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Method Man

Blackout! 2, Method Man Blackout! 2 2009, Album
Tical, Method Man Tical 1995, Album
Wu-Massacre, Method Man Wu-Massacre 2010, Album
4:21... The Day After, Method Man 4:21... The Day After 2006, Album
Blackout, Method Man Blackout 1999, Album
Blackout!, Method Man Blackout! 1999, Album
How High, Method Man How High 2001, Tribute
Tical 2000: Judgement Day, Method Man Tical 2000: Judgement Day 1999, Album
Ticallion (Bootleg), Method Man Ticallion (Bootleg) 2008, Bootleg
Reflections (A Retrospective), Method Man Reflections (A Retrospective) 2006, Album
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Tical, Method Man
Release type: Album
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Duration: 48:52  
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Tical Lyrics
*sounds of fighting*

"You've been lucky... I wish I got you last time.
En garde, I'll let you try my Wu-Tang style."
"I'd like to try your Wu-Tang style, let's begin then!"

Intro: Method (and others)

From the tip top?
(Aiyyo aiyyo, what the fuck's up with light dude?)
One two (no doubt, no doubt)
One two one two
Yo one two, uh, one two one two (yeahh, we gon' be up in that)
Ah one two, uh, one two one two (yeah light that shit up)
Ah one two yo, check me out


What's that shit that they be smokin? Tical... tical, tical
Pass it over here... tical... tical, tical
What's that shit the niggaz smokin? Tical... tical, tical
Pass it over here... tical... tical, tical

Verse One:

Check it, I got styles, all of em sick
Niggaz ain't fit to walk a mile in the dead man's kicks
I make em shit about a pile, of bricks to show
He ain't nuttin but another, a lone John Doe
That wanna flow, here it is, comin up shit's creek
I come to throw monkey wrenches in your program, sleep
and I'ma grow, like a rash on ya nasty ass
In a whip, with no breaks and I'm hittin the gas
It's a bird, it's a plane, take a look in the sky
Method Man on some shit, niggaz call me The Fly
Cause my style, dates back to hoppin turnstyles
Make ya fear, if ya cutie in the chair, you can bet I'll
get severe on the double I harass it
I don't look for trouble, I'm already trouble
Ya bastard, check the wicked flows that I crafted
Open up a deadly venom style to be mastered
By a psychopathic, way beyond an average
Joe, with a hellafied flow, there ya have it


One two, uh, one two one two
One two, uh, one two one two
One two, uh, one two one two
Check it out

Verse Two:

What goes off? What goes on? The Meth shit
that we got is to stay high, no question
Lethal weapon, ain't no time for half steppin
When brothers start wettin everything in ya section
Move that, niggaz came strapped, shoulda knew that
Do dat, pussy cat rap, boy, I'll screw that
To' up, from the flow up, don't even show up
To the battle, I heard you rattle now hold up
Is there a fuckin snake in my garden?
Starvin, for a rap treat, steppin on my feet
Pardon yo delf, before ya find yo delf
In a FUCKED UP situation, without no help
I'm not playin, cause I don't play with nobody
God damn kid, know what I'm sayin, I'm peelin niggas wigs
I be sprayin, brother with words
Cause I got a spit PRAAA-BLEM


One two uh, one two one two
One two uh... (stick a fat tical in your butt, yeah baby fuckin with tical)
(yeah niggaz better recognize... tical...)
03:58 192 5,44 0.10
Biscuits Lyrics
Will it wash away?
Will it ever seem right again?
Is it a passing phase?
Or a search for those lesser known qualities?
I can feel when you lie
I can see the regret staring in your face
I forsee the demise
I feel content for a day
Parts flown in out of state
It's a rare antique that you're seeking out
All your life
Hearts won't beat up your ace
They're seen all the cards
That your dealing out
Every day
Words we confiscate
Words we utilize to falsify the evidence
In a modern age
In a world where you can't believe in anything
Simple plan we devise
Sum of all hopes and fears of prosperity
Stubborn will could comply
So free will you can escape
Close my eyes, bless me all the way
02:50 192 3,89 0.10
Bring The Pain Lyrics
Basically, can't fuck with me

Verse One:

