Bring the Acapella

[Verse 1] (Lemme tell you now) I came to bring the pain hardcore from the brain Let's go inside my astral plane Find out my mental, based on instrumental Records, hey, so I can write monumental Method, I'm not the king But niggas is decaf, I stick 'em full of CREAM Check it, just how deep can shit get Get deeper than your fists and brothers is mad, pissed, accept it In your Cross Colour clothes, you've crossed over Then got Totally Krossed Out, Kris Krossed Who da boss? Niggas get tossed to the side And I'm the dark side of the Force Of course it's the Method (woo) from the Wu-Tang (woo) I be hectic, and comin' for the head piece, protect it Fuck it, two tears in a bucket, niggas want the ruckus Yo, bust it at me, son, now bust it Styles, I get buck wild Method (woo) on some shit, fuckin' niggas foul So now i'm sick Insane, crazy, driving Miss Daisy How the fuck am I? Now I got mine, I'm Swayze [Hook] Is it real, son? Lemme know it's real, son If it's really real, son Lemme know it's real Load it up and kill one Load it up and kill one Load it up and kill one If it's really real [Interlude] When I was a little stereo I used to be the champion Oh oh oh I always wondered When I will be the number one Hey hey hey Now you listen to me, Darcon Darcon And [distortion] And all you niggas come and test me, test me I'm gonna lick out your brains [Verse 2] Brothers want to hang with the Meth, bring the rope Cause the only way you'll hang is by the neck Nigga bump off the set Comin' through all your projects Take it as a threat or better yet, it is a promise Comin' from a vet on some old Vietnam shit You can bet your bottom dollar that I'm on it And it's gonna get even worse, word to God It's the Wu, comin' through takin' niggas 'fore they're Gone, gone, gone, gone, gone, gone Movin' to your left I came to represent and carve my name within your chest You can come test, realize it's no contest, son I'm the gun who won that old Wild West Quick on the draw with my hands on the floor Lovin' all those goddamn monkey rhymes galore Check it, 'cause I think not when this hip-hop like proper Rhymes be the proof while I'm drinkin' 90 proof vodka No OJ, no, no straw When you give it to me, yeah, give it to me raw I burn Give it to me raw I burn Chest hair I don't need no chemical blow to pull a ho, no All I need is Chemical Bank to pay her up [Hook] Is it real, son? Lemme know it's real, son If it's really real, son Lemme know it's One, two, three, four Kill one Fuck it up and kill one Fuck it up and kill one Lemme know it's real