Say What (Album Version|Explicit)-Method Man/Missy Elliott

f/ Missy Elliott, P. Diddy [Intro: Missy Elliott (Method Man)] Yeah! This-this-this-this This is an exclusive (let's go) Mr. Meth, you're so Def, you put them other M.C.'s out to rest (that's right) And they test (uh-huh), but they forget (yeah) how the M-E-F is so Def (let's go) [Method Man] Yo, uh, come on, come on, now Big Meth attack soon as the track come on now Zone out, with Sean Combs and bizzy-bone out (I see you in the club) And by one, I'm gettin' thrown out Mami, got her toes out, ain't one army can Blaze Johnny Like Gwen Stafani, you know there's No Doubt I'm trill, sick with it, it's like ill That's the only way to explain these mic skills On Homicide Hill, anybody asks is real The more steel, the more bodybags to fill Can I get, hit of that hydro, ni**a I tried to quit puffin' before, but I'm no quitter If honey show me her buns, I'll show her my ones If the bed rockin', keep knockin' and I'mma cum Want some, take some, I get it crunk Speak junk, I'll slow up your road with speed bumps [Chorus: Missy Elliott w/ P. Diddy doing ad-libs] When they play this in the club (say what?) Go and tell that ni**a, bump that (say what?) Throw your hands up, like ni**a, what? (say what?) Ya'll don't really really want that (say what?) And for whatever muthaf**ka, don't like it (say what?) Tell that sucka he can get back (say what?) Misdemeanor and Meth in your area (say what?) Are ya'll ready? Come on, play it back (saw what?) [Method Man] You wanna front, what? Step up and get bucked And if your feelin' lucky, duck, then press ya'll luck Ya'll got me effed up, over tracks overreact Once I start, like a bullet, ain't no holdin' me back I'm all that and two mac's, ya'll fakin' jacks When I cock back like Busta Bust and make 'em clap Here I go again, who blow in like whirlwinds Who kiss girlfriends, that kiss they girlfriends Got to get it, and when I'm gone Ya'll bury me with chrome, and tell hell I'm comin' home I'm poison, see my skull and crossbones Got aim like them kids in Iraq who toss stones And I got drugs in my system, we thugs in the system That put slugs in victims, Mr. M-E to F, bomb threat As long as I ain't no game, there's no contest [Chorus] [Method Man] Ticallion is phatter than your fattest chrome chain I guess that should explain why I given the d**e name Ain't nothin' free, everything got a fee How the f**k you got a car and ain't got a pot to pee? I'ma grown man, so I do grown man things Why take half, when I can have this whole damn thing? It's Meth, baby, drop top, navy Mercedes I'm number one like P.E. or Tracy McGrady It's all good, everything I spit, all hood And if ya'll gave me one wish, niggaz, I wish ya'll would Who John Blaze? Uh, when ya'll gon' learn huh When I burn son, stick a fork in him he's done And ladies love to play, like Ladies Love Cool J For the right CREAM, the'll do anything you say She Ice Cream, I'm caked up with icing Mr. Sandman, come on, bring her a pipe dream [Chorus] [Outro: P. Diddy] Let's work... come on Def Jam! Mr. Meth, Missy, Bad Boy Hitmen baby, let's work, come on Let's work, come on, yeah Uh, let's work... aiyo pass that ni**a Joe Hooker, I see you, let's work, yeah