Method Man - I Get My Thang In Action Lyrics

Lyrics I Get My Thang In Action - Method Man



Good... Wu-Tang martial expert
There′s not many, who can match up with him
He'll give you a heart condition if ya fuck around like that there
Tell you it ain′t no good for the bloodstream
You know god damn whatever and uhhh
It's dumb and big - it's DUMB and BIG
Mira, Meth-Tical coming through with the suu
Check it out
Niggaz wanna test my steez, nigga please
I black that eye like peas, you better freeze
In your track, a Wu-Tang (bzzz) killa bee′s on yo back
I comes for the honey plus the phat money sack
You want it all? Yeah I want it all like that
I stab my own moms in the back for a sack
Niggaz like "DAMN, why you want it like that?"
Cuz I′ma dog, and I got no love for the cat
Attitude is cold like the North Polar cap
Where I do my dirt is a little further down the map
A little buckwylin, island called Stat
Where niggaz carry gats in there black wolly hats
Now I'm mad known for the bones and the rap
And youse an unknown with a faulty contract
Wake up and smell the Met-chod motherfukker, contact
Villain in the cypher from the foe when head crack
An Indian giver and I′m out to take it back
Shoalin Island, baby where you at?
A runaway train that be running on ya track
That's how it′s going down, yeah, it's going down like that
I gets my thang in action
To live, to love, to see, to learn
Yo! Tell ′em what's happening
What's happening?
I′ll tell yo ass what′s happening
Tell 'em what′s happening
It's going on out here, brothaz ain′t got no peers
And they be smokin, shuddup yo damn mouth!
I swing funky rap routines and tap the jaws
Spot ya twenty points and you still can't score, nuttin′
Cuz you ain't got no points in this game, kid you frontin'
I′m home run hittin′, you be buntin'
Fresh out the toilet, I got my shit together
When I′m good, I'm good, when bad, I′m better
You want it, whatever, I be the stormy weather
Rain coming down, so weatherproof your leather
Jacket, a nigga with an axe couldn't hack it
I spark ′em like a match
Coming back, it's the Met-chod, say it loud
I'm the Met-chod Man, clap yo hands, now check it
See me in the mix, rolling fat, bustin flicks
While my physical brotha came through and got me lift
Niggaz, that I walk by, give me the eye
The moment is fucking me up, killing my high
Nigga get back, ya pussy cat, I′m fearsome
Basically that, I′m all of that, and then some
While I... was out on tour, going beserk
I heard you were at the sand-box and kicking dirt
All on my name but you can't pull my file
You don′t know me and you don't know my style
Coming out there like that there, YEAH
Even Grizzly Adams couldn′t bear
Ahhheheheh, I taught the boy everything he know
Go on you bad motherfuckaz
See I told you that kid go back to that Dolemite
Everybody needs to love Dolemite
I love Dolomite, you love Dolemite
Hey, how you doing nigga, I know you
Knowing I didn't when I did
Meth-Tical
Shit, I told the boy
If ya can′t get yourself a ten
The least you can do is spark five two's
And we out, Method



Writer(s): Robert F Diggs, Clifford Smith


Method Man - Tical
Album Tical
date of release
15-11-1994




Attention! Feel free to leave feedback.