I came to bring the pain hardcore from the brain
Let's go inside my astral plane
Find out my mental's based on instrumental
records hey, so I can write monumental
Methods, I'm not the King
But niggaz is decaf I stick em for the CREAM
check it, just how deep can shit get
Deep as the abyss and brothers is mad fish accept it
In your Cross Colour, clothes you've crossed over
Then got Totally Krossed Out and Kris Kross
Who da boss? Niggaz get tossed to the side
And I'm the dark side of the Force
Of course it's the Method, Man from the Wu-Tang Clan
I be hectic, and comin for the head piece protect it
Fuck it, two tears in a bucket, niggaz want the ruckus
Bustin at me bruh, now bust it
Styles, I gets buckwild
Method Man on some shit, pullin niggaz files
I'm sick, insane, crazy, Drivin Miss Daisy
Out her fuckin mind now I got mine I'm Swayze


Is it real son, is it really real son
Let me know it's real son, if it's really real
Something I could feel son, load it up and kill one
Want it raw deal son, if it's really real

Interlude: Booster

And when I was a lil stereo (stereo)
I listened to some champion (champion)
I always wondered (wondered)
Will now I be the numba one? (Tical! hahaha)
Now you listen to de gargon (Gargon!)
And de gargon summary
And any man dat come test me (test me)
Me gwanna lick out dem brains (it's like that)

Verse Two:

Brothers want to hang with the Meth bring the rope
the only way you hang is by the neck nigga poke
off the set comin to your projects
Take it as a threat, better yet it's a promise
Comin from a vet on some old Vietnam shit
Nigga you can bet your bottom dollar hey I bomb shit
And it's gonna get even worse word to God
It's the Wu comin through sickin niggaz for they garments
Movin on your left, southpaw em it's the Meth
Came to represent and carve my name in your chest
You can come test realize you're no contest
Son I'm the gun that won that old Wild West
Quick on the draw with my hands on the four
nine three eleven with the rugged rhymes galore
Check it cause I think not when this hip-hops like proper
Rhymes be the proof while I'm drinkin 90 proof
Huh vodka, no OJ, no straw
When you give it to me aiy, give it to me raw
I've learned when you drink Absolut straight it burns
Enough to give my chest hairs a perm
I don't need a chemical blow to pull a hoe
All I need is Chemical Bank to pay da mo'

What, basically that, Meth-Tical, ninety-four style
Word up we be hazardous *car crashing* *horn passing me*
Northern spicy brown mustard hoes
We have to stick you
*horn sound of car racing by*



I'll fuckin, I'll fuckin cut your kneecaps off
and make you kneel in some staircase piss

I'll fuckin, cut your eyelids off
and feed you nuthin but sleepin pills

You motherfuckers
(So???) So fuck the hoe
Fuck the hoe

(Look at this nigga, this motherfuckin...)
03:09 192 4,34 0.10
All I Need Lyrics 03:16 192 4,49 0.10
What The Blood Clot Lyrics
All I hear is gun shots. Can I touch something?
What the blood claat! Niggaz want tical, make it happen.
You know my fuckin' style, fuck the rappin',
We can take it back to eighty-five if you wanna START actin' like you live
It's all good. I'm rollin' with my clique,
Owls, Packwoods & Phillies, smokin' sess blunts, mixed with illy
Got me bustin', now the whole world looks dusted,
I'm in the area with the skill that never rusted.
For real, nigga, touch it & you burn, when will motherfuckers learn
What be spreadin' like a germ? Ha ha, it's Meth, word.
I be that early bird that got the worm & if you check it
I'm on point, like a fax machine you get the message.
It be no question & them bust the second guessin's,
Keep your thoughts on your lessons. What the blood claat!
To tell the truth, you don't amaze me. Killa Hill project,
A Star Trek phaser couldn't phase me. What,
Check the Raderuckus FUCK this,
Smoke a Dutchmaster, have 'em screamin' for the duchess
Yeah, I gotta have it, so I strive to stick my piece
If I don't do it for mydelf, I'm a do it for Kase,
'Cause that's my peoples, I'm giving you injections that be Lethal
Weapon, when niggaz start the half steppin',
Then I get evil. But don't let that negative vibe right there
Mislead you, I'm humble, a fucking Killer Bee,
Far from bumble. I sting you BZT and I bring you
Thirty-six chambers of head banger, bitch,
Why I deal with? I think the mic is on the fritz.
Faggot soundmen! They be sabotagin' shit!
Look up in the sky, it's a bird, it's a plane...
Methical, let the whole world know my fuckin' name.
What the blood claat!
03:24 192 4,69 0.10
Meth Vs. Chef Lyrics

Duel, worthy of a general
If you want to fight, fight with me!
One to one! Man to man!

