I scored 1.1 on my SAT,
And still push a whip with a right and left AC.
Now what Clan you know with lines this ill?
Bust shots at Big Ben, like we got time to kill.
Niggas is decaf, I stick ‘em for the C.R.E.A.M.
I’m your Mr., you my Mrs. with hugs and kisses,
Valentine cards and birthday wishes?
Please…be on another level of planning, of understanding
The bond between man and woman and child.
The highest elevation, cause we above
All that romance crap, just show your love.
It’s a cold world, better pack your own heat.
I call my brother ‘Sun’ cause he shine like one.
Fuck you, losers. While you fake jacks, I makes maneuvers.
There are few things that’s forever, my lady.
We can make war or make babies.
Microphone checka, swingin’ sword lecture,
Closin’ down the sector, supreme neck protector.
– Method Man, “Da Rockwilder,” from Meth and Red’s Blackout, 1999
My peoples: if you with me where the fuck you at?