Yeah, torture, motherfucker, what? (Torture, nigga, what?)
What?
I'll fuckin, I'll fuckin' tie you to a fuckin' bedpost
With your ass cheeks spread out and shit, right?
Put a hanger on a fuckin' stove
And let that shit sit there for like a half hour
Take it off and stick it in your ass slow like, "tsss"

Yeah, I'll fuckin'
Yeah, I'll fuckin' lay your nuts on a fuckin' dresser
Just your nuts layin' on a fuckin' dresser
And bang them shits with a spiked fuckin' bat (ooh)
What's up, blaow

I'll fuckin', I'll fuckin' pull your fuckin' tongue out your fuckin' mouth
And stab the shit with a rusty screwdriver, blaow (I'll fuckin')
I'll fuckin', I'll fuckin' hang you by your fuckin' dick
Off the fuckin twelve story building out this motherfucker

I'll fuckin', I'll fuckin' sew your asshole closed
And keep feedin' you, and feedin' you, and feedin' you, and feedin' you

Yo, yo, roll the dice, man, roll the dice
Yo, so it's going down like that, huh? Yeah?

From the slums of Shaolin, Wu-Tang Clan strikes again
The RZA, the GZA, Ol' Dirty Bastard, Inspectah Deck, Raekwon the Chef
U-God, Ghostface Killah and the Method Man

M-E-T-H-O-D Man
M-E-T-H-O-D Man
M-E-T-H-O-D Man
M-E-T-H-O-D Man

Hey, you, get off my cloud
You don't know me and you don't know my style
Who be gettin' flam when they come to a jam?
Here I am, here I am, the Method Man
Patty cake, patty cake, hey, the Method Man
Don't eat Skippy, Jif or Peter Pan
Peanut butter, 'cause I'm not butter
In fact, I snap back like a rubber
Band, I be Sam, Sam I am
And I don't eat green eggs and ham
Style'll hit ya, wham, then goddamn
You'll be like, "oh shit, that's the jam"
Turn it up, now hear me get buckw-w-wild
I'm about to blow, light me up
Upside, downside, inside and outside
Hittin' you from every angle, there's no doubt
I am the one and only Method Man
The master of the plan, wrappin' shit like Saran
Wrap, with some of this and some of that
Hold up (what?) I thought I thaw a putty cat
Over there, but I think he best to beware
Of the diggy dog shit right here
Yippy-yippy-yeah, yippy-yah, yippy-yo
Like Deck said, this ain't your average flow
Coming like rah ooh-ah achie kah
Tell me how ya like it so far, baby paw
The poetry's in motion, coast to coastin'
Rub it on your skin like lotion
What's the commotion? Oh my Lord
Another cord chopped by the Wu-Tang sword
Hey, hey, hey, like Fat Albert
It's the Method Man, ain't no if ands about it
It's the Method

Alright, y'all, get your White Owls
Get your Meth, get your skins
Don't forget your forty
And we gonna do it like this

I got fat bags of skunk
I got White Owl blunts
And I'm about to go get lifted
Yes, I'm about to go get lifted

I got myself a forty
I got myself a shorty
And I'm about to go and stick it
Yes, I'm about to go and stick it

Uh
H-U-F-F, huff and I puff
Blow like snow when the cold wind's blowing
Zoom, I hit the mic like boom
Wrote a song about it, like to hear it? Here it goes
Question, what exactly is a panty raider?
Ill behaviour, savior or major flavor?
All of the above, oh yeah, plus seducer
Also flam, I'm the man, call me super
Not an average Joe with an average flow
Doing average things with average hoes
Yo, I'm super, I'll make a bitch squirm
For my super sperm (check it)
Check it, I give it to you raw, butt naked
I smell sess, pass the Method
Let's get lifted as I kick ballistics
Missles and shoot game like a pistol
Clip is loaded, when I click, bang, bang
A Wu-Tang slug hits your brain
J-U-M-P, jump and I thump
Make girls rumps like pump and Humpty Hump
Wow, the Shaolin style is all in me
Child, the whole damn isle is calling me
P-A-N-T-Y R-A-I-D-E-R, mad raw, I don't cry
Meaning no one can burn or toss and turn me
Ooh, I be the super sperm
Chim-chimney-chim-chim-cherie
Freak a flow and flow fancy free
Now how many licks does it take
For me to hit the Tootsie Roll center of a break?
Beat and don't sleep the crews mad deep, Wu-Tang
Fading motherfuckers like bleach
So to each and every crew
You're clear like glass, I can see right through
You're whole damn posse be catchin' 'em all 'cause you vic'd
And ya didn't have friends to begin with
I'm

The M-E-T-H-O-D Man
M-E-T-H-O-D Man
M-E-T-H-O-D Man
Here I am, here I am, the Method Man

Straight from the slums of Shaolin
Wu-Tang Killa Beez on a swarm
Your soul hath just been tooken through the 36 chambers of death, kid)

Word to mother, Method Man signing off, peace

Copyright: BMG Rights Management, Downtown Music Publishing, Peermusic Publishing, Universal Music Publishing Group
Writer(s): Clifford Smith, Corey Woods, Dennis David Coles, Gary E. Grice, Jason Hunter, Lamont Hawkins, Robert F. Diggs, Roger Troutman, Russell T. Jones