Get ready to gel team!
Live and direct from the one-six-ooh
We got Tical, pow! Raekwon the 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 the Chef
(count my shells)
And there's about to be one left
(count my shells, nigga)
I know you know it'son kid
(Bring that shit I don't give a fuck!)
[bell rings]

[Verse One: Method Man]

Who lit that shit it was I the chinky-eye
Cheeba-hawk from New York, Tical Staten Isle
niggaz thought, that they could walk a dog but they caught
a bad situation, cause I'm a sandwich short
of a picnic, cause you ain't equipped with the sickening
style, blowing up the spot like ballistic
missiles, I be comin through like the four-nine-three-eleven
tearing up the power-u, Me-Tical
A bad motherfucking buddah monk, what the fuck
hit your chest, like cardiac arrest, blow the front
out the frame, hit the pussycat for the pain
of the dog shit, nobody move run your garments
A rugged vet, terrible like a Champion sweat
Wrap a power in a tec, to wet
a nigga up, with all the dangerous diseases
Sniffling sneezing coughing aching stuffy head fever
Fucker, I think it's bout time that you suffer
Bobbin on my nob like an all day sucker
[bell rings] Bitch!
Meth Vs. Chef
(it's my turn) Meth Vs. Chef
(yo let's bring that shit baby) Meth Vs. Chef
(yo, yeah, one more time nigga) Meth Vs. Chef
(callin me out, it's goin off) I blow your fuckin ass to death
[bell rings]

[Verse Two: Raekwon the Chef]

I'm goin all out kid no turnbacks
You could try to front, get smoked and that's that
Lyric assassin, dressed in black buggin
Sixteen shots to your mug, from a slug then
I go to war in a conrete jungle, make the punt
cause niggaz act funny, and fumble
But I relax, count my shells, a lot of heads gotta fly
Niggaz stay strapped, armed to die
Time for jet-black Tim boot, flowin
Wha-Su God get him, hit em with the nine troop
No question, cha-cha-BLOW in the session
Bloodshot in that direction, cypher
[bell rings]
'Tack you like chess moves best move
Yo, yeah, yo
The boards, your ass
'Tack, 'tack, 'tack, uH! *bell rings*
'Tack 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
With some quick high Rae stay fly, and rob your Isle
Airwaves, yo behave
Now you're a slave with the boots that paved the way
[bell rings three times]
Ahh shit!

[Chef Vs. Meth Vs. Meth]
03:37 192 4,95 0.10
Sub Crazy Lyrics

We can all get by if we want now
Get a phat piece of the pie if we want
Motherfuckers gettin mad high when they want now
I will survive, recognize it be Tical

Verse One:

Word up, our niggas is strapped, ready for war on the ill block
Things just ain't peace no more, fuck it
If you ain't with me then forget me
Niggas try to stick me, retaliation, no hesitation, shifty
Creepin niggas in the dark, triggas with no heart
Rippin ass apart, I'll be swimmin with the sharks now
Stay out my water or it's manslaughter
Kid, you oughta start reachin for that nickle-plated auto-
Matic, my thoughts get sporadic, loaded raps
Bustin mad shots to ya attic
They say this hazard, this flows a hazard
Straight from Hazard County with a bounty on his head, and it said
"Wanted Dead or Alive," I swear by the whites of they eyes
To never take a dive I will survive


Verse Two:

Shit's gonna happen if niggas start actin
Like they want problems, you want em, you got em
Rap contact, is writin this exactly, the way it should be
Attacked, Killer Beeeees on a swarm
So what my martial law drops bombs like Qur'an
The ism helps to stimulate my pugilism
I bust rhymes like jizm, impregnate the rhythm with the wisdom
Decipher the flow, I be hyper, I bring all the styles
That rekindle like old flames
Saliva, check the wicked flows I deliva
Oops, I mean deliver like the Hudson River
Styles be tight, trite like a thief in the night
I be the sneaky-ass nigga bustin nuts in yo wife
Blasted, buggin off Bacardi and acid
Flippin on the mic, it's a classic
02:15 192 3,09 0.10
Release Yo' Delf Lyrics 04:15 192 5,85 0.10
P.L.O. Style Lyrics

P.L.O. style, Buddha monks with the Owls
P.L.O. style, Buddha monks with the Owls
P.L.O. style, Buddha monks with the Owls
P.L.O. style...

