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It's like that, y'all, check it out now (Yeah yeah, now check the method) [x4] Fuck that, you know who's bigger Even though nowadays you got all these motherfucking new niggas Fuck those who spread rumors, I didn't retire Even though you got all these Lord Finesse juniors Trying to get hype and rip mics They just imitators that can't quite get my shit right So won't y'all just face it That y'all sweat me so much I gotta give my dick a facelift Wanna battle, I'm all for it When it comes to this, I've been through more shit than a toilet Now we could get wild and search for peace Cause right now I'm chillin', like the nigga home on work release And even on a lover tip I'll still wax brothers quick When I do my thing I be on some old other shit Niggas I slaughter, just to bring order Aw fuck it, my shit be flowing like spring water It's like that, y'all, check it out now (Yeah yeah, now check the method) [x2] Now it's the dictator whose style's greater It's the man with more flavors than motherfucking Now & Laters And rappers I hit 'em well Letras de cancionesThey automatically go to heaven fucking with me, I give 'em hell Yeah, so don't try to front, troop When your style is played out like an Osh-Kosh jumpsuit Huh, I'm out to collect figures I'm on some Wu-Tang shit, so protect your fucking neck, nigga I don't front like a man on a high horse But yo, I make more noise than July 4th So run, son, I ain't the one, bum, who dial 911 If you don't, you's a motherfucking dumb dumb I'm not a role model, I'm a bad figure When it comes to rap, I got skills out the ass, nigga I got it locked like a warden Rap without Finesse, that's like the NBA without Jordan So all you new jacks kicking wack raps it's a fact that I'll be on your fucking back like a napsack It ain't shit you can tell me Cause the ladies still jel me without an LP It's like that, y'all, check it out now (Yeah yeah, now check the method) [x4] It's like that y'all, and I keep figures It's the hardcore ruffneck funky type of street nigga Lord Finesse got the swift rap and You don't need Dionne Warwick and them psychic friends to predict that In years to come I'm bound to shine Give me a mic and a minute, I'll show niggas I get down for mine Word life, you know the haps Fucking with me is like bungee jumping with no rope attached Man listen, I got plenty rhymes When it comes to props, motherfucks just oughta gimme mine Word, cause I slay ya fast Whether you're the best MC with a mic, or you're straight up trash My lyrics excel, hops From the ghetto street upstate to motherfucking cell blocks No dought I got clout I gotta give a shout (To who?) To my brother Show when I'm out It's like that, y'all, check it out now (Yeah yeah, now check the method) [x4] From Letras Mania