Method Man, Ghostface Killah - Ghostface Killah & Method Man - Freestyle (Stretch and Bobbito, 1994) lyrics

Listen, what 6 foot 4 coming at your jaw
It's me kid, coming from the 1-6 oooh
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 you'll time
Word life god, fuck making fancy moves
I need props forget about a Hill Street Blue
This is my plot, 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'se a bitch ass nigga
From a light-weight class
Caution, you're pissing me off


And it's forcin'
Me to have thoughts of extortion

Yo, 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
Gif at will with rough raps
Banging off of marvellous 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 who lays water
This child was born to be
Purse snatching, robbing old men, I was foul
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
Meth Tical, word up (Tical, Tical, Tical)

Check me out now, check me, check me out now
Here we, here we go wu Tang bang here I come
Yo-ho-ho and a bottle full of rum
Nah, not that one, come again son
Straight out the dome with the hellified poem
I be the Meth Tical coming
With the fresh freestyle
It's off the head and
Never been written before
I said that i'm the baddest
Brother in the land i be the man M-E T-H-O-D
Yes I am, Yes I am, here I am
Never eat the ham i like what
Hit the girl from behind with
My ill type rhyme
Got the style make you wanna like man combine
Connect four, coming through the door
You know the style
The man he be the Meth Tical (say what?)
Come on, Come on, Come on, Ghostface
Hit me with a taste

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 and I jingle
A fat rap dose of the Ghost
Is what I bring you
At last the Wu Tang Clan got me gassed
Labelled as a outcast the beat got smashed
Back up, thoughts is mad buck with real ass
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 in the sun, 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

Are you ready
To face the consequences and suffer?
I even take ya momma 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 break you off something
I'm pumping, like a Reebok, with a pump
From the jump and you was nothing
Bet you thought your freakin' 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 this drunken
Master disaster at any rap functions
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'se in danger
Let me pull your brain out
Your ass with a hanger
Didn't momma 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

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
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 north lace
Surviving, crazy live when I flips a track
I hit a reverend in the head with a bat
And thew his head in a showcase
In a glass box with no case
Who did it? Ghostface!

Now the new style like Buckshot
And my man King Just
I'ma come with the harmonized style
Here we go, here we go, here we go
Here we go check it out, check it out!

I got 36 styles on my mind, on my mind
Keep it real, Shaolin represent one time
All my people are you with me, where you at?
All my killer bees on attack, where you at?
Throw your fuckin' hands in the air
If you want 'em there
If got got your gats peel a
Cap for the new year
Bodies in motion, what's the commotion?
Wu Tang Clan be attacking your emotion
Flowin' like the ocean blue
I be coming for your crew
Flying guillotines style with the
Name Meth Tical
Is it going, is it going, is it gone?
If I ain't on your record then
The shit ain't really on
One man band from the Wu Tang Clan
Ask who the man, god damn it be Method
Here I, here I am and the plan
Hey! (Hey) What? What?
I gotta get it going on, yeah, down the stair
Hey! Hey! I swing funky raps
Routines and tap the jaws
Spot you 20 points that you still can't score
Nothing, because you ain't got no
Points in this game bitch you frontin'
I'm home run hittin' you be buntin'
Fresh out the toilet and I
Got my shit together
When I'm good, i'm good, when bad, I'm better
You want it? Whatever
I 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 of a MAC
It's the Method, say it loud and the Method
Man, clap your hands Now check it
See me in the mix rolling
Fat blunts and spliffs saw my physical
Brother came through and got me lit
Niggas that I walk by and 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 that and them some
While I was out on tour going berserk
I heard you was at the
Sandbox and kicking dirt
All of my name but you can't pull my files
You don't know me and you don't know my style
Remember that hair like that, there yeah!
Even Grizzly Adams couldn't bare

Yo, I know a kid by the name of Jiganti
Jiganti's a Teflon Don with a diamante
Forest green with the seats
Looking crazy mean
On some more rough type shit to make CREAM
A little this, a little that
A little bit of everything
Had a little beef with Fat Cat
But it was over
My man's Range Rover got iked
And his piece got raped like the same night
Though it took place standing on
The block selling base
And covering grounds, so how that sound?
Within the midst of making CREAM
Jiganti, born in Cuba while
Looking like Bruce Springsteen
He had papes and had mad shit
He had Clacks and Muggs sticking
Niggas like hot gritts
But Fat Man's van got iked, and saw heavy man
Riding the 190E with a metal pipe
And tried to bug on my man Muggs
But Muggs pulled out the 16
Shot and threw two slugs
And now you read it in the New York Post
How a man got slain by an insane Co-Host
Jiganti's blowin' like a motherfucker
And Clacks got a Range Rover with a chauffeur
And yo
Shit got deep and all of that but yo black
Why did it have to go down like that?

Shit's gonna happen if niggas start actin'
Like they want problems
You want 'em? You got 'em
Rap contact, is writin' this exact-
Ly, the way it should, be, attack
Killer Bees on the swarm
Salaikum as-salaam, drops bombs like Qur'an
The ism helps to stimulate my pugilism
I bust rhymes like jism
Impregnate the rhythm with the wisdom
Decipher, the stee, I be hyper
I dwindle the style
That rekindle like old flames
Saliva, check the wicked flows I delyvah
Oops, I mean deliver like the Hudson River
Style came trite
Trife like a thief in the night
I be that sneaky-ass nigga bustin'
Nuts in yo wife
Blasted, buggin' off Bacardi and acid
Flippin' on the mic like gymnastic tical!

Do you want to flip this?
Face, the Ghostface KIllah, check me
Ha! It be the Method Man coming again
God damn at your command
Listen, when your gone, it's right not now
But right fuckin' now
Recogize who the man, Meth Tical
Coming from the slums of the Shaolin Isle
I be smoking
Like a 24 hour store I stays open day light
And I'm about to catch this
Flight to the far side
Some stay my style is trite as apartheid
Knocking on the next mans 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

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 up 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 Degree
Then analyze my soundtrack for satisfaction
And you adapt like a flashback chain reaction