Method Man - Who Ya Rollin Wit (feat. ODB) Lyrics
f/ Shawnna, Streetlife[Intro: Method Man]Uh... what's really good?Yo, yo, yo..[Method Man]It's the unstoppable, over come any obstacleYa'll know my flavor, pack more punch than TropicalAny mission possible, do what I gots to doLabels gettin' butterfingers, and next they droppin' youYou think you know, but you have no ideaThe Diary of a Meth Man, what's this I hear?Somebody told ya'll, steppin' in shit was good luck?I got the hood stuck, chh-chh, now give the goods upYa'll done pushed up, past the point of no returnIt's Meth's turn, so roll that shit up and let's burnI heard Philly got the best 'scherm, out in Cali, they got the best permsNow that we know, when will the rest learn?Come on, each one, teach one, hear no evil, and I don't speak noneEverything cool until that heat comeJust call my name, and I'll be thereYa'll kids is slum, like the jewelry in Albi Square[Chorus: Streetlife (Shawnna)]We drinkin' Henny til we flip, poppin' bottles til we sickAll ya'll haters eat a dick (yeah, uh)Let's throw a party in this *****, all my niggaz and my chicksTell me who ya'll rollin' with (yeah)[Hook 2X: Streetlife (Method Man)]Method spits fire (Fire!) The roof's on (Fire!) My crew's on (Fire!)[Streetlife]M-E-T, H-O-D..[Method Man]Man, I'm in the house like foreclosuresTalk sober, until some dog gets forced overNew York soldiers, be at ease, fall backNever ever, I'm the New Era, like ball capsKid, whenever, whoever, whatever, ya'll want itYa'll can have it, the problem and answer, I'm all thatWhile we at it, let's tighten up our grips around that cabbageSilly rabbit, how many kid's done tricked you on your carrotsThe product of a bad package, like Bishop Don Juan it's MagicHow I break 'em like a bad habit, hit tracks like it's target practiceThen let these darts take a stab at itNiggaz ain't got it, ain't never had itI jam like L.A. traffic, Jellyroll behind the wheelAnd the passenger seat behind the fieldIt's your boy, physically fit, mentally sickGet dirty money, told you honey, I'm filthy rich[Chorus][Hook 2X w/o "fire" the second time][Interlude: Method Man]Yeah, ya'll niggaz don't know it's a gameUntil it starts again, let's do it, haha![Method Man]Six minutes, Method Man, you're onIf you thinkin' you gon' slip and be alright, you're wrongYou can see me lightin' the bong, while writin' the songsThat the crowd, is either singin' to or fightin' along, fightin' alongI'm try'nna tell you drugs is not your friendsAnd girlfriend, don't try and front like you got your friendI'm at the hotel, motel, Holiday InnAnd my chick's a man-eater, she be swallowin' menAight, live from New York, it's Saturday nightI got pipes that drain your confidence, and battery lightAight, mami tight, but she ain't really my typeIf ya'll don't see me treat her right, then she ain't really my wifeWhen I was young, I was stayin' in school, obeyin' rulesPlay with my food, what makes you think I'm playin' with you?This is it, ya'll better come on in, the water's fineJump on in, let's do it to 'em one more 'gain[Chorus][Hook 2X][Chorus][Outro: Method Man]Yeah, Ladies Love Big John StuddNo doubt, dick up in your mouthWe do this shit everyday, I'm in the cutWith my main shit stain, Ray-Ray Gutter ButtAnd we holdin' it down for the whole Staten Island, manNothin' else but Staten Island, manYa'll stand up, man, Stapleton, the Wild West, Park HillPort Richmond, Now Born, Jungle Nilz, hah... Peace!
