Do You Really
Method Man Lyrics


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Who wanna flip with the acrobatic
From ground zero all the way to attic, what we be smokin, Tical
The resevoir is now open
I swim the English Channel backstrokin, you don't know me or my style
We hold court and blow trial
You catch 'cal when you browse through my X-Files, who be next now
Man's down, hands down
Hold ground by yo' side when it go down, I dedicate this next dart
To my fucking heart
Little Meth he the best part, now walk with that one, word
Time Time 4 Sum Aksion
Dreamin bout Toni Braxton, blowin her back out like Bob Backlund
I'm throwin wrestlin holds
Tag team with Funk Doc, we in funk mode, take yo' best shot
If it don't hip it don't hop
If it don't quit it don't stop, that's the life

I be the super-lyrical individual I be splittin through
That Teflon material to knock Big Ben off of schedule
Better move with a set of tools
I be doin it to mics when I'm a, heterosexual
I load the mic then cock, drop it like three-quarters
When I slaughter don't get, caught in the water
Cause the Brick's got it's own World Order
Leave your bitch in shock like the third rail caught her
Styles stay deeper than orca, I float the seven seas with ease
Did more drugs than pharmacies
So call me that lyrical Genovese, you can't compare
Get you steppin like stairs, frats, sororities
Don't make me bring it on back I fuck up the majority
Of niggas lookin hard at me, I Port 'em like Authority
And when my nigga Meth shine
Out the inner How High mobile rollin three dimes at a time
(Redman and Method Man still... "hiiiigh hiiiiiiiiigh")
It's that Jersey representer
Get hit from the bottom to your head when you enter

Word

Just do what ya feel and never follow (repeat 3X)
Funk Doc break it down

Hah, yo, suck my dick out of animosity
The velocity will fly that head and freeze yo' camps like pottery
To give lobotomies to all you rap colonies
And shunt your million dollar investment, to economy
Impossibly might be the one in black leather
Name tag sayin "Caution when wet by the track wetter"
The hash spreader, I love the grimy shit
Even my girl did grimy shit to me and I went back with her
Three years for carrying a loaded handgun
But it's forever when a nigga [chik-chik BLAAAOW] and he lands one
To your cranium
That red dot on your forehead it's not cause you Arabian
(Yo watch you say to him!)
You caught up in a tight situation
I should start erasin your whole organization for makin
Wack tunes while my whole platoon rock the basement
You couldn't come close if I gave you my bookin agent
Or producer, royalty points twelve shot loaded Luger
Even a crowd to get you souped up - you're still wack
I peel caps, on the regular
Destroy MC's et cetera, creep like The Predator
Fuck you, your label moms and yo' editor
Give you two to the jugular, blood be spreadin
All on my shirt, the king of the flirt shittin
Bitches hit me off more than New Edition
(Tweet-tweet-tweet-tweet, tweet-tweet-tweet-tweet)
I make them pigs heart skip a beat from the steel physique
So Iron Lung (one me gun done)
Get on the mic and break em off with sumthin sumthin

We moonshine and grow crops
Purchasin the handhelds with the sho' shots, it got me spittin
These slugs at my competition, in rap sessions
U-A-P ain't got no weapon, you lip professin
Next in, line, parental discretion advised
These explicit, street linguistics
Better than yo' momma biscuits, we bomb shellin
I might know but ain't tellin, too bad you missed it
Johnny, Dangerously Blaze another enemy made another due paid
Color-safe bleach so I don't fade
Scar your mental with my double edged blade, razor sharp
Get yo' bandaids hold that
Like E said, Get the Bozack
Show them wack niggas where the do's at
On the case like I'm Kojak
Kissin the grits on that Flo bitch
Flip scripts take LOOONG shits - Raider Ruckus
One, I come with premeditated redrum
Gingivitis to your filthy ass gums




Bottom line either get down or get done
Motherfucker

Overall Meaning

The lyrics to Method Man feat. Redman's song Do what ya feel describe the desire of the two rappers, Method Man and Redman, to do what they feel, and not follow any rules or regulations. The chorus of the song emphasizes that message, and urges everyone to do what they feel, without worrying about anyone else's opinions. The mention of smoking "Tical" suggests that the rappers are under the influence of marijuana while singing, as Tical is a strain of cannabis. The references to wrestling and tag-teaming, combined with the reference to Toni Braxton and Bob Backlund, suggest that the rappers are casual and carefree, and they sing about whatever comes to their mind. They also refer to their own strength and prowess, reiterating that they do what they like and are good at it.


