Lauryn Hill: Say

Feat - Method Man[Lauryn] & [Method Man]Yeah yeah, yeah yeah yeahYeah, yeah yeah, yeah yeah yeahYeah (Yeah)Yeah yeah (Yo)[Method Man]Damn, I hate it when it rain Ever since I came in the gameSome hated on the fameA lot of niggas done changed And started actin' strangeEven labels turning they backs And started backing lamesRadio is the same, whole lotta speculatin' These mutherfuckas defacatin' on the nameWu-Tang, if this is where the hip-hop isRadio lyin' then, that ain't where hip-hop liveIt lives in the streets, we eat to live they livin' to eatI'm fed up, that nigga rides in 'em, givin 'em sleepR.I.P., make me the king of all I seeAnd when death call I'm good I got call IDSee it was planned in the front, now they just gon' frontLike my joints is on proactive, and they just don't bumpThen niggas gon' say I lost my skillwhen in fact they all been programmedAnd lost they feel, fo' realChorus: [Lauryn](Method Man]They've got so much things to say right nowThey've got so much things to sayThey've got so much things to say right now (Yeah)They got so much things to say (Yo)[Method Man]Damn, another artist chokes againThey ain't cut as close as him or even broke the skinSee how niggas ain't yo friends, when there ain't no endsDon't care who the case offend, don't underrate my penI got what it takes to win, while ya'll are thinking I'm trashLoving the taste of success and this drink in my glassWatch 'em cosign that whack shit, give it a pass till it's goneQuicker than Red, can't get rid of them clubsWhen they're wrong, call the cops, they credibility's shotIt's time to learn, what hot really is and really is notOff brain niggas, Meth gonna let 'em know off topDon't get smacked on dvds, trying to show off blocksI can't stop cause my enemies plot, or cause the cops want meShackled and locked inside the penalty boxAnd while they waitin' for my shit to flop They gettin' pimped like hoesSellin' they ass just to get my spot, come on manRepeat ChorusAsk Miss Hill, half these critics ain't got half this skillOften so hungry that they have to stealIf I didn't have my deal, and didn't have this mass appealThen I'm back up in that trap, swingin' crack it's realAnd that ain't worth the time, so search and find a new nerveAnd here's three words: stop working mineIt take a lot more to hurt my prideJerk my vibe more than media lies, cry when dirt dog die niggaThe last album wasn't feeling my styleThis time my foot up in they ass but they feelin' me nowCause ???, he put his heart in every track he doBut somehow yall find someway to give a whack reviewIt ain't all good, they writin' that I'm HollywoodTryin' to tell you my shit ain't ghetto and they hardly hoodCome on man, until you dudes can write some rhymes Keep that in mind when you find yourself reciting minesRepeat Chorus