Method Man — The Setup 2004 Tim Westwood Freestyle

[Verse 1: Method Man] Yes I'm in the place for sure! Yeah, yeah, yeah 'Til crime pays up John Blaze up I'm hella hot Get that weight up This nigga straight up Like twelve o' clock [?] up I mixed it with [?] To blow the cake up Bet on Jacob Might wake up Gagged and taped up It's us Older than dirt We fart dust Plus we can't get enough of this In God we trust That's big bucks I drive a big-ass truck That's just big enough for a big-ass butt Errday, (everyday) follow my lead And errday, (everyday) I keep weed Like all that I need is Mary J Want mo' pay Gimme mo' chips than Frito-Lay So any thoughts of sinking my ship is D.O.A That's right family, understand me? I boombayeh where you lay, family Like Miami, be M.I.A Now how high? So high that I can kiss the sky Who wanna (kiss) be the next ass that's kissed goodbye? Speaking my piece, before ya fix ya lips to try I'm hotter than greese And I got bigger fish to fry In this cold world, no tellin' who's supplying the heat Who put niggas on Elm Street and hope they die in they sleep? I got my sword on, not a average sendin' me in What oxymorons, this is where your ending begin That's just a method If it ain't, I ain't saying it is Some call me father like a priest, but I ain't playin' with kids Pass the dutch, my blood pressure that's what's up And that shit that y'all was writing all day... That's my nuts Stay focused, stay in ya lane I swing a hook like Candyman If ya sayin' my name Ain't nuthin' change [Verse 2: Method Man] Ya know why? Cause that tough talk 'ill get ya nowhere fast Champagne bottled if ya go there smash Hits after midnight and still cash rule I'm lovin' Cinderella and her one glass shoe I'm is what I'm is and that's all that I'm is I've been spoiled, my kids called it like it is Watch out now, who buyed his milk as a cow? And his fat farm come with a hoe and a plow That leave you sleepy Defeat me, how? You greasy, yo' bitch got a eye on her knee They call her "Kneesee" Ten years and counting It's been me and these two balls now And we ain't thinking bout bouncing The show ain't over 'til the fat lady sings 'Til then, I'll see more ass than a fat lady('s) jeans Folks wanna picture me broke, watch the birdie Then let's get dirty like Westwood and Jersey Come on