| Song | Well All Rite Cha |
| Artist | Method Man |
| Album | Blackout! |
| Download | Image LRC TXT |
| 作词 : Noble, Sermon, Smith | |
| Hydro indo(Buddha) | |
| Hah cocoa yo, ya ya yo | |
| I need some brown weed(Lady) | |
| All dayI need some brown weed(Jenny) | |
| I need some cut(Lady, lady) | |
| Now these doors don't open, til after dark(Owoo) | |
| And it ain't 'til twelve 'til the party really starts(Yo, me and my crew had to be in by ten) | |
| Right before the fun was about to begin | |
| Yo yo, one bitten jabberjaws tryin' to taste the | |
| Paper written kids be bullshittin' | |
| I see they flaws | |
| Too many rebels not enough cause for me to pause(Haha) | |
| Them broads love my shitty drawers the finest | |
| Criminal minded put my life behind it you niggaz | |
| Find it hard to swallow poison in the bottle(She too sexy) | |
| So I gotta watch you fast bitches too many tricks | |
| That can give a dick a bad sickness | |
| Yo, yo yo son excuse me?(Yo) | |
| I'm tryin' to earn a million buck or two | |
| The ill MC step in(And who the fuck are you?) | |
| Doc start walkin' bumpin' | |
| M.O.PTo catch a nigga gettin' gassed, puttin' ten on three(Da ruckus) | |
| With the mic | |
| I blast men on sight | |
| So off the hook | |
| Atlantic, | |
| Bell had to go on strike | |
| Doc did it metaphors come kitted | |
| Twenty-twenty vision comes tinted from being so high(So high) | |
| So high so high | |
| Air it out | |
| Iron lung | |
| I be the street soldier ante up | |
| Pull them panties up, party's over, in the cut | |
| Slappin' grudges offa niggaz shoulder bringin' ruck | |
| Like them wild cats at | |
| Villanova hot as fuck | |
| Duke or sober suave bowler soul controller | |
| Of the universe stole a colder than cola | |
| Caps grab your hoodie hat island of stat' | |
| Keep them cats runnin' for they gat, in stormy weather | |
| Gats, right hook, uppercut swollen how | |
| I left your eye | |
| Stage dived, made a mistake, kicked | |
| F.O.IAiyyo hoe doc be keepin a dope show like | |
| MarilynManson the handgun be stashed in the panelling | |
| Jersey drop son watch me whip it like midget | |
| Diggin' in that whole plate and piss on your picnic(Don't nobody move) | |
| Don't nobody start flinchin' | |
| Limo driver roll up the fuckin' partition | |
| Who them niggaz that be rollin' them | |
| Thai, high as a kite? | |
| Gettin' pussy all nite(Well all rite cha) | |
| Yeah yeahWell who them cats you can call on, when you wanna brawl?(Get drunk as hell) | |
| And so on(Well all rite cha) | |
| Yo yoIs funk doc up in the house?(Well all rite cha) | |
| Yo yoHot nix up in the house?(Well all rite cha) | |
| Bricks to stat' hold it down(Well all rite cha) | |
| Yo yo(Mad dick up in your mouth)(Hah, all nite cha) | |
| Yo tical's and doc did it before, | |
| I'll do it again | |
| Snatch spark to the ignition, | |
| I'm screwin' it in(Aiyyo we out!) | |
| Six drop in ten seconds, what? | |
| I'll be the first one on the floor at your wedding reception | |
| B boys gather around and act p noid | |
| Bring the trouble | |
| T roy, to earlobes, keyloid(Terminator two) | |
| Doc after | |
| Sarah conn' | |
| For the barrel bonds(Am I on?) | |
| Tical, you're on | |
| Uhh uhh on, uhh uhh on | |
| Uh uh uh uh uh, uh uh on | |
| Got these slim pickin's on my | |
| Charles Dickens | |
| I pack a Mac | |
| To make your back stiffen flip the script | |
| I act different | |
