Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Never Hold Back, artist - Method Man.
Date of issue: 31.12.2003
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
Never Hold Back |
We gon' roll with that right there, aight then |
-- beat drops -- |
Gilla House, muthafucka, Gilla House |
Gilla House, muthafucka, Gilla House! |
Yeah, another Def Jam, where we don’t make stars |
We just sign 'em, uh-huh, that’s what’s up, Big Sox |
I’m on the grind… (can't wait to shine) |
Fuck that, I pull your blinds, catch you f’ing with mines, no go 'head |
I got no time (hate to be wastin' time), muthafucka know the name |
And know that I ain’t feelin' ya’ll lames, like novacaine |
Ain’t no way you can (stop the train) or the conductor |
Of the track, muthafucka, that’s E3, my love for the game |
(it's just not the same) |
Unless it’s Gilla House, and Wu-Tang Clan, in the house, cop them thangs |
Live together and (pop the chain), know your lane |
Fuck cocaine, stick up, bout to blow your brains off the map |
The (Flame is back), it’s the amazing |
J. Blazin' grapes of wrath turn to raisin |
What part of the (game is that), we not playin' |
Ya’ll try’nna raise the price at the door, we not payin' |
So watcha (watcha want?) You kids are slum |
And son got knuckles in his Air Force One’s, come on |
Niggas never seen it this raw (but nothing’s gonna hold me back) |
Keep the heat up by the big dog (but I don’t wanna hold you back) |
Nigga gotta get this dough (I just wanna live my life) |
Nigga gotta get this dough (Live your life) |
Yo, yo, on the air (thought you dead?) But I returned |
To give you what you waited four years, now to burn |
Hold your head (and know your ledge) your life flash by |
Hey, kid, walk straight, master your high |
Method Man (Method Man, Man) Whoa, like Black Rob, go |
Catch me in the West Wing, I might «Rob Lowe» |
Yes, I can (yes, I can can) tap your jaw |
And tell whatever chick that I’m with, slap your broad |
This is it, (I'm stuck with ya’ll) and ya’ll stuck with me |
In the lap of luxury, where the hell’s cut for free |
And the kid (can't fuck with ya’ll) Til I got a tree |
On some new property, at my new pot to pee, have mercy |
(Mercy me) Things ain’t what they used to |
Soon as you get your shot on the top, somebody shoot ya |
These rhymes (ain't nursery) Life’s a bitch |
Then you go to court, and she take half your shit, come on! |
My, life, your life, yeah, Mr. Meth, Big John Studd, yo |
Ya’ll know how I do it, screw it, all day, everyday |
You know what I’m sayin'? |
Stinkin', drinkin' and fightin' crime |
Staten Island, stand up, we in the muthafuckin' house |
Come on! |