[Intro: Method Man]  16th Chamber, temple number five    [Method Man]  Somebody said it's on, if it is then I'll be set  To blow a nigga up, with my Five Fingers of Death  I bring it to his whole damn fam, understand  If he frontin, on any man down with the Clan  I be comin, for that headpiece you can't cope  For my brother, I even kill a Pope, word to mother  Serial, killa, style from the Isle of Stat  My peoples are you with me where you at?  Shit's gettin deep in here, I mean like thick  Niggaz lookin all in my face like they want dick  It's about to hit the fan, hit the flo'  That's all I can stands, and I can't stands no mo'  What is it? Niggaz think they bigga  Because they got the finga on the trigga of a biscuit  They don't know I'm wicked, when I start to kick it  With the raw sound, wash it down with a Mystic  Better yet a Snapple, nigga want the juice  But he don't want the hassle  Thought they trying to overthrow the castle  Better yet the temple, I'm comin to your town  Black down, the rental, car, the pistol  YAH! If you don't want a burn from glock  Then beware, I buck shots, meaning what, the buck stops  Here, no more dough will be made  Unless it's being made by who... the 1-6-Ooh    [Interlude: Raekwon (Method Man)]  Chamber four (1-6-Ooh) Chamber four  Temple number nine, temple number nine    [Ol' Dirty Bastard]  I'm the original G-O-D  Making young ladies scream is my specialty  when I go ooh-wah, ooh-wah, ooh-wah, girls wanna get hype  From the funky fresh music that was stereotyped  When I kill, that ol' mad rugged flow  Not sayin Ason, is like a duck of disco  Or a disco duck, I'm strictly hip hop  Yo, Ason, what's up? I can't stop...  Wu-Tanging, flipping the script and  You could test my skills, but niggaz must be trippin  Coked up from sniffin, you're the one who's riffin  I'm not Opie, save that old shit for Andy Griffith  You start to flip, now ya slip, cuz you're slippin  While you sleep I be the God on point, like Scottie Pippen  As I, jump on stage, cold flip a rip a show  Strip or rip a hoe, ready like Bo  Jackson while I'm still taxin, I'm maxin  Relaxin, sittin backs and, laying tracks and  Again and again when I rock this jam  I wanna see 'em up in the air, throw up your hand  Introducin, the one-man band  A child that's wild, now with the style, couldn't stand  Niggaz wanna jump, then stepped, to the center  Of the rhyme inventor, MC tormentor  You get jacked and slapped, across the MC map  I laugh at ya ass, on a horse shack  Come on through I black and blue your whole crew  Then I get rudie with the Hong Kong Phooey  The Ol' Dirty Bastard, MC killer  Money maker, Brooklyn, Shaolin style  That I lay down like tile  Gotta hit you up, one blaow, so you better come down...