off the single Hittin' like a bell when I jingle A fat rap dose of the Ghost is what I bring you At last, the Wu-Tang Clan got me gassed Labeled as a outcast, the beat got smashed Back up, thoughts is mad buck with real acts Like shorty hooded up in a church with two MACs Thoughts react so fast, I'm so sick So quick to jig a nigga up with an ice pick I'm stranded, facing your peeps, I be the one Picture Ghostface and the son, be on the run Reject that, brothers wouldn't never expect that Running up on the god Ghost, what's the catch? My technique, the words I speak shoot your freak I get deep like killing George Bush in his sleep Untold, no one seen shit, no one heard jack I'm overseas counting G's relaxed and laid back [Verse 5: Method Man] Are you ready to face the consequences and suffer? I'll even take ya mama, you ain't shit, motherfucker Bring it, and let that killer bee kid sting it And represent, it's like heads up, a brick When I swing it, get lost, I'll break you off something I'm pumping, like a Reebok, with my pump From the jump and you was nothing Bet you thought your freaking clan had ya back but they was fronting Smoking dirt blunts and fucking nasty sluts and You just a naked gun without the bullet, what you busting? Get your ship sunken, messing with this drunken Master disaster at any rap function, listen Who said the Wu-Tang Clan, was it you or your man? You wanna point the finger, I'll bring ya 36 chambers, be out, you's in danger Let me pull your brain out your ass with a hanger Didn't mama tell ya not to talk to a stranger? Now ya got ya neck in the noose of the strangler Just recline, keep the Meth in mind I'll even test a knuckle check on the hands of time [Verse 6: Ghostface KIllah] Nonchalantly, I roll up on the rap scene bluntly And lamp like I'm knocking off keys collecting monthly My nickel plated pattern of stacks rips The Gavin I build like I'm a stacking a log to make a cabin Runnin' wild in Midtown, hit the ground quick Mad bodies being lost and found No one can stop me 'cause that's a sin, you know era One thing, I bring the MC's, it be terror Kick dirt on jerks and shit, I be the expert Catch a hole in your shirt, John, I do work Ghostface maxing in the hall of fame place Suicidal blends that kick like no place Surviving, crazy live when I flips a track I hit a reverend in the head with a bat And threw his head in a showcase In a glass box with no case Who did it? Ghostface [Verse 7: Method Man] Ha, it be the Method Man coming again Goddamn at your command, listen Ring your gong, it's right not now, but right fuckin' now Recognize who the man, Meth Tical Coming from the slums of the Shaolin Isle, I be smoking Like a 24-hour store, I stays open Daylight, and I'm about to catch this flight to the far side Some stay my style is trife as Apartheid Knocking on the next man's door With the .44 automatic cocked for sure You get yours, first you gotta get mine, son Read your horoscope saying that it can't be done Hey, I get down with the Angel of Death I be's a pirate lampin' on the Dead Man's chest What? What? Huh, niggas wanna get stressed I stick that ass for your Meth, Ghostface [Verse 8: Ghostface Killah] Yeah, check it, fresh joint from out the stash, yo, yo First of all son, peep the arson Many brothers I be sparking and busting mad light inside the dark And call me dough snatcher, just the brother for the rapture I hang glide, holding on strong, hard to capture Extravagant, RZA bake the track and it's militant Then I react like a convict and start killing shit It's manifested, the Gods work like appliances Dealing in my cypher, I revolve around sciences 9th chamber, you get trapped inside my hallway You try to flee, but you got smoked by the doorway No question, I send your ass back, right to the essence Your whole frame is smothered in dirt, now how you resting? While I'll be trapped by sounds, locked behind loops Throwing niggas off airplanes 'cause cash rules Everything around me, Black, as you can see Swallow this number one verse like God's Degree Then analyze my soundtrack for satisfaction And you adapt like a flashback chain reaction [Outro] Yeah, nobody, done (Word up) Nothin' come after that (Boom, boom, boom) Ghostface blew up the spot (I'm outta here)