Math Hoffa vs. Method Man [Lyrics]

[Round 1: Math Hoffa]
When the hate don’t work, they start tellin’ lies
Still the revolution will be televised
Storms comin’, can’t adjust the skies
When we gon’ praise the truth, and just diss lies?
Which side do you reside on in Justice eyes?
You on the fuck shit or Justice side?
How ’bout we just decide?
‘Cause it’s no love for over there, just this side
And we justified, ’cause every timе we wanted justice, it was just dеfied!
Now we wear masks
Social distance, keep ’em far from me
It ain’t odd to me
‘Cause that’s exactly how we move during them robberies
I’m a warrior, could walk through a desert…never get thirsty
Like these bloggers, doin’ story after story on this Newark bi- Jersey
They told me, “Milk the game for the cheese, ’cause the cream’ll make you legendary.”
But I can get it out of town…’All I Need’ is the Meth and Mary
Niggas very scary, they know I keep the weapon near me
Two .8s or two .9s
Leap? Yeah (Year) – month of February!
Try it, God! Guns, soundin’ off…kung fu dialogue!
I bomb on niggas and kill a crowd, like it’s for a higher cause!
My punches will cut yo’ winnin’
Cut him ’til it’s nothin’ in him
Bring out the chick inside (chicken)
That’s what my temper do (Perdue)
Tyson crush your rib in
I’ll pile it on like a Stove Top, and knock out all the stuffing in him!
Why kill him slow?
Chris Rivers flow: I’m still Pun-ishin’ him!
I religiously buy guns by the size of what the weapon is
He gon’ need Jesus if I bap this (Baptist) wherever Method is (Methodist)
My gun connect, bless the kid
You see how I’m flexin’?
Understand the Power of God is in this .357
BOW! The side block
You can’t trap, beat Math ‘matics (mathematics)
Must’ve been a Wu-Tang track
Let’s stick to the facts: you don’t got bars like that
You my man, Tical, but you don’t be goin’ off like that
Keep it real? I ain’t even goin’ hard like that
‘Cause if I Bring the Pain, Charlamagne: you don’t wanna see the (C Tha) God like that
Yeah, it’s on like that…
Hoffa!

[Round 1: Method Man]
I guess you curious, if Meth get furious
Math throwin’ punches at the Wu? Get serious (Serius)
Have a sparring session vs. the Iron Lung, that’s what you wanna do?
Lookin’ for credit on Method, you’ll see Smiths (C. Smith’s) in front of you
You must be off a bad pill…steppin’ on a landmine…
I’ll bury you in a landfill: that’s two Hoffas they can’t find
You done lost yo’ damn mind, or you straight twisted, dawg
I’m from Staten, when cops swarmed in, we let them pistols off
When Park Hill had to eat, the street is how I hit them scores
Machete out, I’m a Genius
I caught a lick wit’ (Liquid) Swords
Blade on your neck
You a legend? Let me say my grace, then
Y’all the new Blood? Suckas!
Well, this is Daylight Savings
Time I take (h)ours back
Y’all just perfected our bounce
Keep it a milli’, Math, these stakes too high for checkin’ the count
Now i’m s’posed to play
I’m a boss, I ain’t gotta tote the ‘K
I tell my Killa Beez, “Roll up on this herb…while I smoke a J”
Headshot! Now your features all over your projects like Ghost and Rae!
Respect a Don!
I was poppin’ Hollows before he even stepped to John
I’m dope for real
You gon’ need a clinic to see what Method on (methadone)
My name heavy, a legend, but you already knew
Your chick be like, “Meth, I loved your style ever since Belly, boo”
She shootin’ her shot, Hype, when your broad send me nudes
Slide her X on some Keisha
Nah, she on telly moves
And The Game that I got will have me slidin’ up in her belly, too (Belly 2)
This Method, baby
I love battle rap and respect it crazy
But y’all really think y’all big (B.I.G.) on the scene? Y’all should be gettin’ Gravy
That cash rule everything around me: C.R.E.A.M. hit
If playing games is your goal, then I (GoldenEye) will leave your screen split
I’m reppin’ for my crew
Remember, we not jokes
Y’all really wanna F wit’ the Wu (Woo)? Rest in Peace…Pop Smoke
Hot quotes, all you need to get respected by the Clan
You a Stan, driving off a bridge to Em’ – you overstand?
Now How High did you get? I’ll burn the essence of a man
Once these tarot cards was read, man (Redman)…your death was in my hands
Wu-Tang love the kids…and Meth don’t give a damn
Staten!

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