Method Man I Get My Thang In Action

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Niggas wanna test my stees,

Nigga please,

I black that eye like peas

You better freeze

In ya tracks

A Wu-Tang (bzzz) killerbee's on ya back

I comes for the honey plus the phat money sack

You want it all? Yeah I want it all like THAT

I stab my own moms in the back for a stack

Niggas like damn, why youwant it like that?

'Cause I'm a dog, and I got no love for the cat

Attitude's cold like the north polar cap

Where I do my dirt a little further down the map

A little buck wildin Island called Stat

Where niggas carry gats in they black hoody hat

Now I'm mad known for the bones and the rap

And youse an unknown with a phoney contract

Wake up and smell the method, motherfucker, contact

fallin' in a cypher from a fallen head crack

An indian giver and I'm out to take it back

Shaolin Island, baby where you at?

A runaway train that be runnin' on ya track

That's how it's goin' down Yeah, it's goin' down like that


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Busta Rhymes Scenario

I think this is the joint that really put Bus on. Personally, I knew something ridiculous was about to transpire from the tone of his voice when he first started to rhyme "I heard you rushed and rushed, AND ATTACKED." Not to mention the fact that he dropped rambunction in the flow. How many cat's really drop words like rambunction in flows, especially back then. What's real, whether it is thin, dreaded up Bus, swole, kickng cats in the head Bus, or pudgy, big belly Bus, long live Busta Rhymes.

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Watch, as I combine all the juice from the mind

Heel up, reel up, bring it back, come rewind

Powerful impact BOOM! from the cannon

Not braggin, try to read my mind just imagine

Vo-cab-u-lary's necessary

When diggin into my library

Oh my gosh! Oh my gosh!

Eating ayea toadstool like the one Peter Tosh-a

Uh, uh uhh, alone with the track man

Uh, pardon me, uhh, as I come back

As I did it yo I heard you beg your pardon

When I travel to the Sun I roll with the squadron

RRRRRROAW RRRRRRROAW like a dungeon dragon

Change your little drawers cause your pants are saggin

Try to step to this, I will, fits you in a turban

And had you smellin right, like some old stale urine

Checkady-choco, the chocolate chicken

The rear cock diesel, for chicks they were kickin

Yo, bustin out before the Busta bust a nut the rhyme

The rhythm is in sync (UHH!) the rhymes are on time (TIME!)

Rippin up this dance just like a radio

Observe the vibe and check out the scenario!!!!

Yeah, my man motherfucker!

Check The Vid!

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GhostFace Killah Run 4 Cover

Yo, this MadHater, and I'm pissed off Sun, word up. This being my first post on this SteelBarz sh*t, i'm gonna start off with Ghostface Killah. Don't nobody spit like Ghost spit. I still don't know what the f*ck he's talking about, but don't nobody spit like Ghost, kid!!!! Yo, his flow, delivery, energy all that- these cats can't F*ck with Ghost Sun, real talk.

Hear That Sh*t B!!!!

Straight out the gate, meet Tony

Don of all dons, behind New York King Tut wit one arm

Banana Nut Crunch last cinnamon toast with power rose

Whips dirty, dustin my bitch, FUCK PAROLE!

Peace out his Wallee Timb's, wild out (wild out)

We in the spot, guns go off though

Came out his mask it was Ollie North

Oh shit, what up what up Ghost

Congratulations on your new flick

Burn it dead who max the most

Word up you got the most Clarks

Bravehearts spin this

For under come down in the pale he need minutes

Told y'all before I kick doors off the hinges

Ain't no cooler and there ain't no Guiness

Money like Barry Blue, Keanu Reeves wit bench slippers

Play the PGA Tour wit Jack Nicklaus

Statues of Mary, gats that bust mercury

Sit through the biggest storm and hand out turkey!

Rock-Ness Operation Lockdown

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Who wan test y'all?

Mr. Mall-Doo, a.k.a. Rock-Ness y'all

Guard your chest y'all

Nothing can protect y'all

(From who?) From Buckshot on down to the Reps y'all

We runnin through your set y'all

Fuck the rest y'all, we be the best y'all

Yesh yesh y'all

I crack backs North South East and West y'all

With no stress y'all

I deep do I guess y'all

Got ancestors in deep sets I never met ya'll

Ready to wet y'all

Place your bottom dollar bets y'all

Chest boards become messed boards if you flex y'all

Nevertheless y'all

We out to save the shit before it's dead y'all

Lock it down with the full court pressure!!!!

