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(One) Shot where his chest at (Baow) (Ones) One, it's the Meth Lab (Baow) (Ones) Matter fact, scratch that We the one, one, one, one, one (Yeah, look) Pay me the homage these rappers couldn't afford I'll never make a promise your mama couldn't abort See, I'm a big deal, I mean I'm kind of a boss You can find right on that line you was trying to cross The kid cooking, got rappers shooken, of course How he get so good at cooking, ain't never took him a course? Central booking before I took him to court Man one, make sure he done 'fore I put in the fork, bong Y'all don't get it, don't see I'm getting the drop Now anybody getting it, go from get it to got I get it started, you'll never get it to stop Like them inside jokes, you can either get it or not I get it hot, but y'all been gettin' me cold Right now I'm passwords, y'all forgetting the code And so another rapper waiting to roll Down that highway to Heaven and Jesus paying the toll (One) Shot where his chest at (Baow) (Ones) One, it's the Meth Lab (Baow) (Ones) Matter fact, scratch that We the one, one, one, one, one (Let's go, Doc, yo) Letras de canciones I was home and my phone ring, they said Method Man need a verse For my Gs, I put Dapper Dan on a shirt Fiends be fighting like hockey fans on a first Perico flow, Saran Wrap for the work Check credential, pen game Ginsu My girl name Nine Nina, she on her menstrual These young niggas, old niggas, they don't wanna beef They say they in the street, but their block don't agree I'm number one, no cap, big facts Hey DJ, this blue magic on your slip mats I got hitters, maybe one out of Staten Island Walk in my shoes? Like tryna do the crate challenge (Get 'em) KRS-One and me and Meth Roll on the set with the status, like BMF Without money, you can't control your honey If you a jack boy, better run from me, I got it I was a product of my environment Now the product I put out built stacks for my retirement (Yes, sir) I talk dirty like the south where my mother from I ain't number three or number two, nigga, I'm number one (Ayy) (One) Shot where his chest at (Baow) (Ones) One, it's the Meth Lab (Baow) (Ones) Matter fact, scratch that We the one, one, one, one, one (One) Shot where his chest at (Baow, we get the) (Ones) One, it's the Meth Lab (Baow, woo) (Ones) Matter fact, scratch that We the one, one, one, one, one (KRS-One) We the ones in the Meth lab, a sellout gonna do what? Machete over they whole crew head, that's a crew cut You never heard how we used to suit up, bring the brute up And how these rappers you thought was dope, they got chewed up Who's up to get bruised up? You gonna choose what? You can see what's going on, man, you fake, you fucked Gun under the sellout's chin, his man threw up 'Cause when the gat went bang, the traitor's head blew up I be saying straight to they face, to traitor, you suck Corporate pimps are selling you and your man like two sluts In L.A. they say, "KRS-One, you nuts" 'Cause l bum rush the show with new flavor and new Chucks I run amok on these fucks, knife in they gut My tongue sharp, amateurs ain't liking these cuts These mics, I'm lighting them up, I'm not what you used to I teach in China now, so my rhymes'll fry your noodle I'm on a search like Google to find what's useful I'm the guru in the Meth Lab bringing the fire to you Fake rappers are the same, like Amazon Prime and Hulu Talking gaga, goo-goo, it can drive you cuckoo But I'm the revolutionary, you can't air me I'm too scary, my roots are Malcolm X like Alex Haley You know what I'm about, no doubt Yo, Johnny Blaze, good looking out, I'm out From Letras Mania