Meth vs. Chef Songtext
von Method Man feat. Raekwon
Meth vs. Chef Songtext
Skills worthy of a general
If you want to fight, fight with me
One to one, man to man
Get ready to doubt-T
Live and direct from the one-six-OOH
We got Tical, pow, Raekwon and 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 and Chef (count my shells)
And there′s about to be one left (count my shells nigga)
I know you know it's yours kid (bring that shit I don't give a fuck)
Who lit that shit, it was I, the chinky eye
Chiba-hawk from New York, Tical, Staten-Isle
Niggas thought, that they could walk a dog
But they caught, a bad situation
′Cause I′m a sandwich short of a picnic
Bitch I ain't equipped with the sickening, style
Blowin′ up the spot like ballistic, missiles
I be comin' through, like the four, nine, three,11
Tearin′ up the power-U, Meth-Tical
A bad motherfuckin' buddha monk, with the blunt
Hit your chest, like cardiac arrest, blow the front
Out the frame, make the pussycat feel the pain
Of the dog shit, nobody move run your garments
A rugged vet, durable, like a champion sweat
Wrap a burner in the tec, to wet
A nigga up with all the dangerous disease-a
Sickness leave they coffee yanking, stuffy head fever
Fucker, I think it′s 'bout time that you suffer
Slobbing on my knob like an all-day sucker, bitch
Meth vs. Chef, Meth vs. Chef
Meth vs. Chef, Meth vs. Chef
I blow your fuckin' ass to death
I′m going all out kid, no turn-back
You can try to front, get smoked and that′s that
Lyric assassin, dressed in black rugged
Sixteen shots to your mug, from a slug then
I go to war in a concrete jungle, makin' bundles
Niggas act funny, and fumble, but I relax
Count my shells, a lot of heads gotta fly
Niggas stay strapped, armed to die
Die for jet-black Timb boot, four in, with two
God get ′em, hit 'em with the nine to
No question, ch-ch-blaow, in the session
Bloodshot, in that direction, cipher
Attack, you like chess moves, best moves
Yo, yeah, yo, attack the boards
And last, attack, attack, attack, uh
Attack 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, for some quick high race
Stay fly, and rob your lab
Airwaves yo behave, now you're a slave
With the bullets that, paved the way
Ohh sick
Chef vs. Meth vs. Meth
If you want to fight, fight with me
One to one, man to man
Get ready to doubt-T
Live and direct from the one-six-OOH
We got Tical, pow, Raekwon and 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 and Chef (count my shells)
And there′s about to be one left (count my shells nigga)
I know you know it's yours kid (bring that shit I don't give a fuck)
Who lit that shit, it was I, the chinky eye
Chiba-hawk from New York, Tical, Staten-Isle
Niggas thought, that they could walk a dog
But they caught, a bad situation
′Cause I′m a sandwich short of a picnic
Bitch I ain't equipped with the sickening, style
Blowin′ up the spot like ballistic, missiles
I be comin' through, like the four, nine, three,11
Tearin′ up the power-U, Meth-Tical
A bad motherfuckin' buddha monk, with the blunt
Hit your chest, like cardiac arrest, blow the front
Out the frame, make the pussycat feel the pain
Of the dog shit, nobody move run your garments
A rugged vet, durable, like a champion sweat
Wrap a burner in the tec, to wet
A nigga up with all the dangerous disease-a
Sickness leave they coffee yanking, stuffy head fever
Fucker, I think it′s 'bout time that you suffer
Slobbing on my knob like an all-day sucker, bitch
Meth vs. Chef, Meth vs. Chef
Meth vs. Chef, Meth vs. Chef
I blow your fuckin' ass to death
I′m going all out kid, no turn-back
You can try to front, get smoked and that′s that
Lyric assassin, dressed in black rugged
Sixteen shots to your mug, from a slug then
I go to war in a concrete jungle, makin' bundles
Niggas act funny, and fumble, but I relax
Count my shells, a lot of heads gotta fly
Niggas stay strapped, armed to die
Die for jet-black Timb boot, four in, with two
God get ′em, hit 'em with the nine to
No question, ch-ch-blaow, in the session
Bloodshot, in that direction, cipher
Attack, you like chess moves, best moves
Yo, yeah, yo, attack the boards
And last, attack, attack, attack, uh
Attack 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, for some quick high race
Stay fly, and rob your lab
Airwaves yo behave, now you're a slave
With the bullets that, paved the way
Ohh sick
Chef vs. Meth vs. Meth
Writer(s): Robert F. Diggs, Clifford Smith, Corey Woods Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
