♪♪ One, two, uh, one, one, one, two, uh, one, one, uh. M-E-T-H-O-D, man, M-E-T-H-O-D, man, M-E-T-H-O-D, man, M-E-T-H-O-D, man. Hey, you, get off my cloud. You don't know me and you don't know my style. We'll be getting firm when they come to a jam. Here I am, here I am, the method man. Pat-a-cake, pat-a-cake, hey, the method man. Don't need Skippy, Jeff, or Peter Pan. Peanut butter, cause I'm not butter. In fact, I snap back like I'm rubber bands. I be Sam, Sam I am, and I don't eat green eggs and ham. Style'll hit you, wham, then god damn. You'll be like, oh shit, that's the jam. Turn it up, now hear me, get up. Wh-wh-wham, I'm about to blow, light me up. Upside down, side inside and outside. Hittin' you from every angle, there's no doubt. I am the one and only method man. The master of the plans, rappin' shit like Saran. Rap with some of this and some of that. Hold up, I thought I know a putty tat over there. But I think he better still beware of the diggy dog shit right here. Yippee, yippee, yeah, yippee, yah, yippee, yo. Like Dex said, this ain't your average flow. Comin' like raw, ooh, what you call? Tell me how you like it so far, baby boy. The poetry's in motion, coastin', coastin'. Rub it on your skin like lotion. What's the commotion? Oh my lord. Another corn chop by the Wu-Tang sword. Hey, hey, hey, like Bad Alvin. It's the method man, ain't no ifs, ands about it. It's the method. Man, uh, like that, baby boy, uh. Check it, I got fat bags of skunk. I got white owl buns. And I'm about to go get lifted. Yes, I'm about to go get lifted. I got myself a 40. I got myself a shorty. And I'm about to go and stick it. Yes, I'm about to go and stick it. H-U-F-F, huh, and I pump. Flow like snow when the cold wind blow. Then zoom, I hit the mic like boom. Put a song about it like, here it, here it go. Question, what exactly is a panty raider? Ill behavior, savior, or major flavor? All of the above, oh yeah, plus a deucer. Also flammable, man, call me super. Not an average joke with an average flow. Doing average things with average hoes. No, I'm super. I make a bitch squirm from my super sperm. Check it, I give it to you raw, butt naked. Osmosis, pass the method. Let's get lifted and I kick bullet. Take me through the shoot game like a pistol. Clip is loaded when I click bang, bang. A Wu-Tang slug hits your brain. J-U-M-P, jump, and I thump. And I thump, make girls ropes like pump and humpy hump. Wow, the challenge now is all in me. Chow, the whole damn pal is calling me. P-A-N-T-Y-R-A-I-D-E-R, man, raw. I don't cry, meaning no one can burn. I toss and turn me, cause who I be? The super sperm. Chim-chim, I need chim-chim-chirring. Freak up, oh, and flow fancy free. Now how many licks does it take for me to hit the tootsie roll center of my brain? Beat, don't sleep, the crew's mad deep. Wu-Tang, make motherfuckers like bleach. So to each and every crew, you're clear like glass. I can see right through your whole damn paws. If you're catching them all, that's your business. You're pitting that winch to begin with. I'm the M-E-T-H-O-D, man. M-E-T-H-O-D, man. M-E-T-H-O-D, man. Yes, I am. Uh, uh. Rappers crossing over to that R&B jinx. Walking around town like your shit don't stink. Take it from me, hey, G, you know what I made me. Shot me at point-blank range, but only grazed me. Nothing mental, just plain and simple. Lyrics your boss couldn't bust a fucking pimple. Come here, kid. What? Let me tell you something. Your life changed up a penny, nothing. Wham. Oh, shit. Goddamn. Skippy, hit me. Man, I get flammed. Very unhectic. Wreck shit. I'm rowdy like Alexis. Check this. P-O-W-D. Dippy, dippy, dump. Dippy, tar. Dippy, dump. Direct from the Jowling swamp. Here I come. Straight from the cop. The cop. Yo, I'm lit up. I put it in your ear and fuck your whole head up. Wu-Tang sling bang. Up your butt cracking. Straight from Staten. Silky like satin. Use direct clicks with stones and sticks. Now what did we do with the max and clips? The method, man. The method, man. The method, man. Yes, I am. Yes, I am. M-E-T-H-O-D, man. M-E-T-H-O-D, man. M-E-T-H-O-D, man. M-E-T-H-O-D, man. 92 for the woo. The Hell Brothers want it. With salt or butter. Motherfucker. A doodoo chop, a doodoo chop, chop.