Method Man - Blackout Lyrics
Blackout"(feat. Redman)[Redman]It's Funk DocWhere da weed at, *****?!I speed back wist, down to one-way from copsSee thas' shit?! Believe thas' shit!Slaughter straight to camcorder, I'm too hot for t.v.Backdraw water, my windpipes attached toProject-ballersYou yell: "Turn the heat down!"My voice, divi-di-round-sound,some heard round townAnd chances are ya'll leavin', round nowWait later, will make Funk page paperDate Raper with juveline 8th GradersHit the High School at 187 CaesarWhen I bust ya'll need to back 4 acresDoc ya'll and that's my man JabberJawThe shitlist ready, who next to scratch off?I'm from the underground, my soundlibPlatform shoes to *****es, 400 pounds![Chorus:][Meth & Red]GET UP, STAND UP, BACK UP, PUSH UPJUMP UP, ACT UP TO MAKE YOU FEEL IT!Brrrrr...STICK 'EM, HA-HAHA STICK 'EMBrrrrr...STICK 'EM, HA-HAHA STICK 'EMYo' BLACKOUT, SHOOT OUT, SMOKED OUT MOVE OUT,EVEN KNOCK YA TOOTH OUT, TO MAKE YA'LL FEEL IT!Brrrrr...STICK 'EM, HA-HAHA STICK 'EMBrrrrr...STICK 'EM, HA-HAHA STICK 'EM[Meth]Now I'm the streettalkin', dogwalkin'Approach me with extreme caution, OH NOW YOU FORCIN'?My hand that rock yo' cradle often I'm hot-scorchin',but stone cold like Steve AustinIf you smell what Tical cookin',ain't tryin' to see central bookin'So til ya gon' stop lookin', know what you did lastsummer?So I started hookin', you past shookin'Offer open can of ass-whoopin'?Ain't no tomorrow's in the Method's Little Shop OfHorrorsGo ask your father who the father from the (Park)Hillto (Mariners)HarborYou know tha saga, marijuana blunts and GoldschlagerWith deadly medley, ya'll ain't ready for Shakwon andReggieDon't even bother, to radio for back-upAlright then, ya man got slapped up extorted for hisicin'Streetlife is triflin' *Body over here...!Nigga pull a Tyson and bite a nigga' earPrecisin', slicin' juggerless the cut-crewRuggeder, Predator, Viking, exceteraPeople's champ, niggaz be takin' off competetorsReachin' for the microphone, relax and light a boneStraight from the CatacombsThe Children Of The Corn, that don't got a cluePrepare for desert storm![Chorus]I scored 1.1 on my SATAnd still push a whip with a right and left ACGorilla, Big Dog, if my name get calledI'm behind the brickwall with arsenic JarsSpit poison, got a gun permit drawGundown at Sundown you keep score!This training-course and ya'll ain't fitOn my crew-tombstone put 'We All Ain't Shit'[Meth]Yo', all you gonna be, wanna be When will you learn?Wanna be Doc and Meth? Gotta wait ya turnI spit a .41 Revolver on New Year's EveWith the mic in my hand I mutilate m.c.'sThe most slept on since Rip Van WinkMy shit stink with every element from A to ZincSo what you think? I'm a blackout on just one drink?You must be crazy! A little off the wall maybeGo get a shrink...[Chorus
