The Meth Lab - Method Man, Streetlife, Hanz On

I’ll give you three seconds to come out wit' your hands up, one, two

This is my own private domicile

I will not be harassed, motherfucker!

Welcome to the Meth Lab, listen, it’s time to cook

Not confessions of a video vixen, we by the book

Start the fire, I can tell what you thinkin' just by a look

I’m a crook, like some fish in a barrel, I got 'em hooked

Blame the Method, your sanity took, go 'head, admit it

You a meth head that live on the edge, just need a push

I’m your pusher, supplier, I’m back, the cheese on the wire

If a snitch burnin', wouldn’t even piss on the fire

Now you kids learnin', I ain’t tryin' to preach to the choir

Now the kids earnin' like them dealers that he admire

Got that whip workin' like I’m sacrificin' a virgin

That’s a burden, but I’m certain you’re feelin' it, after you try

You can’t deny I cook a batch like, 'Woo'

Hazardous material, you’d need a hazmat suit

Now you lookin' at me like, 'What's a hazmat suit?'

Somethin' used to move a body, you don’t have that loop

Let’s talk about trust

I told you not to cook my recipe

And you went ahead and did it anyway

Cause I never said I wouldn’t cook it

Cause it ain’t yours, it’s ours, bitch

Hookers in the kitchen, chemistry is the best recipe

Especially this shit, I’m takin' on bets

Pressure cookers, percolate 'em like chefs

Meth labs here to the West, wools on them gear trims grassed

Mr. Barker, General, front and center (What up?)

Got them burners wit' them bodies on them, have me in cuffs

Killer’s focused, slam it up in them trucks

Eyes low, grippin' the toast, trigger finger, playin' it close

You think it’s a game?

It’s imperative, we show 'em we live

These niggas playin' wit' this money, funny how niggas die

They say it’s over when the fat kid cry, ratchets fly here to the Chi'

You think you can stop me from cookin'?

You cook whatever you like, as long it’s that B work

These niggas be runnin' around in the street wit' everyday

Don’t even think about usin' my grade A

You should try and stop me, bitch

I’m in the meth lab concoctin' another concoction

Decisions, decisions, just weighin' my options

The formula highly addictive, it’s habit forming

Side effects life-threatenin', the surgeon’s warnin'

I write a prescription just for meth abusers

Regulate your dose intake for heavy users

For generations, I been servin' these rap fiends

Babies born addicted to the metric, know what I mean?

You’re recoverin', but you still use frequently

So wet your court hearin', judge show some leniency

Can’t escape old habits, so you copy the new shit

Wit' your kids in your cars, see, pumpin' that Wu shit

We worldwide, supply and demand, I got the upper-hand

Check my passport, global support

Informant lands non-commercial goods, that raw and uncut

That got them breakin' bad at the gate for the re-up

What up, Street?

Yo, what up, man?

We gon' put some «Welcome to the meth lab» on there

Man, you know, it’s straight gutter shit, nigga

Yeah, you ready to get 'em this time?

Yeah, always, man

Alright, so I’m a leave it up to you

Go 'head, show 'em what you got