Water

[Verse 1: Method Man]

Riding dirty, got a Ruger in your lap

Black suit, 7:30, couple shooters from the trap

They done killed the homie brother

What you s'posed to do with that?

Who gon' tell his baby mother that her dude ain’t coming back?

That kind of pain is hard to put into a rap

The block is hot and can’t nobody move a pack

When you shooting on-site, you aim the Ruger at his naps

Cut his tongue, hog-tie him, things we usually do to rats

What? Who gassed you up and threw a match?

Don’t want police to line you up and you a match

Fool them clowns into thinking you a snack

Brought a gun to wash it down and you can drink it through the tap

That’s my reaction, now react

Now try to picture Malcolm X without the strap

If Meth Man could navigate the globe without a map

I could beat the pussy up without a scratch

[Chorus]

Time ticking teams quick to get ya

I’m trying to bury about a trillion

Meth's Lab bitch catch us on ya