Limp Bizkit, Method Man — N 2 Gether Now

[Produced by DJ Premier] DJ Premier Uh, uh, uh [Verse 1: Fred Durst & Method Man] Who could be the boss? Look up to the cross Stranded in the land of the lost Standin' up, I'm sideways I'm blazin' up the path, runnin' on the highways of rap Choked up by the smoke and the charcoal A lotta stamps and brands, we like a bar code I'm bashin' all the media strikes to keep the media dykes As reinforcement for the fight And that alone'll keep John Gotti on the phone I'm tangled in the zone, I got the bees on the track Where the fuck you at? (Tical!) Let me hear you pigeons run ya mouth now (Shut the fuck up!) I'm pluggin' in them social skills that keep my total bills Over a million the last time I checked it Thank God, I'm blessed with a mind that'll wreck it Wait until the second round and knock 'em out [Verse 2: Method Man] They call me Big John Studd, my middle name Mud Dirty water flow, too much for you thug They can't stand the flood – what up, doc? Hold big gun like Elmer Fudd, the sureshot Mr. Meth I'm unplugged (learn!) Temperatures too hot for sunblock (burn!) Playin' wit' minds that get you state time Locked behind 12 bars from a great mind Killa bees in the club wit' this ladybug Brought a sword to the dance floor to cut a rug Love is love all day, til' they throw slugs And take another life in cold blood, can't feel me 'til its your blood Murder rates tremendous, crime is endless Same shit different day, Father forgive us They know not what they do, all praise is due I'm big like E-Z and Big Bambu [Hook: Method Man] What's that? I didn't hear you Shut the fuck up! Come on, a little louder! Shut the fuck up! Everybody in together now Shut the fuck up! What, huh? Just shut the fuck up, just shut the fuck up! What's that? I didn't hear you Shut the fuck up! Come on, a little louder! Shut the fuck up! Everybody in together now Shut the fuck up! What, huh? Just shut the fuck up, just shut the fuck up! [Verse 3: Method Man & Method Man + Fred] Headstrong, dead calm, Dead by Dawn Dead weight, they dead wrong, let's get it on Twelve rounds of throw down – who hold crown? Protect land wit' four pound, Limp Bizkit Get around like merry-go, bust a scenario Comin' through your stereo, why risk it? Lifestyles of the prolific and gifted Eight essential vitamins and minerals, delicious Word on the street is, they bit my thesis Knocked out they front teefes, tryin' to taste mine Actin' like they heard it through the grapevine Dope fiendin' for the bassline, to provide rhyme Pharmaceuticals, hard as nails to the cuticles Where'd you find that monster? She beautiful Wu-Tang and Limp Bizkit, roll on the set Kick a hole in the speaker, pull the plug, and then jet [Verse 4: Fred Durst & Method Man] Mic check, so what's it all about? And where we gonna run? Maybe we can meet up on the sun Discretion is advised for the blood of virgin eyes We limpin' on the track with the Method So get the sunblock, you gettin' one-shot Until you dissolve, I revolve around everything you got From outta nowhere, prepare, you be blinded by the glare I told you not to stare, now you're turned into stone Without a microphone, but don't you forget you're in a zone So shut the fuck up, and take that shit back 'Cause all your shit's wack (Doo doo is doo doo) When its weighed out like that Burnin' up your brain like a piston So all those that didn't listen, now they even knew what they were missin' And never even knew that the sky was fallin' down Wu-Tang-Clan for the crown [Hook: Method Man] What's that? I didn't hear you Shut the fuck up! Come on, a little louder! Shut the fuck up! Everybody in together now Shut the fuck up! What, huh? Just shut the fuck up, just shut the fuck up! What's that? I didn't hear you Shut the fuck up! Come on, a little louder! Shut the fuck up! Everybody in together now Shut the fuck up! What, huh? Just shut the fuck up, just shut the fuck up! [Outro: Method Man] It was over your head – all day, every day S.I.N.Y. 10304 Wu-Tang Killa Bees And the Limp B-I-Z-K-I-T Y'all know the time, y'all know the rhyme It ain't easy bein' greazy in a world full of cleanliness And, you know, all that other madness We gone, peace! Limp Bizkit, Method Man Rock the house y'all! Bring it on!