Blackout Lyrics

from Blackout! (with Method Man)

"Blackout" is track #2 on the album Blackout! (with Method Man).
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"Blackout" is track #2 on the album Blackout! (with Method Man).
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It's Funk Doc where da weed at, bitch?
I speed back wist, down to one way from cops
See thas' shit? Believe thas' shit!
Slaughter straight to camcorder, I'm too hot for TV
Back draw water

My windpipes attached to project-ballers
You yell, "Turn the heat down!"
My voice, divi-di-round-sound, some heard round town
And chances are y'all leavin', round now

Wait later, will make Funk page paper
Date Raper with Juveline 8th Graders
Hit the High School at 187 Caesar
When I bust y'all need to back 4 acres

Doc y'all and that's my man JabberJaw
The shit list ready, who next to scratch off?
I'm from the underground, my sound lib
Platform shoes to bitches, 400 pounds!

Get up stand up, back up, push up
Jump up, act up
To make you feel it
Stick 'em, stick 'em, say stick 'em, stick 'em

Yo' blackout, shoot out smoked out move out
Even knock ya tooth out
To make y'all feel it
Stick 'em, stick 'em, say stick 'em, stick 'em

Now I'm the streettalkin', dogwalkin'
Approach me with extreme caution, oh now you frocin'
My hand that rock yo' cradle often I'm hot-scorchin'
But stone cold like Steve Austin

If you smell what Tical cookin', ain't tryin' to see central bookin'
So till ya gon' stop lookin', know what you did last summer?
So I started hookin', you past shookin'
Offer open can of ass-whoopin'?

Ain't no tomorrow's in the Method's Little Shop Of Horrors
Go ask your father who the father from the Hill to Harbor
You know tha saga, marijuana blunts and Goldschlager
With deadly medley, y'all ain't ready for Shakwon and Reggie
Don't even bother

To radio for back-up
Alright then, ya man got slapped up extorted for his icin'
Street life is triflin', body over here
Nigga pull a Tyson and bite a nigga' ear
Precisin', slicin' juggerless the cut-crew

Ruggeder, Predator, Viking, ex cetera
People's champ, niggaz be takin' off competitors
Reachin' for the microphone, relax and light a bone
Straight from the Catacombs the Children Of The Corn
That don't got a clue, prepare for desert storm!

Get up stand up, back up, push up
Jump up, act up
To make you feel it
Stick 'em, stick 'em, say stick 'em, stick 'em

Yo' blackout, shoot out smoked out move out
Even knock ya tooth out
To make y'all feel it
Stick 'em, stick 'em, say stick 'em, stick 'em

I scored 1.1 on my SAT
And still push a whip with a right and left AC
Gorilla, Big Dog, if my name get called
I'm behind the brick wall with arsenic jars

Spit poison, got a gun permit draw
Gun down at Sundown you keep score!
This training course and y'all ain't fit
On my crew tombstone put, 'We All Ain't Shit'

Yo', all you gonna be, wanna be when will you learn?
Wanna be Doc and Meth? Gotta wait ya turn
I spit a .41 revolver on New Year's Eve
With the mic in my hand I mutilate M C's

The most slept on since Rip Van Wink
My shit stink with every element from A to Zinc
So what you think? I'm a blackout on just one drink?
You must be crazy! A little off the wall maybe go get a shrink

Get up stand up, back up, push up
Jump up, act up
To make you feel it
Stick 'em, stick 'em, say stick 'em, stick 'em

Yo' blackout, shoot out smoked out move out
Even knock ya tooth out
To make y'all feel it
Stick 'em, stick 'em, say stick 'em, stick 'em

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