The lyrics also contain several violent references, such as the reference to lobotomy and assassination, which may be a commentary on the violence and aggression that is prevalent in the rap music industry. The lyrics may also be seen as a challenge to the conformity that is expected in mainstream music, and an assertion of individuality and freedom. The rappers are encouraging their listeners to be themselves, and not follow the crowd. The lyrics contain many cultural references and slang expressions, which makes them unique and interesting to decode.




Lyrics © BMG Rights Management, Universal Music Publishing Group, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC
Written by: JERRY DUPLESSIS, SAMUEL PRAKAZREL MICHEL, REGGIE NOBLE, CLIFFORD SMITH

Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind
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Comments from YouTube:

@cristianmarinsereno3456

Still listening to old school

@Luisberal

[DJ Kay Slay:]
Yo, this is a Wu-Banger, two thousand and one noise maker
Off the hook guerilla anthem
This is DJ Kay Slay, from around the way
And I'll smack the shit outta ANY OF YOU DJ's
That front on this shit.. think I'm playin?

[Method Man:]
I heard you ladies got them thang-thangs, do you really?
I heard y'all niggas like to bang-bang, do you really?
I heard you ladies got them thang-thangs, do you really?
I heard y'all niggas like to bang-bang, do you really?

[StreetLife:]
I never been a fan of the fame, I got love for the game
Never lust for the dames, I got dust in my veins
Little off in the brain, kid talks butter slang
Sniffed a little blow with the rap Eddie Kane
Spent a lot of dough, it's so hard to explain
And I fucked a lot of hoes off the strength of the name
Wu-Tang, see me at the next, X Winter Games
Snowboardin down a ski range, it's a blue and grey frame
Keep, pointin the finger, I'm that nigga to blame
The main reason why you tuck the chain
Self proclaimed, got a lotta profit to gain
And I'm leavin the rap game the same way I came

[Method Man:]
Now creep with me, as I roll through the Stat
Little Meth got my back, so do Pinky Fat-Fat
Let me hit that contact, learn how to act
Before you bring that drama the end; now fade to black
Positive, hate kids who tell me lies
Despise guys that wanna get high but never buy
Got nine lives, nine wives that don't listen
Bitchin their biological clocks is tickin
Wu limited edition - hot off the presses
I guess it's, curtains for competition
Method, runnin 'em out, gun in my mouth
The kid your momma warned you about, tear down the house
After midnight, eatin MC's, change to a gremlin
You're tremblin, behind the Kremlin wall, surrenderin
That's what you get for Russian/rushin, in the direction I was bustin
Polish your sword, your shit is rustin

I heard you ladies got them thang-thangs, do you really?
I heard y'all niggas like to bang-bang, do you really?
I heard you ladies got them thang-thangs, do you really?
I heard y'all niggas like to bang-bang, do you really?

[Masta Killa:]
One-two, testin, testin, mic check wreckin
Steps into the session
Automatic weapon off safety, don't play me
But brings all them things with silencers
My clan is liver than your average '85er
Strive to stay alive
I play for keeps in the streets
Cause it's real on the battlefield
Shells hit the ground from the steel
Bullets travel, sun set fire to your mind
Words combine when I rhyme to free the blind
Prepare my queen for battle and walk down
I drink from the wine of violence, no tolerance
Gave word bond, sword silence
Me in military fatigues, bulletproof underneath
Buy enough ammunition to round and sweep the streets
Of Brooklyn, central, sugar-whipped the rental
While I'm lickin out the window at y'all, fuck y'all

[Method Man:]
I heard you ladies got them thang-thangs, do you really?
I heard y'all niggas like to bang-bang, do you really?
I heard you ladies got them thang-thangs, do you really?
I heard y'all niggas like to bang-bang, do you really?

[Inspectah Deck:]
Yo, we thrive on street life, we strive to eat right
They blind and need sight, we tried to be nice
They talk the small talk, we walk the long walk
We lost, they all thought, they forced to fall short
We rock for hard rocks, rocked the hot blocks
Shop and cop rocks, watch the top notch in action
Begin to make your head spin
Wu-Tang my brethren, we bang like veterans
They paid for record spins, taste the medicine
Or face the double M, we came to trouble them
Hustle them for they 20 mill' then buckle them
'Nuff to spin out the blue, bitches lovin them
Dozen men with force of a hundred-ten
Stumblin thug passions, it must've been

[Method Man:]
I heard you ladies got them thang-thangs, do you really?
I heard y'all niggas like to bang-bang, do you really?
I heard you ladies got them thang-thangs, do you really?
I heard y'all niggas like to bang-bang, do you really?

I heard you ladies got them thang-thangs, do you really?
I heard y'all niggas like to bang-bang, do you really?
I heard you ladies got them thang-thangs, do you really?
I heard y'all niggas like to bang-bang, do you really?

@phantxmtv1322

Dope

@Jatni55

i got crazy by these...

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