Check The Method

Check The Method Lyrics

It's like that, y'all, check it out now
(Yeah yeah, now check the method) (Repeat 4x)

f**k that, you know who's bigger
Even though nowadays you got all these motherf**king new niggas
f**k those who spread rumors, I didn't retire
Even though you got all these Lord Finesse juniors
Trying to get hype and rip mics
They just imitators that can't quite get my sh*t right
So won't y'all just face it
That y'all sweat me so much I gotta give my dick a facelift
Wanna battle, I'm all for it
When it comes to this, I've been through more sh*t than a toilet
Now we could get wild and search for peace
Cause right now I'm chillin', like the nigga home on work release
And even on a lover tip I'll still wax brothers quick
When I do my thing I be on some old other sh*t
Niggas I slaughter, just to bring order
Aw f**k it, my sh*t be flowing like spring water

It's like that, y'all, check it out now
(Yeah yeah, now check the method) (Repeat 2x)

Now it's the dictator whose style's greater
It's the man with more flavors than motherf**king Now & Laters
And rappers I hit 'em well
They automatically go to heaven f**king with me, I give 'em hell
Yeah, so don't try to front, troop
When your style is played out like an Osh-Kosh jumpsuit
Huh, I'm out to collect figures
I'm on some Wu-Tang sh*t, so protect your f**king neck, nigga
I don't front like a man on a high horse
But yo, I make more noise than July 4th
So run, son, I ain't the one, bum, who dial 911
If you don't, you's a motherf**king dumb dumb
I'm not a role model, I'm a bad figure
When it comes to rap, I got skills out the ass, nigga
I got it locked like a warden
Rap without Finesse, that's like the NBA without Jordan
So all you new jacks kicking wack raps it's a fact that
I'll be on your f**king back like a napsack
It ain't sh*t you can tell me
Cause the ladies still jel me without an LP

It's like that, y'all, check it out now
(Yeah yeah, now check the method) (Repeat 4x)

It's like that y'all, and I keep figures
It's the hardcore ruffneck funky type of street nigga
Lord Finesse got the swift rap and
You don't need Dionne Warwick and them psychic friends to predict that
In years to come I'm bound to shine
Give me a mic and a minute, I'll show niggas I get down for mine
Word life, you know the haps
f**king with me is like bungee jumping with no rope attached
Man listen, I got plenty rhymes
When it comes to props, motherf**ks just oughta gimme mine
Word, cause I slay ya fast
Whether you're the best MC with a mic, or you're straight up trash
My lyrics excel, hops
From the ghetto street upstate to motherf**king cell blocks
No dought I got clout
I gotta give a shout (To who?) To my brother Show when I'm out

It's like that, y'all, check it out now
(Yeah yeah, now check the method) (Repeat 4x)