Even If

Yo, c'mon! Even if I died a thousand deaths When I resurrect I'll still be Meth The jams will still be def I'm here, me and this mic-phone, we here And ain't tryin' to hear nothin' cuz we had it up to here (What?) Lyrics have no dress code (yeah) From KRS to Depeche Mode Hit them so cool you cats cold Had to jump off, it's about to jump off My niggaz speak with they hands or the gun talk Yo RZA, we got the Clan in the front and police at the door Every exit is laced with C-4 about to blow Life trial I'm passed out MC's is like bitches in thongs - they assed out But me, the M-E-T-H- the O-D Just too real, I can't be touched and can't feel The monotony in rap, take a picture of my nut sac Carbon copy that and send your crew a fax Motherfucker 1- New and improved Wu-Tang style Turn it up now, y'all done fucked up now Spit flames (Five mics) Peep game (On site) Bring the pain (All night) Off the chain (Damn right) "It's the Method Man for short Mister Meth" "Tical-lion" "Hmmm" Yo, yo, yo, yo, yo, yo, c'mon! Even if I died a thousand deaths When I resurrect, through my first born, my name lives on My words is like a third degree to young emcees Buzzworthy on your MTV, the Killa Bees John Jacob, straight up, break up, schemes and plots Ace up my sleeve, bake up pies in pots So this is what it's come to (Huh?) Lickin' shots at them kids that used to punk you (Huh?) Repetitious rap shit, don't get no air play ya mouth whip And niggaz can't smoke wit' dry lips so chapped Bite my shit, I'm like Kojack to get my flow back In fo' flat, I track you down like a low jack Spy spy, eye for an eye can I penalize the uncivilized Make 'em civilized You know right from wrong, so know I'm the bomb Who don't beef for beats, see the tracks on my arm Motherfucker Repeat 1 Repeat 2 Yo, yo, yo, yo, yo, yo, c'mon! Repeat 2 Repeat 2 Repeat 2 Yo, yo, yo, yo, yo, yo, c'mon!