Verse One: Method Man

Here comes the ruckus, the motherfuckin ruckus
Thousands of cut-throats and purse-snatchin fucks
Straight from the brain, I'll be givin you the pain, anger
Comin from the 36th Chamber, Bang!
Tical, hittin with the Buddha-Fist style
Shotgun slammin in your chestpiece, plow!
Brain, is blown all over the terrain
Like a man without no arms you can't hang
Time for a change of the guard
You've been arrested for lyric fraud now you hard
For real, check it, I pull strings like B.B. King on guitar
I'm the true fist of the North Star!

Verse Two: Carlton Fisk, Method Man

Ooooooooh! What a tangled web we weave
When first we practice to decieve
Guns be clickin, runnin with my clan we be stickin
Whatever, my street family stays together
Represent what I invent, killa hill
Resident, rest in peace to my nigga Two Cent
The street life is the only life I know
I live by the code style it's mad P.L.O...

Iranian thoughts and cover like an Arabian
Grab a nigga on the spot and put a nine to his cranium

I..can't...get no satisfaction, niggas won't be lastin
Long, unless they get protaction, for real
Strong, comin with my clan so what's happenin
Commercial rap, hate it with a passion

The M-E-T-H-O-D got me drinkin O.E. all night in a M.P.V.
Just maxin, lookin for hoes, you know relaxin
Bitches know the hour it be time for some action

P.L.O., peace to that nigga Barryano
Word up, let's take him to the bridge, Verrazano

02:37 192 3,58 0.10
I Get My Thang In Action Lyrics
Niggas wanna test my stees,
Nigga please,
I black that eye like peas
You better freeze
In ya tracks
A Wu-Tang (bzzz) killer bee's on ya back
I comes for the honey plus the phat money sack
You want it all?
Yeah I want it all like THAT
I stab my own moms in the back for a stack
Niggas like damn, why you want it like that?
'Cause I'm a dog, and I got no love for the cat
Attitude's cold like the north polar cap
Where I do my (????) a little further down the map
A little black island
Called Stat
Where niggas carry gats in they Black Moon hat
Now I'm mad known for the bones and the rap
And youse an unknown with a phoney contract
Wake up and smell the method, motherfucker
Contact, fallin' in a cypher from a fallen head crack
An indian giver and I'm out to take it back
Shaolin Island, baby where you at?
A runaway train that be runnin' on ya track
That's how it's goin' down
Yeah, it's goin' down like that

I gets my thang in action
To live, to love, to see, to learn

Yo! Tell 'em what's happenin'!
(What's happening?
I'll tell ya wh-what's happening
Tell 'em what's happening
Brothers ain't got no peers and they be smokin' funny

I swing funky rap routines and tap the jaws
Betcha twenty points and ya still can't score
'Cause you ain't got no points in this game
Kid, you frontin'
A home run hitter and you be buntin'
Brush out the toilet, I got my shit together
When I'm good, I'm good,
When bad, I'm better
You want it?
I be the stormy weather
Rain coming down
To weather with ya leather
A nigga with a ax
I spark 'em like a match (ssskt)
Coming back it's the method
To get louder
The method
Man, clap yo hands, now check it
See me in the mist (????)
But my physical brother came through and got me lift
Niggas, that I walk by, give me the eye
The mormon is fuckin' me up, killing my high
Nigga get back,
Ya pussy cat,
I'm fearsome
Basically dat,
I'm all of dat,
And 'den some
While I,
Was out on tour,
Goin' beserk
I heard you
Was over at the sand box
And kickin' DIRT
All over my name
But you can't pull my file,
Comin' out 'dere like dat 'dere
(????) ghettos couldn't bear

