text: I used to get feels on a bitch
  Now I throw shields on the dick to stop me from that HIV shit
  And niggas know they soft like a Twinkie filling
  Playing the villain, prepare for this rap killing
  Biggie Smalls is the illest, your style is played out
  Like Arnold on that, What you talking bout, Willis?
  The thrill is gone, the Black Frank White
  Is here to excite and throw dick to dykes
  Bitches I like em brainless, guns I like em stainless steel
  I want the fucking fortune like the Wheel
  I squeeze gats til my clips is empty
  Dont tempt me, you dont want to fuck with the M-E...
  ...T-H-O-D Man, here I am
  Ill be damned if this aint some shit
  Come to spread the butter lyrics over hominy grit
  Its the low killer death trap, yes Im a jet-black ninja
  Coming where you rest at, surrender
  Step inside the ring, yous the number one contender
  Looking cold-booty like your pussy in December
  Nigga, stop bitching, button up your lip and
  From Method all you getting is a can of ass-whipping
  Hey, Ill be kicking you son, you doing all the yapping
  Acting as if it cant happen
  Your frontin got me mad enough to touch something
  Yo, Im from Shaolin Island and aint afraid to bust something
  So what you want nigga? You wont nigga
  I got a 6-shooter and a horse named Trigger
  Its real, 94 rugged-raw
  Kickin down your goddamn door
  And it goes a little something like this
  Fuck the world, dont ask me for shit
  Everything you get you gotta work hard for it
   You dont stop
   Keep on, bitch
  Verse two, coming with that Olde E brew
  Meth-tical, putting niggas back in ICU
  Im lifted, troop, you can bring your wack-ass crew
  I got connections, Ill get that ass stuck like glue
  Huh, no question, I be coming down and shit
  Yo I gets rugged as a motherfucking carpet get
  And niggas love it, not in the physical form but in the mental
  I spark and they cells get warm
  Im not a gentleman, Im a Method Man
  Baby accept it, utmost respect it, and
   Stop look and listen
  I spit on your grave then I grab my Charles Dickens, bitch
  Welcome to my center, honeys feel it deep in they placenta
  Cold as the pole in the winter
  Far from the inventor, but I got this rap shit sewed
  And when my MAC unloads
  Im guaranteed another video
  Ready to die, why I act that way?
  Pop duke left mom duke, the faggot took the back way
  So instead of making hoes suck my dick up
  I used to do stick-ups, cause hoes is irritating like the hiccups
  Excuse me, flows just grow through me
  Like trees to branches, cliffs to avalanches
  Its the praying mantis, deep like the mind of Farrakhan
  A motherfucking rap phenomenon, plus
  I make it hot, 
  Nigga touch me you better bust me three times in the head
  Or motherfuckers dead, you thought so
  Fuck the world, dont ask me for shit
  And everything you get you gotta work hard for it
   You dont stop
   Keep on, bitch
  Fuck the world, dont ask me for shit
  Everything you get you gotta work hard for it
   You dont stop
   Keep on, bitch
  Junior M.A.F.I.A. clique in full effect 
  Ah, yeah, hell yeah 
  Bedford–Stuyvesant the livest one 
  My borough is thorough 
  Recognize