| The eyeball keep your distance warning y'all you don't listen | |
| Bitchin' over shit you ain't gettin' | |
| So finally puttin' in work the big hurt | |
| MC with a social disease and get it first | |
| Enemies feel my energies four centuries of anger | |
| Remember me?(The field nigga) | |
| Too ghetto fabulous rza, sharp, and hazardous | |
| Figure with bad habit can't hold his liquor | |
| Speed like a millipede(Hot nix-on) | |
| Contemplate the non-fiction on loose leaves | |
| Paragraphs, hundred degrees, my pen bleed(Ha) | |
| Showin' you the pain | |
| I feel from holdin' these | |
| Black thoughts, deep rooted, nowadays | |
| They come with batteries included, in wicked ways | |
| Who them niggaz that be rollin them thai, high as a kite? | |
| Gettin pussy all nite(Well all rite cha) | |
| Yeah yeahWell who them cats you can call on, when you wanna brawl?(Get drunk as hell) | |
| And so on(Well all rite cha) | |
| Yo yoIs funk diggy in the house?(Well all rite cha) | |
| Yo yoMeth diggy no doubt(Well all rite cha) | |
| Bricks to stat' hold it down(Well all rite cha) | |
| Yo yoMad dick up in your mouth(All nite cha) | |
| Cha cha cha cha cha cha cha cha | |
| Cha cha cha cha cha cha cha cha | |
| Cha cha cha cha cha cha cha cha... |
| zuo ci : Noble, Sermon, Smith | |
| Hydro indo Buddha | |
| Hah cocoa yo, ya ya yo | |
| I need some brown weed Lady | |
| All dayI need some brown weed Jenny | |
| I need some cut Lady, lady | |
| Now these doors don' t open, til after dark Owoo | |
| And it ain' t ' til twelve ' til the party really starts Yo, me and my crew had to be in by ten | |
| Right before the fun was about to begin | |
| Yo yo, one bitten jabberjaws tryin' to taste the | |
| Paper written kids be bullshittin' | |
| I see they flaws | |
| Too many rebels not enough cause for me to pause Haha | |
| Them broads love my shitty drawers the finest | |
| Criminal minded put my life behind it you niggaz | |
| Find it hard to swallow poison in the bottle She too sexy | |
| So I gotta watch you fast bitches too many tricks | |
| That can give a dick a bad sickness | |
| Yo, yo yo son excuse me? Yo | |
| I' m tryin' to earn a million buck or two | |
| The ill MC step in And who the fuck are you? | |
| Doc start walkin' bumpin' | |
| M. O. PTo catch a nigga gettin' gassed, puttin' ten on three Da ruckus | |
| With the mic | |
| I blast men on sight | |
| So off the hook | |
| Atlantic, | |
| Bell had to go on strike | |
| Doc did it metaphors come kitted | |
| Twentytwenty vision comes tinted from being so high So high | |
| So high so high | |
| Air it out | |
| Iron lung | |
| I be the street soldier ante up | |
| Pull them panties up, party' s over, in the cut | |
| Slappin' grudges offa niggaz shoulder bringin' ruck | |
| Like them wild cats at | |
| Villanova hot as fuck | |
| Duke or sober suave bowler soul controller | |
| Of the universe stole a colder than cola | |
| Caps grab your hoodie hat island of stat' | |
| Keep them cats runnin' for they gat, in stormy weather | |
| Gats, right hook, uppercut swollen how | |
| I left your eye | |
| Stage dived, made a mistake, kicked | |
| F. O. IAiyyo hoe doc be keepin a dope show like | |
| MarilynManson the handgun be stashed in the panelling | |
| Jersey drop son watch me whip it like midget | |
| Diggin' in that whole plate and piss on your picnic Don' t nobody move | |
| Don' t nobody start flinchin' | |
| Limo driver roll up the fuckin' partition | |
| Who them niggaz that be rollin' them | |
