[Lauryn (Method Man)]
Yeah yeah, yeah yeah yeah
Yeah, yeah yeah, yeah yeah yeah
Yeah (Yeah)
Yeah yeah (Yo)

[Method Man]
Damn, I hate it when it rain
Ever since I came in the game
Some hated on the fame
A lot of ni**as done changed
And started actin` strange
Even labels turning they backs
And started backing lames
Radio is the same, whole lotta speculatin`
These mutherf**kas defacatin` on the name
Wu-Tang, if this is where the hip-hop is
Radio lyin` then, that ain`t where hip-hop live
It lives in the streets, we eat to live they livin` to eat
I`m fed up, that ni**a rides in `em, givin `em sleep
R.I.P., make me the king of all I see
And when death call I`m good I got call ID
See it was planned in the front, now they just gon` front
Like my joints is on proactive, and they just don`t bump
Then ni**as gon` say I lost my skill
when in fact they all been programmed
And lost they feel, fo` real

[Chorus: Lauryn (Method Man)]
They`ve got so much things to say right now
They`ve got so much things to say
They`ve got so much things to say right now (Yeah)
They got so much things to say (Yo)

[Method Man]
Damn, another artist chokes again
They ain`t cut as close as him or even broke the skin
See how ni**as ain`t yo friends, when there ain`t no ends
Don`t care who the case offend, don`t underrate my pen
I got what it takes to win, while ya`ll are thinking I`m trash
Loving the taste of success and this drink in my glass
Watch `em cosign that whack s**t, give it a pass till it`s gone
Quicker than Red, can`t get rid of them clubs
When they`re wrong, call the cops, they credibility`s shot
It`s time to learn, what hot really is and really is not
Off brain ni**as, Meth gonna let `em know off top
Don`t get smacked on dvds, trying to show off blocks
I can`t stop cause my enemies plot, or cause the cops want me
Shackled and locked inside the penalty box
And while they waitin` for my s**t to flop
They gettin` pimped like hoes
Sellin` they ass just to get my spot, come on man

[Repeat Chorus]

[Method Man]
Ask Miss Hill, half these critics ain`t got half this skill
Often so hungry that they have to steal
If I didn`t have my deal, and didn`t have this mass appeal
Then I`m back up in that trap, swingin` crack it`s real
And that ain`t worth the time, so search and find a new nerve
And here`s three words: stop working mine
It take a lot more to hurt my pride
Jerk my vibe more than media lies, cry when dirt dog die ni**a
The last album wasn`t feeling my style
This time my foot up in they ass but they feelin` me now
Cause Tical, he put his heart in every track he do
But somehow yall find someway to give a whack review
It ain`t all good, they writin` that I`m Hollywood
Tryin` to tell you my s**t ain`t ghetto and they hardly hood
Come on man, until you dudes can write some rhymes
Keep that in mind when you find yourself reciting mines

[Repeat Chorus]