Luyện nghe bài hát Who Ya Rollin Wit

Uh what's really
Yo, yo, yo

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

You you know, but you have no idea
The Diary of a Meth Man, this I hear?
Somebody y'all, steppin' in shit was good luck?
I got the hood stuck, now the goods up

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

Come on, each one, teach one, hear no evil and I don't speak
Everything cool that heat come
Just my name, and I'll be there
Y'all kids is slum, like the jewelry in Albi

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

Method spits
(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 like foreclosures
Talk sober, until some dog gets forced
New York soldiers, be at ease, fall
Never ever, I'm the New Era, like ball

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

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

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

We drinkin' Henny 'til we flip, poppin' bottles we sick
All haters 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
The on
My on

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

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

Aight, live from New York, Saturday night
I got pipes drain your 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, makes you think I'm playin' with you?
This is it, better come on in, the water's fine
Jump on in, do it to 'em one more 'gain

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

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

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

We drinkin' Henny 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
Tell me who ya wit?

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

Method fire
The on
My on

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

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