Bring the Pain

[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, uh, based on instrumental, oh!

Records, hey, so I can write monumental!

Method, I'm not the king!

But niggas is decaf, I stick 'em for the 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, clothes you've crossed over, and now you're totally crossed out, 'nd cris crossed...

Who da boss? Niggas get tossed to the side!

And I'm the dark side of the Force!

Of course, it's the Method Man... from the Wu-Tang Clan

I be hectic, and comin' for the head piece, protected

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 Man on some shit, fuckin' niggas foul

Son, I'm sick

Insane, crazy, driving Miss Daisy

Out her fuckin' mind, 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... ah!

When I will be the number one

Hey, hey, hey!

Now you listen to me, Darcon, Darcon!

And...

And all you niggas come and test me, test me!

I'm gonna lick out yo 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!