Luyện nghe bài hát Who Ya Rollin Wit

Uh what's good?
Yo, yo, yo

It's the unstoppable, come any obstacle
Y'all know my flavor, more punch than Tropical
Any mission possible, do what I to do
Labels gettin' butterfingers, and next droppin' you

You think you know, but you have no
The Diary of a Man, what's this I hear?
Somebody told y'all, steppin' in was good luck?
I got the stuck, now give the goods up

Y'all done pushed up, the point of no return
It's Meth's turn, so roll that shit up and let's
I heard Philly got the best 'scherm, out in Cali, they got the best
Now that we know, when the rest learn?

Come on, each one, teach one, hear no and I don't speak none
Everything cool until that come
Just call my name, and be there
Y'all kids is slum, like the jewelry in Albi

We drinkin' Henny 'til we flip, poppin' 'til we sick
All y'all eat a dick
throw a party in this bitch, all my niggaz and my chicks
Tell me who ya rollin'

spits fire
(Fire)
The on
(Fire)
My on
(Fire)

spits fire
(Fire)
The on
(Fire)
My on
(Fire)

M E T H O D

Man, I'm in the house foreclosures
Talk sober, until some dog gets forced
New York soldiers, be at ease, fall
Never ever, I'm the New Era, like caps

Kid, whenever, whoever, whatever, want it
can have it, the problem and answer, I'm all that
While we at it, let's tighten up our around that cabbage
rabbit, how many kid's done tricked you on your carrots

The product of a bad package, Bishop Don Juan it's Magic
How I break 'em like a bad habit, hit tracks like it's target
Then let these darts a stab at it, niggaz ain't got it, ain't never had it

I jam LA traffic, Jellyroll behind the wheel
And the passenger seat the field
your boy, physically fit, mentally sick
Get dirty money, you honey, I'm filthy rich

We drinkin' 'til we flip, poppin' bottles 'til we sick
All y'all haters eat a
Let's throw a in this bitch, all my niggaz and my chicks
me who ya rollin' wit?

Method spits
(Fire)
The on
(Fire)
My on
(Fire)

Method
The on
My on

Six minutes, Method Man, on
If you thinkin' you slip and be alright, you're wrong
You can see me lightin' the bong, writin' the songs
That the crowd, is singin' to or fightin' along, fightin' along

I'm tryin' you drugs is not your friends
And girlfriend, don't try and front like you got friend
I'm at the hotel, motel, Inn
And my a man-eater, she be swallowin' men

Aight, live from New York, it's Saturday
I got pipes that drain confidence, and battery light
Aight, tight, but she ain't really my type
If y'all don't see me treat her right, she ain't really my wife

When I was young, I was stayin' in school, obeyin'
Play with my food, what makes you think I'm playin' with
This is it, y'all come on in, the water's fine
Jump on in, let's do it to 'em one more

We drinkin' Henny we flip, poppin' bottles 'til we sick
All y'all eat a dick
throw a party in this bitch, all my niggaz and my chicks
Tell me who ya wit?

Method fire
(Fire)
The on
(Fire)
My on
(Fire)

Method spits
(Fire)
The on
(Fire)
My on
(Fire)

We drinkin' Henny we flip, poppin' bottles 'til we sick
All y'all eat a dick
Let's throw a party in bitch, all my niggaz and my chicks
Tell me who ya wit?

Method fire
(Fire)
The on
(Fire)
My on
(Fire)

Method spits
The on
My on

Yeah, Love Big John Studd
No doubt, up in your mouth
We do shit everyday, I'm in the cut
With my main shit stain, Ray-Ray Gutter

And we holdin' it for the whole Staten Island, man
else but Staten Island, man
Y'all stand up, man, Stapleton, the Wild West, Park
Port Richmond, Now Born, Jungle Nilz, hah