Method Man - Meth Vs. Chef

 (versiyon 1)
Metin boyutu: ( + Büyült ) ( - Küçült)   
Intro: 



Duel, worthy of a general 

If you want to fight, fight with me! 

One to one! Man to man! 



Get ready to gel team! 

Live and direct from the one-six-ooh 

We got Tical, pow! Raekwon the Chef, Tical! 

It's about to go on, Tical! 

You make the call, I make the call! 

It's all for all 

Method Man, Raekwon the Chef 

(count my shells) 

And there's about to be one left 

(count my shells, nigga) 

I know you know it'son kid 

(Bring that shit I don't give a fuck!) 

*bell rings* 



Verse One: Method Man 



Who lit that shit it was I the chinky-eye 

Cheeba-hawk from New York, Tical Staten Isle 

niggaz thought, that they could walk a dog but they caught 

a bad situation, cause I'm a sandwich short 

of a picnic, cause you ain't equipped with the sickening 

style, blowing up the spot like ballistic 

missiles, I be comin through like the four-nine-three-eleven 

tearing up the power-u, Me-Tical 

A bad motherfucking buddah monk, what the fuck 

hit your chest, like cardiac arrest, blow the front 

out the frame, hit the pussycat for the pain 

of the dog shit, nobody move run your garments 

A rugged vet, terrible like a Champion sweat 

Wrap a power in a tec, to wet 

a nigga up, with all the dangerous diseases 

Sniffling sneezing coughing aching stuffy head fever 

Fucker, I think it's bout time that you suffer 

Bobbin on my nob like an all day sucker 

*bell rings* Bitch! 

Meth Vs. Chef 

(it's my turn) Meth Vs. Chef 

(yo let's bring that shit baby) Meth Vs. Chef 

(yo, yeah, one more time nigga) Meth Vs. Chef 

(callin me out, it's goin off) I blow your fuckin ass to death 

*bell rings* 



Verse Two: Raekwon the Chef 



I'm goin all out kid no turnbacks 

You could try to front, get smoked and that's that 

Lyric assassin, dressed in black buggin 

Sixteen shots to your mug, from a slug then 

I go to war in a conrete jungle, make the punt 

cause niggaz act funny, and fumble 

But I relax, count my shells, a lot of heads gotta fly 

Niggaz stay strapped, armed to die 

Time for jet-black Tim boot, flowin 

Wha-Su God get him, hit em with the nine troop 

No question, cha-cha-BLOW in the session 

Bloodshot in that direction, cypher 

*bell rings* 

'Tack you like chess moves best move 

Yo, yeah, yo 

The boards, your ass 

'Tack, 'tack, 'tack, uH! *bell rings* 

'Tack the boards like chess moves best move 

at Rae through, comin at your motherfuckin crew 

Live direct, yeah you better step 

Gunshots ring on the set, let's jet 

Motivate, to the gate 

With some quick high Rae stay fly, and rob your Isle 

Airwaves, yo behave 

Now you're a slave with the boots that paved the way 

*bell rings three times* 

Ahh shit! 



Chef Vs. Meth Vs. Meth





© N/A




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