(Meth-Tical, I told the boy everythin' he KNOW
To all you bad motherfuckers
See, I told you that kid go back to that Dolemite
Everybody needs to love Dolemite,
I love Dolemite, you love Dolemite
Hey, how you doin' nigga, I know you
Know what I did when I did?
Meth-Tical, shiiit, I told the boy--)
If ya can't get yaself a ten,
The least you can do is smoke five twos
(Where ya at? Method)
03:45 192 5,17 0.10
Mr. Sandman Lyrics
Intro: RZA (singing by Blue Raspberry)

*bees buzzing*
*man screaming in torture*

This is... (Mr. Sandman bring me a good dream)
Serious, the craziest
... d-da, (Mr. Sandman bring me a good dream) day-da
Danger, dangerous... style

Verse One: RZA

Lyrical shots from the glock
bust bullet holes on the chops, I want the number one spot
With the science, of a giant
New York defiant, brutal like domestic violence
Silence of the Lambs, o-ccured when I slammed in
Foes grab their chairs, to be mad as Ralph Cramden
Others come with shit, as silly as Art Carney
But my Tetley triplizes, more kids than Barney
Never need for stress there's three bags of sess
a damn I rest, playing chess, yes
My thoughts be sneaky like a crook from Brooklyn
When you ain't lookin, I take the queen, with the rook then
I get vexed, layin phat trax on Ampex
Morphous God, gettin drunk, off a Triple X
Violent time, I got more love than valentines
The violent mind, I blast with a silent nine

Verse Two: Inspector Deck

My hazardous thoughts to cut the mic's life support short
Brains get stained like tablecloths when I let off
Powerful, poetry pushed past the point of no return
Leavin mics with third-degree burns
Let me at 'em, I cramp your style like a spasm
Track em through the mud then I bag em
We're screaming hardcore, hip-hop drips out my balls
and I be raw, for four score plus seven more
I strike like a bowling ball, holding y'all hostage
like hail, electrifying the third rail
Peep the smash on paragraphs of ruckus
Wu-Tang (Clan ain't nuttin ta fuck wit)

Verse Three: Method Man

Hot time, summer in the city
My people represent, get busy
The heat-seeker, on a mission from hell's kitchen
I gets in where I fits in for head-touchin, listen
Enemy, is the industry got me flippin
I don't give a fuck tell that bitch and a nigga
I'm killin, snipin, catchin murder cases
Desert Storm-in, I be searchin for oasis
As I run a mile with a racist
Pullin, swords, hit the Billboard with a bullet
Peace to the number seven
Everybody else get the fo'-nine-three-eleven
(Mr. Sandman bring me a good dream)
I don't know what's going on
if you can take us there...

Verse Four: Street Thug

Yo, watch me bang the headpiece there's no survival
My flow lights up the block like a homicidal
murder, underground beef for the burger
P.L.O., criminal thoughts you never heard of
I switch, the city never sleeps, life's a bitch
I shit, runnin through bitches like Emmitt Smith
Caution, niggaz best to be careful crossin
the street, before they end up layin in a coffin
Don't sleep, niggaz tend to forget, however
Peep this -- my nigga Case lives forever

Verse Five: Carlton Fisk

What evil lurks in the heart of men?
It be the shadow, street-life, flowin again
I had a plot, scheme, I knew for sure
Only one kid would knock the hinges off the door
The jerk tried to jet, Sabrina at his neck
Thirteen pounds on the table plus a tec
Just when I said, "Where the fuck's the cream?"
Another jerk came out the kitchen with the M-16
He tried to cock it, blast these shots like, rockets
Crushed his collarbone, ripped his arm out the socket
My move for the table was swift, I got my hostage
(The nigga tried to stab you God!) but I dodged it
Niggaz said, "Carlton youse a ill motherfucker"
Cause I made it look like they both killed each other
And I'm out

(Mr. Sandman bring me a good dream)
(Mr. Sandman bring me a good dream)
03:37 192 4,99 0.10
Stimulation Lyrics 03:46 192 5,18 0.10
Method Man (Remix) Lyrics 03:18 192 4,53 0.10
I'll Be There For You Lyrics 05:09 192 7,05 0.10