Do What Ya Feel Lyrics - Method Man

Yeah, follow 

Just do what ya feel and I'ma follow 

I'ma follow 

Just do what ya feel and we gon' follow 

Just do what ya feel and I'ma follow 

Just do what ya feel and I'ma follow 

Ha, ha, meth tical 

Who wanna flip with the acrobatic 

From ground zero all the way to attic? 

Where we be smokin' tical 

The reservoir is now open 

I swim the English Channel, backstrokin' 

You don't know me or my style 

We hold court and blow trial 

You catch Cal 

When you browse through my x files 

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Who be next now? Man's down, hands down 

Hold ground by your side when it go down 

I dedicate this next dart to my fucking heart 

Little Meth pea, the best part 

Now walk with that one 

Word, time, time for sum action, dreamin' ' bout Toni Braxton 

Blowin' her back out like Bob Backlund, I'm throwin' wrestling holds 

Tag team with Funk Doc, we in funk mode 

Take yo' best shot 

If it don't hip, it don't hop 

If it don't quit, it don't stop 

That's the life 

I be the super lyrical individual 

I be splittin' through that Teflon material 

To knock Big Ben off of schedule 

Better move with a set of tools 

I be doin' it to mics when I'm a heterosexual 

Photos 

I load the mic then cock, drop it like three quarters 

When I slaughter, don't get caught in the water 

'Cause the brick's got it's own world order 

Leave your bitch in shock like the third rail caught her 

Styles stay deeper than Orca 

I float the seven seas with ease 

Did more drugs than pharmacies 

So call me that lyrical genovese 

You can't compare 

Get you steppin' like stairs, frats, sororities 

Don't make me bring it on back 

I fuck up the majority 

Of niggaz lookin' hard at me, I port 'em like authority 

And when my nigga, Meth, shine 

Out the inner how high mobile 

Rollin' three dimes at a time 

Redman and Method Man still 

It's that Jersey representer 

Get hit from the bottom to your head when you enter 

Word 

Just do what ya feel and I'ma follow 

Just do what ya feel and I'ma follow 

Just do what ya feel and I'ma follow 

Funk Doc, break it down 

Yo, suck my dick out of animosity 

The velocity will fly that head and freeze your camps like pottery 

To give lobotomies to all you rap colonies 

And shut your million dollar investment, to economy 

Impossibly, might be the one in black leather 

Name tag sayin' 'Caution when wet by the track wetter' 

The hash spreader, I love the grimy shit 

Even my girl did grimy shit to me and I went back with her 

Three years for carrying a loaded handgun 

But it's forever when a nigga 

And he lands one to your cranium 

That red dot on your forehead 

It's not 'cause you're Arabian 

Watch what you say to him 

You're caught up in a tight situation 

I should start erasin' your whole organization 

For makin' wack tunes 

While my whole platoon rock the basement 

You couldn't come close if I gave you my bookin' agent 

Or producer, royalty points, twelve shot loaded Luger 

Even a crowd to get you souped up, you're still wack 

I peel caps, on the regular, destroy MCs, etcetera 

Creep like the predator 

Fuck you, your label moms and your editor 

Give you two to the jugular 

Blood be spreadin', all on my shirt 

The king of the flirt, shittin' 

Bitches hit me off more than new edition 

I make the pig's heart skip a beat 

From the steel physique 

So iron lung 

Get on the mic and break 'em off a somethin', somethin' 

We moonshine and grow crops 

Purchasin' the handhelds with the sure shots 

It got me spittin' these slugs at my competition 

In rap sessions 

You ain't be got no weapon, you lip professin' 

Next in line, parental discretion advised 

These explicit, street linguistics 

Better than yo' momma biscuits, we bomb shellin' 

I might know but ain't tellin', too bad you missed it 

Johnny, dangerously blaze 

Another enemy made, another due paid 

Color-safe bleach so I don't fade 

Scar your mental with my double edged blade 

Razor sharp, get yo' Band Aids, hold that 

Like he said, get the bozack 

Show them wack niggaz where the dough's at 

On the case like I'm Kojak 

Kissin' the grits on that flo', bitch 

Flip scripts, take long shits 

Raider ruckus 

One, I come with premeditated red rum 

Gingivitis to your filthy ass gums 

Bottom line, either get down or get done, motherfucker