[Intro: Method Man]

Uh, yeah

Uh, yeah

Yeah, get 'em

[Verse 1: Method Man]

Iron Lung, iron skin, Pretty Toney, we Iron Men

Cream, chocolate deluxe, loaded up in the lion's den

If I ain't him, they lyin' then, need a shape-up, I'm linin' them

Lie again, and him wound up in a casket he lyin' in

Alrighty then, try me, see they ain't winnin' but I ain't them

Ain't in my friends or in any conversation that I am in

I'm dope, heads be noddin' like dope, there's no denyin' if

My block sell dope, I'm a product of my environment

The work I'm supplyin', y'all just workers providin' 'em

Drumwork for headshots like early retirement

I earn my title through lack of early entitlement

'Til I was titled rich, I ain't even know what entitled meant

That's wordplay, find my best words on my worst day

My urge say, put 'em back in the box, happy dirt day

I heard Mane, Man, and Machine, cons with the cream

Load 'em things and do 'em dirty until my conscience is clean

Woo, like RJ PAYNE, what are y'all sayin'?

Not sure, but all this spit will put out all y'all flames

I'm sure, like life insurance, put out all y'all claims

Then I'm back to my bucket list and scratch out all y'all names

M-E-T-H-O-D, oh yes, O.G. 

Killa Beez, we got it buzzin', y'all some S.O.B.'s

Time's up, like O.C., I keep it light lowkey

I ain't come here to be polite, just keep them lights on me

Haha

[Chorus: SK da King]

Bitch, it's a stick-up

I want the jewelry, I want your wallet, give them chips up

Get on the floor, hand on the four, nobody get up (Nobody move)

Keep it cool, don't make a move, keep ya lips hush

Won't be no hiccups

Trap money before the deal, bitch, we been up (Been up)

Goons right behind me and they blicked up (Blicked up)

Nigga, keep fucking around like you can't get touched

We comin' sticks up, it's gon' be a stick-up

[Verse 2: Flee Lord]

National Geographic, I'm passionate with the ratchet (Boom boom!)

Coke game was a classic, I taxed it but then I passed it (Sniff)

My yay was that butter, yo, akh, we never stutter (Uh uh)

Three D's on the roof, they used to watch me every summer

Shaolin and Buff', lotta brown in the cup

It's an army that surround me, outta town in them trucks (Skrrr!)

Lotta rounds in the cut (Boom boom!), jot it down if it's tough

Heater melt all the snow 'til you drown in the slush

Two scales on the counter, new sales all around us (Uh-huh)

Stay flyer than a drone, so the Feds wanna drown us

Mask on, fillin' up the duffel 'til the cash gone

Loadin' up my (Brrr) while my lady put her lash on

We the Empire State, big stick by the safe

Team's sick by the way, you get clipped by the 'K

Meditate and smokin', I be talking to P (R.I.P.)

Spittin' "Survival of the Fittest" while I walk down these streets

[Chorus: SK da King]

Bitch, it's a stick-up

I want the jewelry, I want your wallet, give them chips up

Get on the floor, hand on the four, nobody get up (Nobody move)

Keep it cool, don't make a move, keep ya lips hush

Won't be no hiccups

Trap money before the deal, bitch, we been up (Been up)

Goons right behind me and they blicked up (Blicked up)

Nigga, keep fucking around like you can't get touched

We comin' sticks up, it's gon' be a stick-up

[Verse 3: SK da King]

Okay, it's Drumwork, and the drum work, and the gun work

So it's him or me, whatever come first (Right)

I done worse, been chosen from birth

Just think of phone sex, they couldn't come close, catch a sun stroke

Oh, you got heart? I'll blow it out, followed by blunt smoke

It's on, I'm up first, watch 'em every step like a upskirt

Like my trust broke, snatch his kid, how much your son worth?

They still ain't found him after a month search, it's too much dirt

They let it go, too much work

His fam can't keep going, it's too much hurt (Ah)

He saw the shots fly up close, he got the floor view (Woo)

Shoutout to King James, I just upped the score too (Hahaha)

That MAC got kick like a horseshoe, he gon' need a horseshoe

It's World War II if you push me, bet won't nobody pull through

This life we in that we was born to, we was forced to (Right)

But whether you die, it's your choice to

Get down or lay down, it's on you

It's awful how I off that boy and act cordial like it's normal

Like that nigga mortal, middle fingers to the courtroom

Motherfucker

[Verse 4: Conway the Machine]

Yeah (Brrr)

Real dope boy shit, used to throw money in Strokers (Huh?)

Moved out the hood, still get my grass cut by a smoker (Facts)

My brodie in the Feds got an iPhone and a poker (Uh huh)

Pack shoppin' in Denver, plug give me good numbers like Joker (Yeah)

It's nothin' to throw a 500 pound order at you

I fuck with the grower (I know the grower, nigga)

A nigga even look wrong, brodie uppin' his blower

I can meet a bitch tonight, but after I fuck, I don't know her (Haa)

Shootin' out the back of a i7, crime legend (Uh-huh)

I'm tryna stack this money tall as a nigga that's standin' 5'7"

Niggas ain't stoppin' or blockin' my blessings

Told that hoe, she lucky to even be here in my presence (Hahaha)

She took a PJ before but not the jumbo (Nah)

Used to get a block, and sell a four away for the Mutombo

My vision is tunnel (Talk to 'em)

My kicks is twenty-two hundo

I spin through the jungle

If you can sell it then I can front you (I can front that)

You can give me any drug, we sell a lot of it (Talk)

The rumor is we was fuckin' with boy, no Bambaataa shit (Hahaha)

In Venice, Italy, penne Arrabbiata dish (We eatin')

We ballin' up gas, we on a water taxi (Woo)

Drumwork