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Les paroles de Bring The Pain
| | | Artiste: | Method Man |
| | Album: | Miscellaneous | | Titre: | Bring The Pain | | | | Date d'ajout: | 18/10/2007 | | Vues: | 43 fois | | | | Paroles: | Basically, can't fuck with me
[Verse One:]
I came to bring the pain hardcore
from the brain
Let's go inside my astral plane
Find out my mental's based on
instrumental
records hey, so I can write monumental
Methods, I'm not the King
But
niggaz is decaf I stick em for the CREAM
check it, just how deep can shit get
Deep as the
abyss and brothers is mad fish accept it
In your Cross Colour, clothes you've crossed over
Then got Totally Krossed Out and Kris Kross
Who da boss? Niggaz get tossed to the side
And
I'm the dark side of the Force
Of course it's the Method, Man from the Wu-Tang Clan
I be
hectic, and comin for the head piece protect it
Fuck it, two tears in a bucket, niggaz want the
ruckus
Bustin at me bruh, now bust it
Styles, I gets buckwild
Method Man on some
shit, pullin niggaz files
I'm sick, insane, crazy, Drivin Miss Daisy
Out her fuckin mind
now I got mine I'm Swayze
[Chorus:]
Is it real son, is it really real son
Let me know it's real son, if it's really real
Something I could feel son, load it up and kill
one
Want it raw deal son, if it's really real
[Interlude: Booster]
And
when I was a lil stereo (stereo)
I listened to some champion (champion)
I always wondered
(wondered)
Will now I be the numba one? (Tical! hahaha)
Now you listen to de gargon
(Gargon!)
And de gargon summary
And any man dat come test me (test me)
Me gwanna lick
out dem brains (it's like that)
[Verse Two:]
Brothers want to hang with the
Meth bring the rope
the only way you hang is by the neck nigga poke
off the set comin to
your projects
Take it as a threat, better yet it's a promise
Comin from a vet on some old
Vietnam shit
Nigga you can bet your bottom dollar hey I bomb shit
And it's gonna get even
worse word to God
It's the Wu comin through sickin niggaz for they garments
Movin on your
left, southpaw em it's the Meth
Came to represent and carve my name in your chest
You can
come test realize you're no contest
Son I'm the gun that won that old Wild West
Quick on
the draw with my hands on the four
nine three eleven with the rugged rhymes galore
Check
it cause I think not when this hip-hops like proper
Rhymes be the proof while I'm drinkin 90
proof
Huh vodka, no OJ, no straw
When you give it to me aiy, give it to me raw
I've
learned when you drink Absolut straight it burns
Enough to give my chest hairs a perm
I
don't need a chemical blow to pull a hoe
All I need is Chemical Bank to pay da mo'
What, basically that, Meth-Tical, ninety-four style
Word up we be hazardous *car crashing*
*horn passing me*
Northern spicy brown mustard hoes
We have to stick you
[horn sound
of car racing by]
[Chorus]
[Outro:]
I'll fuckin, I'll fuckin cut
your kneecaps off
and make you kneel in some staircase piss
I'll fuckin, cut your
eyelids off
and feed you nuthin but sleepin pills
You motherfuckers
(So??) So
fuck the hoe
Fuck the hoe
(Look at this nigga, this motherfuckin...) | | | |
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Les paroles de l'artiste: Method Man
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