Blackout(Album Version (Explicit))

歌詞

[Redman] Yo yo yo yo.. it's Funk Doc, where the weed at, bitch? I speed backwards down a one-way from cops - see that shit? Believe that shit - slaughter, straight to camcorder I'm "Too Hot for TV," rap draw water My windpipe's attached to project ballers You yell: "Turn the heat down!" My voice, DVD 'round sound, so I'm heard round town And chances of y'all leavin? 'round now! Wait later, will make front page paper Date raper; with juvenile eighth graders Hit the high school and 187 Caesar When I bust y'all need to back fo' acres Doc y'all, and that's my man Jabberjaw The shitlist ready, who next to scratch off? I'm from the underground, my sound lift platform shoes to bitches, fo'-hundred pounds! Chorus: Method Man Redman GET UP, STAND UP, BACK UP, PUSH UP JUMP UP, ACT UP - TO MAKE Y'ALL FEEL IT! Brrrrr... STICK 'EM, HA-HA-HA STICK 'EM Brrrrr... STICK 'EM, HA-HA-HA STICK 'EM Yo' BLACKOUT, SHOOT OUT, SMOKED OUT, MOVE OUT EVEN KNOCK YOUR TOOTH OUT, TO MAKE Y'ALL FEEL IT! Brrrrr... STICK 'EM, HA-HA-HA STICK 'EM Brrrrr... STICK 'EM, HA-HA-HA STICK 'EM [Method Man] And I'm the street-talkin.. dog-walkin.. Approach me with extreme caution -- oh now you forcin my Hand to Rock Yo' Cradle often, I'm hot-scorchin but 'Stone Cold' like Steve Austin If you smell what Tical cookin Ain't tryin to see central bookin So tell ya goon stop lookin "Know What You Did Last Summer," so I started hookin You past shooken off an open can of ass-whoopin Ain't no tomorrow's in the Method's "Little Shop of Horrors" Go ask your father who the father from the hill to harbor You know tha saga, marijuana blunts and Goldschlager with deadly medley, y'all ain't ready for Shakwon and Reggie Don't even bother, the radio for back-up - alright then Your man got slapped up, extorted for his ice an' street life is triflin "Body over here!!" Don't make me pull a Tyson and bite a nigga ear Precise an', slicin jugulars, the cut-throat Ruggeder, predator, Viking, et cetera People's Champ, niggaz be takin on competitors Reachin for the microphone, relax and light a bone Straight from the catacomb, the Children of the Corn that don't got a CLUE .. prepare for "Desert Storm" Chorus [Redman] I scored 1.1 on my SAT And still push a whip with a right and left AC Gorilla, Big Dog, if my name get called I'm behind the brick wall with arsenic jaws Spit poison, got a gun permit draw Gun down at sundown - you keep score! This trainin course and y'all ain't fit On my crew tombstone put, "We all ain't shit!" [Method Man] Yo, all you gonnabe, wannabe, when will you learn? Wanna be Doc and Meth? Gotta wait your turn I spit a .41 revolver on New Year's Eve With the mic in my hand I mutilate MC's The most slept on since Rip Van Wink' My shit stink with every element from A to Z, so what you think? I'ma blackout on just one drink? You must be crazy! A little off the wall maybe - go get a shrink! Chorus