Testo della canzone Y.O.U. (Method Man & Redman), tratta dall'album Blackout! (Explicit Version)

Y.O.U. - Method Man & Redman

Traces of lipstick on my collar
Baby you got to do some more to get this last dollar
Hotter than lava when you come believe that I'ma follow
Lady Madonna like to drink but she don't like to swallow
Rockin' that product, honey stay up in the beauty parlor
Girl, it would be my honour, make you my baby momma

Holler she hella proper, fuck with tha dumbin' cousin
Sucker for lovin'-buggin', shockin' them duckin' buckin'
Suckin' then finger-fuckin', then let me show you somethin'
I'll knock that stuffin' off that English muffin
Can't tell me nothin', uh-uh
Pushin' yo' panic button in when I'm stuckin'
All of a sudden, baby gun-duckin', BBC!
Ooh, girl, you nasty

Yo' I get it on poppin'
Doc, unlockin' yo' doors, clockin' my drawers
Sockin' your mouth with a torn stockin'
Wrapped around ya noggin', I'm creepin' when you parkin'
Shoot out the lights, darken, the area, then hop in
Pick up my bigger nigga who helped me figure out the plottin'
Droppin' the tops, splittin' the dough
Shoppin' in rotten, New York, first flockin'
Because I'm heavy like Bo stockin' coat

Watch ya coat from Fo sparkin', dearly departed niggas
Unforgetable can be forgotten
Doc and Meth album enterin' the top ten
Choppin' it raw, lockin' and blockin'
Only raw choppin', it's metaphores, so cops can stop watchin'
I put 'em in and cock 'em, ready to rock 'em stock 'em
Renevate your appartment, when these two things barkin'
My Mackamichi knockin'
Bougie hoes be spottin' on they tampons
I get 'em drippin' like leaky faucets

Now who a bitch nigga?
(Now who a snitch nigga?)
Now who the shit nigga?
(Now who the sick nigga?)
Now who you with nigga?
(With who you with nigga?)
Who rock shit nigga?
(Who pop shit nigga?)

Come on! (Come on!)
Come on! (Come on!)
Come on! (Come on!)
Come on! (Come on!)
Come on! (Come on!)
Come on! (Come on!)
Come on! (Come on!)
Come on! (Come on!)

I figured it out, ya'll niggas ain't as big as your mouth
My street value, well, it won't even fit in your couch
When I bust titties come out
No matter what city hardcore committee's dumb to fuck out
Son should duck out
Nothin' to lose, poppin' a two up in your goose
Buckle your shoes, scuff on my boots, fuckin' with you
Blow my Anaconda like Nirvana
Marijuana got bitches on they knees in they Gabbanas

Gettin' 'em dirty, dirty with the hersey and the bombin'
Holla the drama, fire two in your armor
Your pigeon better call ma, the ice is a honour
Twin help me lift an arm up, lebaba with ya momma
Even dirty her donna, my dick is heronomic
Pull out a young Geroni-mo, BBC
Ooh, girl you nasty

Itchin' to start the mission, flippin' so keep yo' distance
Ain't got no pot to piss in? Ain't got no competition
Listen, I slip the clippin', trippin' you get me lippin'
Come miss and catch a whippin', now kids is actin' different
Ditchin' them double-dippin', chickens that keep forgettin'
I ain't the one for trickin', or anybody-kickin'
Rippin' these compositions, scrippin' them paper-written
Hold 'em and hit 'n' stickin', ballin' like Scottie Pippen
It's hot in Hell's Kitchen, but still I'm frost bittin'
Shittin' like, no he didn't', wipin' my ass and splittin'
Chattin' like Joe gettin'

All in the zone settin' it off like Big Daddy
It ain't no half-steppin', I keep reppin'
Staten you keep sweatin', frontin' and ass-bettin'
Duckin' my Smith & Wesson, trashin' the Meth and catchin'
Hell, we leave you restin' in peace BBC
Ooh girl you nasty

Now who the bitch nigga?
(Now who the snitch nigga?)
Now who the shit nigga?
(Now who the sick nigga?)
Now who you with nigga?
(With who you with nigga?)
Who rock shit nigga?
(Who pop shit nigga?)

Come on! (Come on!)
Come on! (Come on!)
Come on! (Come on!)
Come on! (Come on!)
Come on! (Come on!)
Come on! (Come on!)
Come on! (Come on!)
Come on! (Come on!)



Credits
Writer(s): Ali Shaheed Jones-muhammad, Kamaal Ibn John Fareed, Reggie Noble, Malik Taylor, Ronnie Foster, Clifford M Smith, Erick S Sermon
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