[feat. Method Man, Redman]
[Method Man on a phone]
"Ayyo, this is Meth, a-k-a Johnny Blaze
Word up and this is second out the Drunken Master
Yeah, I'm fucked up right now- What?!"
[Drunken Master (Redman)]
"Ayyo, we gon' swing it to the Jersey side, you-know-what-I-mean?
Drunkenstyle '99, Drunken Master up in here ridin' for you and your's,
you-know-what-I'm-sayin'? I got my man Redman up in here
and he about to do his thing on the freestyle shit, word up"
("Ohhhhh, I'm in this thing like this")
"So Reggie Noble, get in and do your thing,
get in where you fit in
Set it off like thiiiiiis"
I'ma start it like this: niggas ride dick
Come to the D-Town, shit sick
Slap a bitch across her face
Who 'dat comin' through? Erase the taste out 'cha mouth
then I hide out down South
Tell my Grandma I need a glock out
She be like, 'Son, what you on the run for?'
It's the Funk Doc comin' through wit' Resevoir
Dogs type of material- Veinarial
Disease, squeeze on these weak-ass M.C.'s
Why ya bitch sweatin' me, Rock The Bells,
I battle yo' ass 'til her feet is out like Chanels
And we could go on for days
Whose 'dat nigga runnin' like roaches, spray the Raid
Wit' my niggas in the D, rollin' up the Gands
Anybody wanna test Doc, put up ya hands
Pull out a nine, bust ya mind
When I click, my toungue click like synchronized nines
And I rob ya town and I get down
Pull out the four-pound, br-br-br-br-br-brown
Yes, y'all- Grab my balls
Y'all mothafuckas vacade your college dorm halls
and I stand still, kill at will
Whose that nigga peelin' back bananna peels, cocked back.
The dirty rat on the street
All you weak M.C.'s don't wanna test me, want beef?!
Yes, y'all- And I bring it on back
like O.D.B., Bring It On Back!
Uh. Yo, yo.
Up in the sky, playa, who could it be?
Drunken Master, creepin' through the 3-1-3
My nigga Reggie Noble, yo, he got my back
We layin' niggas flat and blazin' up back-to-back
sacks and when I come through mashin' and dumpin',
niggas be like 'That's Dre The Drunken... ("Drunken Master")
...Master' 'Bout to blast you wit' the four-pound
Lay you down and escape through the Underground
Blurry like the fog, ridin' wit' my dog
Drunken Mast choke you out like L-A smog
Comin' though with that '99 freestyle
Me and Funk Doc mashin' down 7 Mile
Drunkenstyle '99, nigga- Hell yeah
[Redman (Drunken Master)]
Illin' comin' down and I fuck a bitch faster
Word is bond, no jokin'
Everything I be tokin' and smokin'
is out of this world and I take your
girl, rob her for her Shirling coat and dope
Never sniff coke but I'm broke
Got a little change in my pocket wit' a rope ("Where's it at?")
around my neck wit' a medallion hangin'
I'm on the bitch' big ass, twelve bangin'
like... I flip my styles like dyke
and rob a white boy for Bajha Bike
I'm trife and your wife like it
If you throw the football, I'ma spike it
down in your mouth and I pull the glock out
like... and that's hype
That type... 'll slap ya ass
Who 'dat, pull out the gun and clap ya ass?!
Just because I rap, I'm not a sucka
Grab the mic like Hulk Hogan, 'Well, ya know Brother?!'
What's this? Comin' down,
Funk Doc rob the ice off your wrist
and tell you, smell you
While I locked down, I'm crazy. Locked down in Bellview
That's in New York, M.C.'s feel me
Jersey representin', come hittin'
like you saw Tupac wit' two glocks
Pull out two guns and I bust it on two cops
and I ask who da best
If you don't like me, I put thirty-eight more slugs in your chest
Wit' my man Drunken Masta
Take over this town, run it out of sound
Give a fuck ("Shut it down")
And I start spittin' darts out the tongue, niggas duck!
Peace to my man Jigga-J,
my man DMX. What 'cha say?
My man Meth-Tical, Def jam style
If you don't like Doc...
[End is carried into "My City"]
...you can kiss my ass!
You can kiss my ass!
Yo, you can kiss my ass!
Yo, yo, yo- it don't stop
Yo, it don't quit
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