"Ya'meen" lyrics - METHOD MAN

METHOD MAN

"Ya'meen"

feat. Fat Joe & Styles P

[Intro: Method Man]
Yo, I'm bout to hit you with this ya'meen
On top of the ya'meen, with a lil' bit of ya'meen mixed in
Ya'meen? Yeah... yeah... yo

[Verse 1: Method Man]
How should I get it started? Fuck it, just get it started
These trash talkin' artists is nothin', niggas is garbage
When Meth strike his target, leave it dearly departed
His flow is clearly the hardest, y'all gon' feel me, regardless
Might break a promise, but never, breakin' the code
Some get popped and call for they mamma when the drama unfolds
My block, hot as a sauna, marijuana and dough
Crack deals on every corner, fiends run up on ya with soap
And if life's a bitch, then I bet she's bitter and cold
Erry'time she thinkin' 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, but smell it all in his clothes
Yup, I'm still intact, how real is that? I'm back
With enough Sensamilla to fill ya vanilla wraps up
New York, New York, rock tube socks and Timberlands
'Cause hip hop ain't feelin' them flip-flops, they feminine

[Chorus: Method Man]
I'm the one shot dealin', one shot killin' it (ya'meen)
Yeah, it's the top billin', the block feelin' like (ya'meen)
Yeah, fuck with me (ya'meen), yeah, fuck with me (ya'meen)
If you not for squealing' and for spillin' the (ya'meen)
The streets is watchin' the apple rotten like (ya'meen)
Plus the B.B. hot and the towers droppin' like (ya'meen)
Yeah, fuck with this (ya'meen), yeah, fuck with this (ya'meen)
If you get it poppin', or get to poppin' 'em (ya'meen)

[Verse 2: Fat Joe]
You know the haters diss you, let's deal with bigger issues
You know New York is dyin' after all the shit we been through
And we done lost B.I.G., we done lost Pun
Homie, you can't live, gotta go and get them guns
You know them hammers'll lose your cabbage, them dudes do damage
Send Zulu Nation through Reaganomics, we move them package
We pushin' rain pain, gotta go and get that money
Y'all going "hey hey", but don't that pen look lovely
You - must - not - know - who - y'all niggas is fuckin' with
I - can - take - life - nig... just for the fuck of it
Crack's crazy, that nigga'll smack babies
Clap ladies for yackin' you gon' catch shady
Call it a mass shower, the way them hollow's drizzle
Mr. Potato Head, you know them things can't miss you
The Average Joe, with an average flow
Me and Meth bringin' back New York, nigga

[Verse 3: Styles P]
You don't like me, you can get what's right above the testicles
S.P., turn the top five into vegetables
You don't believe me? Get 'em all in the room
And the next five, I plan to gettin' all of them soon
Y'all can meet me at the table that's round, or get ya place in the ground
That's what you get when you facin' me, clown
Who got the crown? I'ma piss on it now while they wearin' it
Nobody nicer than Ghost, I ain't hearin' it
Been Nike Airin' it, white tee out
Stick-up kid season when the dice be out
I'm about to start investin' and liftin', niggas sippin' soup
Ghost rap, I'm knockin' out your icey mouth
Niggas in the East wanna unite, not me
If you ain't sayin' I'm the best, you ain't come at me right
Naw'Imean? If you don't, then you know how that beam
The four-four knock little pieces off of your spleen, nigga