They Say

[Verse 1: Method Man]
Damn, I hate it when it rain
Ever since I came in the game
Some hated on the fame
A lot of niggas done changed
And started actin' strange
Even labels turning they backs
And started backing lames
Radio is the same, whole lotta speculatin'
These mutherfuckas defacatin' on the name
Wu-Tang, if this is where the hip-hop is
Radio lyin' then, that ain't where hip-hop live
It lives in the streets, we eat to live they livin' to eat
I'm fed up, that nigga rides in 'em, givin 'em sleep
R.I.P., make me the king of all I see
And when death call I'm good I got call ID
See it was clan in the front, now they just gon' front
Like my joints is on proactive, and they just don't bump
Then niggas gon' say I lost my skill
When in fact they all been programmed
And lost they feel, fo' real

[Hook: Lauryn Hill]
They've got so much things to say right now
They've got so much things to say

[Verse 2: CL Smooth]
Like I'm givin you your last rites, when you see my face
All you're lookin at is stars and stripes
With three-fourths of the drug law
So now you know why we build with bricks, they build with straw
Against the mark of the beast
Cause sometimes men must fight wars to truly have peace
Hear to conquer valleys of foreign soil
'til you show me all your hidden weapons and fields of oil
I'm sendin in troops, heavy press want the inside scoop
I'm like mums the word up in this coop - oversee that God
When they move that quick
Admire my swag to use it as a measuring stick
I paid my dues, why we can't lose, plus I refuse
To let 'em stagnate the growth of my blues
The pattern of me is sign no statements, cop no plea
In what can only be American Me

[Hook]

[Verse 3: Method Man]
Ask Miss Hill, half these critics ain't got half this skill
Often so hungry that they have to steal
If I didn't have my deal, and didn't have this mass appeal
Then I'm back up in that trap, swingin' crack it's real
And that ain't worth the time, so search and find a new nerve
And here's three words: stop working mine
It take a lot more to hurt my pride
Jerk my vibe more than media lies, cry when dirt dog die nigga
The last album wasn't feeling my style
This time my foot up in they ass but they feelin' me now
Cause Tical, he put his heart in every track he do
But somehow yall find someway to give a whack review
It ain't all good, they writin' that I'm Hollywood
Tryin' to tell you my shit ain't ghetto and they hardly hood
Come on man, until you dudes can write some rhymes
Keep that in mind when you find yourself reciting mines

[Hook]

[Boondocks Sample]
I'm gonna take you down
Unless I take you down first
"Unless I take you down first"
Is that the best you can do?
Shut up, punk!