Meth Vs Chef Lyrics by Method Man

Meth Vs Chef Lyrics

    Intro:

    Duel, worthy of a general
    If you want to fight, fight with me!
    One to one! Man to man!

    Get ready to gel team!
    Live and direct from the one-six-ooh
    We got Tical, pow! Raekwon the Chef, Tical!
    It's about to go on, Tical!
    You make the call, I make the call!
    It's all for all
    Method Man, Raekwon the Chef
    (count my shells)
    And there's about to be one left
    (count my shells, nigga)
    I know you know it'son kid
    (Bring that shit I don't give a fuck!)
    *bell rings*

    Verse One: Method Man

    Who lit that shit it was I the chinky-eye
    Cheeba-hawk from New York, Tical Staten Isle
    niggaz thought, that they could walk a dog but they caught
    a bad situation, cause I'm a sandwich short
    of a picnic, cause you ain't equipped with the sickening
    style, blowing up the spot like ballistic
    missiles, I be comin through like the four-nine-three-eleven
    tearing up the power-u, Me-Tical
    A bad motherfucking buddah monk, what the fuck
    hit your chest, like cardiac arrest, blow the front
    out the frame, hit the pussycat for the pain
    of the dog shit, nobody move run your garments
    A rugged vet, terrible like a Champion sweat
    Wrap a power in a tec, to wet
    a nigga up, with all the dangerous diseases
    Sniffling sneezing coughing aching stuffy head fever
    Fucker, I think it's bout time that you suffer
    Bobbin on my nob like an all day sucker
    *bell rings* Bitch!
    Meth Vs. Chef
    (it's my turn) Meth Vs. Chef
    (yo let's bring that shit baby) Meth Vs. Chef
    (yo, yeah, one more time nigga) Meth Vs. Chef
    (callin me out, it's goin off) I blow your fuckin ass to death
    *bell rings*

    Verse Two: Raekwon the Chef

    I'm goin all out kid no turnbacks
    You could try to front, get smoked and that's that
    Lyric assassin, dressed in black buggin
    Sixteen shots to your mug, from a slug then
    I go to war in a conrete jungle, make the punt
    cause niggaz act funny, and fumble
    But I relax, count my shells, a lot of heads gotta fly
    Niggaz stay strapped, armed to die
    Time for jet-black Tim boot, flowin
    Wha-Su God get him, hit em with the nine troop
    No question, cha-cha-BLOW in the session
    Bloodshot in that direction, cypher
    *bell rings*
    'Tack you like chess moves best move
    Yo, yeah, yo
    The boards, your ass
    'Tack, 'tack, 'tack, uH! *bell rings*
    'Tack the boards like chess moves best move
    at Rae through, comin at your motherfuckin crew
    Live direct, yeah you better step
    Gunshots ring on the set, let's jet
    Motivate, to the gate
    With some quick high Rae stay fly, and rob your Isle
    Airwaves, yo behave
    Now you're a slave with the boots that paved the way
    *bell rings three times*
    Ahh shit!

    Chef Vs. Meth Vs. Meth

SEARCH LYRICS