| Yeah yeah, yeah yeah yeah
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| Yeah, yeah yeah, yeah yeah yeah
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| Yeah (Yeah)
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| Yeah yeah (Yo)
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| Damn, I hate it when it rain
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| Ever since I came in the game
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| Some hated on the fame
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| A lot of niggas done changed
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| And started actin’strange
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| Even labels turning they backs
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| And started backing lames
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| Radio is the same, whole lotta speculatin'
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| These mutherfuckas defacatin’on the name
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| Wu-Tang, if this is where the hip-hop is Radio lyin’then, that ain’t where hip-hop live
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| It lives in the streets, we eat to live they livin’to eat
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| I’m fed up, that nigga rides in 'em, givin 'em sleep
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| R.I.P., make me the king of all I see
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| And when death call I’m good I got call ID
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| See it was planned in the front, now they just gon’front
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| Like my joints is on proactive, and they just don’t bump
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| Then niggas gon’say I lost my skill
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| when in fact they all been programmed
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| And lost they feel, fo’real
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| They’ve got so much things to say right now
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| They’ve got so much things to say
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| They’ve got so much things to say right now (Yeah)
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| They got so much things to say (Yo)
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| Damn, another artist chokes again
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| They ain’t cut as close as him or even broke the skin
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| See how niggas ain’t yo friends, when there ain’t no ends
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| Don’t care who the case offend, don’t underrate my pen
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| I got what it takes to win, while ya’ll are thinking I’m trash
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| Loving the taste of success and this drink in my glass
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| Watch 'em cosign that whack shit, give it a pass till it’s gone
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| Quicker than Red, can’t get rid of them clubs
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| When they’re wrong, call the cops, they credibility’s shot
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| It’s time to learn, what hot really is and really is not
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| Off brain niggas, Meth gonna let 'em know off top
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| Don’t get smacked on dvds, trying to show off blocks
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| I can’t stop cause my enemies plot, or cause the cops want me Shackled and locked inside the penalty box
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| And while they waitin’for my shit to flop
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| They gettin’pimped like hoes
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| Sellin’they ass just to get my spot, come on man
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| Ask Miss Hill, half these critics ain’t got half this skill
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| Often so hungry that they have to steal
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| If I didn’t have my deal, and didn’t have this mass appeal
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| Then I’m back up in that trap, swingin’crack it’s real
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| And that ain’t worth the time, so search and find a new nerve
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| And here’s three words: stop working mine
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| It take a lot more to hurt my pride
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| Jerk my vibe more than media lies, cry when dirt dog die nigga
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| The last album wasn’t feeling my style
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| This time my foot up in they ass but they feelin’me now
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| Cause Tical, he put his heart in every track he do But somehow yall find someway to give a whack review
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| It ain’t all good, they writin’that I’m Hollywood
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| Tryin’to tell you my shit ain’t ghetto and they hardly hood
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| Come on man, until you dudes can write some rhymes
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| Keep that in mind when you find yourself reciting mines |
Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Say, artist - Method Man. Album song 4:21...The Day After, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп