Text:
Method Man 4 21 The Day After

****, then I bet she bitter and cold Every time she thinking I fold, seven figures get sold Meth, all in your chest or inhale it all in your nose Cops don't know about this Method

you don't wanna ride with Dirt, you still stuck in coach You don't wanna fly in first, yo, I can spit, yo You don't wanna ride with Meth, we still sniffing

gotta sugar my tank or key the kid car 'Cuz broken hearts leave big scars, when emotions get hit hard Niggaz get drunk and hit the strip bar But that ain't even ya man

sofa This is just a few of them things that I gotta have, hell, yeah I gotta have my next pair of fresh airs, dress me in the best wears Meth yea, want

System In the, in the event of an actual emergency You will be told to fall out S.I. rockin' it, N.Y. rockin' it S*** we stay poppin' it, 4-5 rockin

just like that Big baller, nigga, just like Shaq, so come on, niggaz If they busting, I better bust right back 'Meth spit it from the guts like Man

D, why motherf***ers wanna hate on me? (Konichiwa bi*ches) For every rhyme, there's a hair on my chest Scared of the Man, you should be scared of the Meth

up to my man Magic down in MIA, what up cuzo? Knock, knock, who is it, ah sh*****, hot peas and butter Come and get it, somebody done f**ked up, now Meth

the borough, Park Hill, we still click Wu-Tang, Wu-Tang, that's the Clan, we run s*** Aiyo, you f***ing with some capital G's, Allah Math Street life, Meth Man