Meth vs. Chef Method Man (Ft. Raekwon)

[Intro]
Your skill's worthy of a general
If you want to fight, fight with me!
One to one! Man to man!

[Interlude: Lounge Lo (Raekwon)]
Let's get ready to yell, team!
Live and direct from the One-Six-Ooh
We got Tical, pow! Raekwon the Chef, Tical!
It's about to go on, Tical
You make the call, I make the call
It's all for all
Method Man, Raekwon the Chef
(Count my shells)
And there's about to be one left
(Count my shells, nigga)
I know you know it's on kid
(Bring that shit, I don't give a fuck!)

[Verse 1: Method Man]
Who lit that shit it was I the chinky eye
Chiba-hawk from New York, Tical Staten Isle
Niggas thought, that they could walk a dog but they caught
A bad situation 'cause I'm a sandwich short
Of a picnic 'cause you ain't equipped with the sickening
Style, blowing up the spot like ballistic
Missiles, I be coming through like the four-nine-three-eleven
Tearing up the Power-U, Meth-Tical
A bad motherfucking buddha monk, what the fuck
Hit your chest like cardiac arrest, blow the front
Out the frame, hit the pussycat for the pain
Of the dog shit, nobody move, run your garments
A rugged vet, durable like a Champion sweat
Wrap a power in a tec, to wet
A nigga up with all the dangerous diseases
Sniffling, sneezing, coughing, aching, stuffy head fever
Fucker, I think it's 'bout time that you suffer
Bobbing on my knob like an all-day sucker
Bitch!