This Thing - La the Darkman, Method Man, RZA

Do you see these bags under my fuckin' eyes?!

Geez! That’s all I ever wanted was, uh huh, uh huh, yeah yeah, thing thing

That’s all I ever really wanted was, thing thing

There I go, rushin' the dough, puffin' the 'dro

I get low, with nothin' to show, like cuttin' the blow

Y’all niggas know, the Clan in effect, the man on your left

Is M-E-F, I’m cashin' a check to snappin' a neck

My M.O., is stabbin' the third, Staten, you heard!

With P.O., pluckin' your nerves, who fuckin' you bird?

When you ain’t, stickin' the stink, I’m thinkin' I’ll thank my critics

Booger they drinks and sugar they tanks, who is it?

Back in this bent, with rappin' and shit, it’s Bobby

Attached to his hip, like ratchet to clip, it’s Johnny

From tappin' my herb, to tappin' your chin, for dough

Don’t shorten my word, or shorten them ends, for sure (yo, yo)

I blitz the mic once I hear hype, the left tackler

Tackle a track like a hundred Lewis linebackers

Ninja rapper, lyric Eagle Claw Grappler

Blow the fuse off a thousand watt black after

Amplifier, cramp the liar, stamp the champ

Revamp the camp, blow your lamp fire

Fifty shots in the sky, for the Dig-I

T-A-L, you swine inside the pigsty

Spend the will of Dhama, face your Karma

In pursuit like the F1 bomber, huntin' down Osama

From my hood I know A Few Good Men of Honor

Hearts cold, stack gold like Old Man Palmer

Port land, I Trailblaze to Portland

Oregon, to watch Rasheed Wallace score again

To get cocky off a glass of hassake

And rice and seaweed, bein' soaked in wasabi

Nostril flared up, eyes tearin', and I’m nearin'

The point of no return, bitch, I’ll have your blood smearin'

Yo, jumpin' out the Benz wagon, red Polo sweat saggin'

White tee, bandana, tan suade, Timbs draggin'

Fingers numb, from the thousand grams I finished baggin'

Coke on my hands, still smokin' dutches like a dragon

It’s a M-E-T, H-O-D and, the L-A D-A-R-K Man

I’m the Duke, please bless me like Mike Krzyzewski

Two weak ass rappers beefin', don’t impress me

My style’s poise, W.E.B. Dubois

Spit stellar minature, that the world enjoys

To my Clan, I’m commited, Red Sea, ok, kid it

When I lead this toilet of a Earth, know I shitted