[Produced by DJ Premier]
DJ Premier
Uh, uh, uh
[Verse 1: Fred Durst & Method Man]
Who could be the boss? Look up to the cross
Stranded in the land of the lost
Standin' up, I'm sideways
I'm blazin' up the path, runnin' on the highways of rap
Choked up by the smoke and the charcoal
A lotta stamps and brands, we like a bar code
I'm bashin' all the media strikes to keep the media dykes
As reinforcement for the fight
And that alone'll keep John Gotti on the phone
I'm tangled in the zone, I got the bees on the track
Where the fuck you at? (Tical!)
Let me hear you pigeons run ya mouth now (Shut the fuck up!)
I'm pluggin' in them social skills that keep my total bills
Over a million the last time I checked it
Thank God, I'm blessed with a mind that'll wreck it
Wait until the second round and knock 'em out
[Verse 2: Method Man]
They call me Big John Studd, my middle name Mud
Dirty water flow, too much for you, thug
They can't stand the flood β what up, doc?
Hold big gun like Elmer Fudd, the sureshot
Mr. Meth, I'm unplugged (Learn!)
Temperatures too hot for sunblock (Burn!)
Playin' wit' mine's? That get you state time
Locked behind 12 bars from a great mind
Killa Bees in the club wit' his ladybug
Brought a sword to the dance floor to cut a rug
Love is love all day, 'til they throw slugs
And take another life in cold blood, can't feel me 'til its your blood
Murder rates tremendous, crime is endless
Same shit, different day; Father forgive us β
They know not what they do, all praise is due
I'm big like E-Z and Big Bambu
[Chorus: Method Man]
What's that? I didn't hear you (Shut the fuck up!)
Come on, a little louder! (Shut the fuck up!)
Everybody in together now (Shut the fuck up!)
What, huh? (Just shut the fuck up, just shut the fuck up!)
What's that? I didn't hear you (Shut the fuck up!)
Come on, a little louder! (Shut the fuck up!)
Everybody in together now (Shut the fuck up!)
What, huh? (Just shut the fuck up, just shut the fuck up!)
[Verse 3: Method Man with Fred Durst]
Headstrong, dead calm, Dead by Dawn
Dead weight, they dead wrong, let's get it on
Twelve rounds of throw-down β who hold crown?
Protect land wit' four pound, Limp Bizkit
Get around like merry-go, bust a scenario
Comin' through your stereo, why risk it?
Lifestyles of the prolific and gifted
Eight essential vitamins and minerals, delicious
Word on the street is, they bit my thesis
Knocked out they front teefs'es, tryin' to taste mine
Actin' like they "Heard it Through the Grapevine"
Dope fiendin' for the bassline, to provide rhyme
Pharmaceuticals, hard as nails to the cuticles
Where'd you find that monster? She beautiful
Wu-Tang and Limp Bizkit, roll on the set
Kick a hole in the speaker, pull the plug, and then jet
[Verse 4: Fred Durst & Method Man]
Mic check, so what's it all about? And where we gonna run?
Maybe we can meet up on the sun
Discretion is advised for the blood of virgin eyes
We limpin' on the track with the Method
So get the sunblock, you gettin' one-shot
Until you dissolve, I revolve around everything you got
From outta nowhere, prepare, you be blinded by the glare
I told you not to stare, now you're turned into stone
Without a microphone
But don't you forget you're in a zone, so shut the fuck up
And take that shit back 'cause all your shit's wack
Doo-doo is doo-doo when its weighed out like that
Burnin' up your brain like a piston
So all those that didn't listen never even knew what they were missin'
And never even knew that the sky was fallin' down
Wu-Tang-Clan for the crown
[Chorus: Method Man]
What's that? I didn't hear you (Shut the fuck up!)
Come on, a little louder! (Shut the fuck up!)
Everybody in together now (Shut the fuck up!)
What, huh? (Just shut the fuck up, just shut the fuck up!)
What's that? I didn't hear you (Shut the fuck up!)
Come on, a little louder! (Shut the fuck up!)
Everybody in together now (Shut the fuck up!)
What, huh? (Just shut the fuck up, just shut the fuck up!)
[Outro: Method Man]
It was over your head all day, every day
S.I., N.Y. 10304, Wu-Tang Killa Bees and the Limp B-I-Z-K-I-T
Y'all know the time, y'all know the rhyme
It ain't easy bein' greazy in a world full of cleanliness andβ
You know, all that other madness, we gone, peace!
Limp Bizkit, Method Man, rock the house, y'all, bring it on!
[Hidden Track]
Hey wait up, where you guys goin'?
You're not recordin', are you?
Are you?
But I'm all alone
I can't do this!
Feel it, uh
Feel it, feel it, feel it
You guys feel it out there?
Shake your head if you feel it
Hey, hey, hey
Every day is brighter than the next day
At least that's what you think
Every day is brighter than the next day
At least that's what you think