Method Man (Instrumental)

Yeahhh, torture, mother****er, what?

Torture, nigga, what?

What? I'll ****in', I'll ****in' tie you to a ****in' bedpost

With your ass cheeks spread out and shit, right?

Put a hanger on a ****in' stove and let that shit sit there for like a half hour,

Take it off and stick it in your ass slow like tss

Yeah, I'll ****in', yeah, I'll ****in' lay your **** on a ****in' dresser,

Just your **** layin' on a ****in' dresser, and bang them shits with a spiked ****in' bat

Ooh whassup? Blaow!

I'll ****in', I'll ****in', pull your ****in' tongue out your ****in'

Mouth and stab the shit with a rusty screwdriver, blaoww!

I'll ****in', I'll ****in', I'll ****in' hang you by your ****in' **** off

A ****in' 12 sto-story building out this mother****er

I'll ****in', I'll ****in', sew your asshole closed, and keep feedin' you

And feedin' you, and feedin' you, and feedin' you

Yo, roll the dice, yo, roll the dice

Yo, so it's goin' down like that, huh? Yeah?

Niggas is whylin', check it out, kid

From the slums of Shaolin, Wu-Tang Clan strikes again

The RZA, the GZA, Ol' Dirty Bastard, Inspectah Deck

Raekwon the Chef, U-God, Ghostface Killah and the Method Man

M-E-T-H-O-D Man

M-E-T-H-O-D Man

M-E-T-H-O-D Man

M-E-T-H-O-D Man

Hey, you, get off my cloud!

You don't know me and you don't know my style

Who be gettin' flam when they come to a jam?

Here I am, here I am, the Method Man

Pat-a-cake, pat-a-cake, hey! The Method Man

Don't eat Skippy, Jif or Peter Pan

Peanut butter 'cause I'm not butter

In fact, I snap back like a rubber

Band, I be Sam, Sam-I-Am

And I don't eat green eggs and ham

Style will hit ya, wham! Then goddamn

You'll be like, "Oh shit, that's the jam!"

Turn it up, now hear me get buck w-w-wild

I'm about to blow, light me up

Upside, downside, inside and outside

Hittin' you from every angle, there's no doubt I

Am the one and only Method Man

The master of the plan, rappin' shit like Saran

Wrap, with some of this and some of that

Hold up (what?) I tawt I taw I putty tat

Over there, but I think he best to beware

Of the diggy dog shit right here

Yippy yippy yay yippy yah yippy yo

Like Deck said, this ain't your average flow

Comin' like rah ooh ah achie kah

Tell me, how you like it so far, baby paw?

The poetry's in motion, coast to coast and

Rub it on your skin like lotion

What's the commotion? Oh my Lord

Another corn chopped by the Wu-Tang sword

"Hey, hey, hey!" like Fat Albert

It's the Method Man, ain't no if ands about it

It's the Method

All right, y'all, get your White Owls

Get your meth, get your skins

Don't forget your forty

And we gonna do it like this

I got fat bags of skunk

I got White Owl blunts

And I'm about to go get lifted

Yes, I'm about to go get lifted

I got myself a forty

I got myself a shorty

And I'm about to go and stick it

Yes, I'm about to go and stick it, uhh

H-U-F-F, huff, and I puff

Blow like snow when the cold wind's blowin'

Zoooom, I hit the mic like boom!

Wrote a song about it, like to hear it? Here it goes

Question, what exactly is a panty raider?

Ill behavior, savior or major flavor

All of the above, oh yeah, plus seducer

Also, flam, I'm the man, call me super

Not an average Joe with an average flow

Doin' average things with average hoes

Yo, I'm super, I'll make a ***** squirm

For my Super Sperm (check it)

Check it, I give it to you raw butt-naked

I smell sess—pass the method

Let's get lifted as I kick ballistic

Missiles and shoot game like a pistol

Clip is loaded when I click bang (bang!)

A Wu-Tang slug hits your brain

J-U-M-P, jump, and I thump

Make girls rumps like pump and Humpty Hump

Wild, the Shaolin style is all in me

Child, the whole damn isle is callin' me

P-A-N-T-Y R-A-I-D-E-R, mad raw, I don't fry

Meaning, no one can burn or toss and turn me

Ooh, I be the super sperm

Chim chiminy chim chim cher-ee

Freak a flow and flow fancy free

Now, how many licks does it take

For me to hit the Tootsie Roll center of a break?

Peep and don't sleep, the crew's mad deep (Wu-Tang!)

Fadin' mother****ers like bleach

So to each and every crew

You're clear like glass, I can see right through

Your whole damn posse be catchin' 'em all, 'cause you vic'd

And you didn't have friends to begin with, I'm…

The M-E-T-H-O-D Man

M-E-T-H-O-D Man

M-E-T-H-O-D Man

Here I am, here I am, the Method Man

Straight from the slums of Shaolin

Wu-Tang Killa Beez on a swarm

(Your soul have just been tooken

Through the 36 Chambers of death, kid)

Word to mother, Method Man signin' off, peace