Bizzy Bone Thug Luv

If you are unlike myself and can actually keep it with Bizzy Bone, and are able to decipher just exactly what the fuck it is that he is saying half of the time, then you are already aware that he is one of the sickest MOFO's to ever rhyme. That's it!!!!!!

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Well I must be close to the Armageddon lord you know

That I won't fly that lesson you taught me to pull out my wesson you brought

And am I stressing it softly get 'em up off me cause all

We wanted was harmony been bombing 'em yell up outta my ghetto

I want settle get on my level they can't

Stop me or drop me nigga they got me fuck naw

Little Pac get schizophrenic and manage to damage all y'all

I'll talk about 'em and you don't really want it

Cause they're cornered and I want 'em to jump up

I'd rather say that we came to shut 'em all down

So quick to test bullet yes declare war

Roll and I'll blow when I get the gun for the murder mo' horror

For what the did it all pause for the cause and I

Fin to pull a nine or pistol little nigga wit mine fuck dem niggas it's on

All y'all fall Bizzy gettin bitches test me bless the floor

In any attempt to arrest me stress me lord

Looking at death with the last of my breath

Follow follow my kids but don't sin in my steps

Yet the weapon is kept with the best of my secrets

Deep in the leaves I'm alone nigga believe

That I can see it if needed an if you really want me in

Well let it be and get the greens and be runnnin up over Cleveland

IllStyle

Eve EVE Double R What

As Ruff Ryders 1st and only lady, Eve has proven to be one of the most fierce female MC's ever. Her soft voice mixed with her ferocious street attack secured her title as the pitbull in a skirt. But in my opinion, cats need to start sticking to the original script. Ever since her somewhat successful run on her own short lived UPN sitcom, it seems she that she hasn't been rapping the same. Or it that we just hear her differently now? Whatever it is, she is not the same Eve that ripped cats a new asshole on several tracks. She used to be that ghetto ryde or die chick, now she's a pretty girl, is that a good thing? From "What Y'all Want" to "Tamborine," lyrically she is still that business, but will the real Eve please stand up?



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I'm a savage bitch


Ain't nobody gettin' close to this


And ain't nobody flipped and wrote the shit


And can't nobody sit and coach this shit


You feelin' lucky? then aproach me, shit


I'm like the glass, you just the coaster bitch; Under me!


You wanna make it ugly, can't do nothin' 'bout it


Angry at the public, buggin' me


Rat bitch, pot bitch, hungover hot bitch


Wantin' all that money, fuckin' gettin' all that rock, shiiit


Scared of who? huh, we goin' get rid of you


Climbin' the walls wit' gimmicks, that shit is pitiful


Dawgs close by me, so why try me


They wan' cop me but they too sloppy


Damn, I gotchu stuck in a box


You feelin' trapped, got your stomach in knots


'Cause I ain't lettin' goI keepin' it locked


I know you gettin' mad 'cause your luck's up


Plus I'm a purebread, baby, I don't fuck with mutts


Come on!

Ludacris The Potion

I got mad love for many southern MC's, but what moves most just doesn't do it for me. I'm trying to figure out exactly when a cats swagger became more important than what he has to say. Speaking the realest of that real street shit means nothing as far as MCing is concerned if an artist is not good at it. That's where Ludacris comes in. Cris does not claim to be something is not on any track, and lyrically, will give it to any MC from any coast, set, hood, project, crew, camp, team, unit, squad, or any other slick ass term we can fabricate to represent our groups. What's real, stop swinging from the balls of these cats with these lazy, drunk flows and calling them the coldest in the game because they can pull a few punch lines out of their ass. That's only a fraction of what we call this Hip-Hop shit. Give credit to the real mouths of the South.

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Only stand 5 '8, but still a big shot

Plus i got a big {cock}

Clean every day, stay fresher then whats in a zip-lock

Tell your man to kick rocks,

when i make my pit stops

Im in, then its hard to get me out like im a slipnot

Born to be a leader and not, no not a follower

Only hang with chicks that got more twist then Oliver

Not much of a hollerer

but i like to borrow her

Lips bringin out the best in me, specially if shes a swollower

Freaky deaky yellow man,

and im sayin hello man

To all the lovely ladies that like to jiggle like jello man

Bigger booty, small waist, put em' in a small place

And if aint no ass where I'm at then im in the wrong place

Bail like a bondsman, but keep em dancin

Got pop potential stay black like Bob Johnson

Who the hell is that in that fancy car

Tell your momma im a Ghetto Superstar

IllStyle