Well All Rite Cha

By Redman

On Doc’s Da Name 2000

Released on December 8, 1998

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[Intro: Method Man]

Hydro... indo... (buddha!)

Hah... cocoa... yo, ya-ya-yo!

I need some brown weed (Lady) all day

I need some brown weed (Jenny)

I need some cut (Lady, lady)


[Verse 1: Method Man]

Now these doors don't open, 'til after dark

And it ain't 'til 12 that the party really starts

(Yo, me and my crew had to be in by 10

Right before the fun was about to begin)

Yo yo, once bitten, jabberjaws

Tryin' to taste the paper written, kids be bullshittin', I see they flaws

Too many rebels, not enough cause for me to pause

Them broads love my shitty drawers, the finest

Criminal minded, put my life behind it, you niggas find it

Hard to swallow, poison in the bottle

She too sexy, so I gotta watch you fast bitches

Too many tricks that can give a dick a bad sickness {*coughing*}


[Verse 2: Redman]

Yo, yo! Yo, son, excuse me?

(Yo) I'm tryin to earn a million buck or two

The ill MC step in – (And who the fuck are you?)

Doc start walkin', bumpin' M.O.P

To catch a nigga gettin' gassed, puttin' 10 on 3

(Da ruckus!) With the mic, I blast men on sight

So off the hook, Atlantic Bell had to go on strike

Doc did it, metaphors come AMG kitted

20/20 vision, comes tinted!

From being so high... (So high...)

So high... so high...


[Verse 3: Method Man]

Air it out – Iron Lung

I be the street soldier, ante up

Pull them panties up, party's over, in the cut

Slappin' grudges off a nigga's shoulder, bringin' ruck'

Like them Wild-cats at Villanova, hot as fuck!

Duke or sober, swallow Ebola, soul controller

Of the universe, stole-a, colder than polar

Caps; grab your hoodie hat, Island of Stat'

Keep them cats runnin for they gat, in stormy weather


[Verse 4: Redman]

Gats, right hook, uppercut, swollen how I left your eye

Stage dived, made a mistake, kicked F.O.I. 

Aiyyo, ho! Doc be keepin a dope show like Marilyn

Manson, the handgun be stashed in the paneling

Jersey drop son, watch me whip it like midget

Diggin' in that whole plate and – piss on your picnic

(Don't nobody move) Don't nobody start flinchin'

Limo driver, roll up the fuckin' partition!

[Hook: Method Man & Redman]

Who them niggas that be rollin' them Thai, high as a kite?

Gettin' pussy all nite (Well all rite cha) yeah, yeah

Well, who them cats you can call on when you wanna brawl?

(Get drunk as hell) and so on (Well all rite cha) yo, yo

Is Funk Doc up in the house? (Well all rite cha) yo, yo

Hot Nix up in the house? (Well all rite cha)

Bricks to Stat' hold it down (well all rite cha) yo, yo

Mad dick up in your mouth (Hah, all night cha)


[Verse 5: Redman]

Yo, Tical's and Doc, did it before, I'll do it again

Snatch spark to the ignition, I'm screwin' it in

(Aiyyo, we out!) Six drop in 10 seconds, what?

I'll be the first one on the floor at your wedding reception

B-Boys gather around and act P-noid

Bring the Trouble T-Roy, 'til your earlobes keloid

(Terminator 2) Doc after Sarah Conn'

For the barrel bonds (Am I on?) Tical, you're on!

Uhh-uhh-on, uhh-uhh-on

Uh uh-uh uh-uh, uh-uh-on


[Verse 6: Method Man]

Got these Slim Pickins on my Charles Dickens, I pack a MAC

To make your back stiffen; flip the script, I act different

The oddball, keep your distance, warning y'all, you don't listen

Bitchin' over shit you ain't gettin'

So finally, puttin' in work, the big hurt

MC, with a social disease, and get it first

Enemies, feel my energies, four centuries of anger

Remember me? (The field nigga!)

Too ghetto fabulous, RZA Sharp and hazardous figure

With bad habit, can't hold his liquor

Speed like a millipede (Hot Nix-on)

Contemplate the non-fiction on loose leafs

Paragraphs, hundred degrees, my pen bleed (Ha!)

Showin' you the pain I feel from holdin' these

Black thoughts, deep rooted, nowadays

They come with batteries included, in wicked ways

[Hook: Method Man & Redman]

Who them niggas that be rollin' them Thai, high as a kite?

Gettin' pussy all nite (Well all rite cha) yeah, yeah

Well, who them cats you can call on, when you wanna brawl?

(Get drunk as hell) and so on (Well all rite cha) yo, yo

Is Funk Diggy in the house? (Well all rite cha) yo, yo

Meth Diggy, no doubt! (Well all rite cha)

Bricks to Stat' hold it down (Well all rite cha) yo, yo

Mad dick up in your mouth (All nite cha)

Cha, cha, cha, cha, cha, cha, cha, cha...

S.I.N.Y., 10304

{*fades in and out before end*}