Blackout Lyrics

Blackout lyrics

[Intro]: Meth 



 



 *All my people...!* 



 



 [Redman] 



 



 It's Funk Doc 



 Where da weed at, bitch?! 



 I speed back wist, down to one-way from cops 



 See thas' shit?! Believe thas' shit! 



 Slaughter straight to camcorder, I'm too hot for t.v. 



 Backdraw water, my windpipes attached to Project-ballers 



 You yell: "Turn the heat down!" 



 My voice, diggi-di-round-sound, some herb round town 



 And chances of ya'll leavin', round now 



 Wait later, will make Funk page paper 



 They rape up the Juveline Ave Graders 



 Hit the High School at 187 Caesar 



 When I bust ya'll need to back 4 achers 



 Doc ya'll and that's my man Jap-A-Jaw 



 The shitlist ready, who next to scratch off? 



 I'm from the underground, my soundlib 



 Platform shoes to bitches, 400 pounds! 



 



 [Chorus]: Meth & Red 



 



 GET UP, STAND UP, BACK UP, PUSH 'EM 



 JUMP UP, ACT UP TO MAKE YOU FEEL IT! 



 Brrrrr...STICK 'EM, HA-HAHA STICK 'EM 



 Brrrrr...STICK 'EM, HA-HAHA STICK 'EM 



 Yo' BLACKOUT, SHOOT OUT, SMOKED OUT 



 MOVE OUT, EVEN KNOCK THE TOOTH OUT, TO MAKE YA'LL FEEL IT! 



 Brrrrr...STICK 'EM, HA-HAHA STICK 'EM 



 Brrrrr...STICK 'EM, HA-HAHA STICK 'EM 



 



 [Meth] 



 



 Now I'm the streettalkin', dogwalkin' 



 A pursuit with extreme caution, OH NOW YOU FORCIN'? 



 My hand that rock yo' cradle often 



 I'm hot-scorchin', but stome cold like Steve Austin 



 If you smell what Tical cookin', ain't try to see, send you bookin' 



 So til ya gon' stop lookin', now what you did last summer? 



 So I started hookin', you past shookin' 



 Over open can I ass-whoopin'? 



 Ain't no Tamara's in the Method's Little Shop Of Horrors 



 Go ask your father who the father from the Hilbill harbour 



 You know tha saga, marihuana plushin' gold sluggaz 



 With deadly medley, ya'll ain't ready for Shakwon and Reggie 



 Don't even bother, the radio for back-up 



 Alright then, ya man got slapped up extorted for his icin' 



 Streetlife is triflin' *Body over here...!* 



 Come meet me like Tyson and bite a nigga' ear 



 Precisin', slicin' juggerless the cut-crew 



 Ruggeder, Predator, Viking, Exatorer 



 People's champ, niggaz be takin' off competetors 



 Reachin' for the microphone, relax and light a bone 



 Straight from the Caticone 



 The Children Of The Corn, that don't got a clue 



 Prepare for desert storm! 



 



 [Chorus] 



 



 



 



 I scored 1.1 on my SAT 



 And still pushin' whip with a right and left AC 



 Gorilla, Big Dog, if my name get caught 



 I'm behind the brickwall with Aus and Nick Jaws 



 Spit poison, got a gun permit draw 



 Gundown at Sundown you keep score! 



 This training-course and ya'll ain't fit 



 On my crew-tombstone put 'We All Ain't Shit' 



 



 [Meth] 



 



 Yo', all you gonna be, wanna be 



 When will you learn? Wanna be Doc and Meth? Gotta wait ya turn 



 I spit a .41 Revolver on New Year's Eve 



 With the mic in my hand I mutilate m.c.'s 



 The most slapped on ? and wink 



 My shit stink with every element from A to Z 



 So what you think? I'ma blackout on just one drink? 



 You must be crazy! A little off the wall maybe 



 Go get a shrink... 



 



 [Chorus]