| Thai, high as a kite? | |
| Gettin' pussy all nite Well all rite cha | |
| Yeah yeahWell who them cats you can call on, when you wanna brawl? Get drunk as hell | |
| And so on Well all rite cha | |
| Yo yoIs funk doc up in the house? Well all rite cha | |
| Yo yoHot nix up in the house? Well all rite cha | |
| Bricks to stat' hold it down Well all rite cha | |
| Yo yo Mad dick up in your mouth Hah, all nite cha | |
| Yo tical' s and doc did it before, | |
| I' ll do it again | |
| Snatch spark to the ignition, | |
| I' m screwin' it in Aiyyo we out! | |
| Six drop in ten seconds, what? | |
| I' ll be the first one on the floor at your wedding reception | |
| B boys gather around and act p noid | |
| Bring the trouble | |
| T roy, to earlobes, keyloid Terminator two | |
| Doc after | |
| Sarah conn' | |
| For the barrel bonds Am I on? | |
| Tical, you' re on | |
| Uhh uhh on, uhh uhh on | |
| Uh uh uh uh uh, uh uh on | |
| Got these slim pickin' s on my | |
| Charles Dickens | |
| I pack a Mac | |
| To make your back stiffen flip the script | |
| I act different | |
| The eyeball keep your distance warning y' all you don' t listen | |
| Bitchin' over shit you ain' t gettin' | |
| So finally puttin' in work the big hurt | |
| MC with a social disease and get it first | |
| Enemies feel my energies four centuries of anger | |
| Remember me? The field nigga | |
| Too ghetto fabulous rza, sharp, and hazardous | |
| Figure with bad habit can' t hold his liquor | |
| Speed like a millipede Hot nixon | |
| Contemplate the nonfiction on loose leaves | |
| Paragraphs, hundred degrees, my pen bleed Ha | |
| Showin' you the pain | |
| I feel from holdin' these | |
| Black thoughts, deep rooted, nowadays | |
| They come with batteries included, in wicked ways | |
| Who them niggaz that be rollin them thai, high as a kite? | |
| Gettin pussy all nite Well all rite cha | |
| Yeah yeahWell who them cats you can call on, when you wanna brawl? Get drunk as hell | |
| And so on Well all rite cha | |
| Yo yoIs funk diggy in the house? Well all rite cha | |
| Yo yoMeth diggy no doubt Well all rite cha | |
| Bricks to stat' hold it down Well all rite cha | |
| Yo yoMad dick up in your mouth All nite cha | |
| Cha cha cha cha cha cha cha cha | |
| Cha cha cha cha cha cha cha cha | |
| Cha cha cha cha cha cha cha cha... |
| zuò cí : Noble, Sermon, Smith | |
| Hydro indo Buddha | |
| Hah cocoa yo, ya ya yo | |
| I need some brown weed Lady | |
| All dayI need some brown weed Jenny | |
| I need some cut Lady, lady | |
| Now these doors don' t open, til after dark Owoo | |
| And it ain' t ' til twelve ' til the party really starts Yo, me and my crew had to be in by ten | |
| Right before the fun was about to begin | |
| Yo yo, one bitten jabberjaws tryin' to taste the | |
| Paper written kids be bullshittin' | |
| I see they flaws | |
| Too many rebels not enough cause for me to pause Haha | |
| Them broads love my shitty drawers the finest | |
| Criminal minded put my life behind it you niggaz | |
| Find it hard to swallow poison in the bottle She too sexy | |
| So I gotta watch you fast bitches too many tricks | |
| That can give a dick a bad sickness | |
| Yo, yo yo son excuse me? Yo | |
| I' m tryin' to earn a million buck or two | |
| The ill MC step in And who the fuck are you? | |
| Doc start walkin' bumpin' | |
| M. O. PTo catch a nigga gettin' gassed, puttin' ten on three Da ruckus | |
| With the mic | |
