Y.O.U. (Album Version)

Y.O.U. (Album Version)

Method Man

[Meth]
Traces of lipstick on my collar
Baby, you got to do some more to get this last dollar
Hotter than lava when you come believe that I'm a follow
Lady Madonna like the dick, but she don't like to swallow
Rockin' that product, honey, stay up in the beauty-polla'
Girl, it would be my honour
Make you my baby-mama
Holler, she hella proper
Fuck with tha dumbin' cousin
Sucka for lovin', buggin'
Shockin' them, duckin', buckin'
Suckin' then finga-fuckin'
Then let me show you somethin'
I'll knock that stuffin' off that English muffin
Can't tell me nuthin', uhn uhn
Pushin' yo' panic button in when I'm stuckin'
All of a sudden, baby gun-duckin', BBC!
Oh, girl, you nasty

[Redman]
Yo', I get it on poppin'
Doc, unlockin' yo' doors, clockin' my drawers
Suckin' your mouth with a torn stockin'
Rapped around ya noggin'
I'm creepin' when you parkin'
Shoot out the lights, darkening the area, then hop in
Pick up my bigga nigga, who helped me figured the plottin'
Droppin' the tops, splittin' the dough
Shoppin' in rotten New York, first flockin'
Because I'm heavy like Bo stockin' coat
Watch ya coat from Fo sparkin'
They leave the parking
Niggaz unforgetable can be forgotten
Doc and Meth album enterin' the top ten!
Choppin' it raw, lockin' 'n blockin'
Only raw choppin' his metaphors, so cops can stop watchin'
I put 'em in and cock 'em
Ready to rock 'em, stock 'em
Renevate your apartment when these two things barkin'
My Mackamichi, knockin'
Bougie holes be spottin' on they tampons
I get 'em dripple like leaky faucets

[Chorus]
Now who a bitch nigga?
(Now who a snitch nigga?)
Now who the shit nigga?
(Now who the sick nigga?)
Now who you with, nigga?
(With who you with, nigga?)
Who rock shit, nigga?
(Who pop shit, nigga?)

(Come on!) Come on! (Come on!) Come on!
(Come on!) Come on! (Come on!) Come on!
(Come on!) Come on! (Come on!) Come on!
(Come on!) Come on! (Come on!) Come on!

[Redman]
I figured it out
Y'all niggaz ain't as big as yo' mouth
My street value, well, it ain't won't even fit in yo' couch
When I bust, titties come out
No matter what city hardcore committee's dumb to fuck out
Sons, ya duck out!
Nuthin' to lose
Poppin' a two up in ya goose
Buckle yo' shoes; scuff on my boots, fuckin' with you
Blow my anaconda like Nirvana
Marijuana got bitches on they knees
And they gon' bind us
Gettin' 'em dirty, dirty, with the hersey and the bombin'
Holla the drama
Fire two in ya armor
Ya pigeon betta call ma
The ice is a honour
To in help me lift an arm up
Lebaba with ya momma
Even dirty her donna
My dick is heronomic
Pull out a young Geronimo, BBC!
Oh, girl, you nasty

[Meth]
Itchin' to start the mission
Flippin', so keep yo' distance
Ain't got no pot to piss in?
Ain't got no competition
Listen, I slip the clippin'
Trippin', you get me lippin'
Come, miss, and catch a whippin'
Now kids is actin' different
Ditchin' them double-dippin'
Chickens that keep forgettin'
I ain't the one for trickin'
Or anybody-kickin'
Rippin' these compositions
Scrippin' them paper-written
Hold 'em and hit 'n stickin'
Ballin' like Scottie Pippen
It's hot in Hell's Kitchen
But, still, I'm frost bittin'
Shittin' like 'No he didn't'
Wipin' my ass and splittin'
Chattin' like Joe gettin'
All in the zone, settin' it off like Big Daddy
It ain't no half-steppin'
I keep rappin'
Staten you keep sweatin', frontin', and ass-bettin'
Duckin' my Smith and Wesson
Trashin' the Meth and catchin'
Hell, we leave you restin' in peace, BBC!
Oh, girl, you nasty

[Chorus]

Written by CARNES, KIM / MATKOSKY, DENNIS / DAVIS, HUNTER
Published by Warner/Chappell Music, Inc., Royalty Network, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Universal Music Publishing Group, EMI Music Publishing

Lyrics Provided By LyricFind Inc.

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