| I blast men on sight | |
| So off the hook | |
| Atlantic, | |
| Bell had to go on strike | |
| Doc did it metaphors come kitted | |
| Twentytwenty vision comes tinted from being so high So high | |
| So high so high | |
| Air it out | |
| Iron lung | |
| I be the street soldier ante up | |
| Pull them panties up, party' s over, in the cut | |
| Slappin' grudges offa niggaz shoulder bringin' ruck | |
| Like them wild cats at | |
| Villanova hot as fuck | |
| Duke or sober suave bowler soul controller | |
| Of the universe stole a colder than cola | |
| Caps grab your hoodie hat island of stat' | |
| Keep them cats runnin' for they gat, in stormy weather | |
| Gats, right hook, uppercut swollen how | |
| I left your eye | |
| Stage dived, made a mistake, kicked | |
| F. O. IAiyyo hoe doc be keepin a dope show like | |
| MarilynManson the handgun be stashed in the panelling | |
| Jersey drop son watch me whip it like midget | |
| Diggin' in that whole plate and piss on your picnic Don' t nobody move | |
| Don' t nobody start flinchin' | |
| Limo driver roll up the fuckin' partition | |
| Who them niggaz that be rollin' them | |
| Thai, high as a kite? | |
| Gettin' pussy all nite Well all rite cha | |
| Yeah yeahWell who them cats you can call on, when you wanna brawl? Get drunk as hell | |
| And so on Well all rite cha | |
| Yo yoIs funk doc up in the house? Well all rite cha | |
| Yo yoHot nix up in the house? Well all rite cha | |
| Bricks to stat' hold it down Well all rite cha | |
| Yo yo Mad dick up in your mouth Hah, all nite cha | |
| Yo tical' s and doc did it before, | |
| I' ll do it again | |
| Snatch spark to the ignition, | |
| I' m screwin' it in Aiyyo we out! | |
| Six drop in ten seconds, what? | |
| I' ll be the first one on the floor at your wedding reception | |
| B boys gather around and act p noid | |
| Bring the trouble | |
| T roy, to earlobes, keyloid Terminator two | |
| Doc after | |
| Sarah conn' | |
| For the barrel bonds Am I on? | |
| Tical, you' re on | |
| Uhh uhh on, uhh uhh on | |
| Uh uh uh uh uh, uh uh on | |
| Got these slim pickin' s on my | |
| Charles Dickens | |
| I pack a Mac | |
| To make your back stiffen flip the script | |
| I act different | |
| The eyeball keep your distance warning y' all you don' t listen | |
| Bitchin' over shit you ain' t gettin' | |
| So finally puttin' in work the big hurt | |
| MC with a social disease and get it first | |
| Enemies feel my energies four centuries of anger | |
| Remember me? The field nigga | |
| Too ghetto fabulous rza, sharp, and hazardous | |
| Figure with bad habit can' t hold his liquor | |
| Speed like a millipede Hot nixon | |
| Contemplate the nonfiction on loose leaves | |
| Paragraphs, hundred degrees, my pen bleed Ha | |
| Showin' you the pain | |
| I feel from holdin' these | |
| Black thoughts, deep rooted, nowadays | |
| They come with batteries included, in wicked ways | |
| Who them niggaz that be rollin them thai, high as a kite? | |
| Gettin pussy all nite Well all rite cha | |
| Yeah yeahWell who them cats you can call on, when you wanna brawl? Get drunk as hell | |
| And so on Well all rite cha | |
| Yo yoIs funk diggy in the house? Well all rite cha | |
| Yo yoMeth diggy no doubt Well all rite cha | |
| Bricks to stat' hold it down Well all rite cha | |
| Yo yoMad dick up in your mouth All nite cha | |
| Cha cha cha cha cha cha cha cha | |
| Cha cha cha cha cha cha cha cha | |
| Cha cha cha cha cha cha cha cha... |