(Bus driver! This here gal refused to give me her seat!)
Until the flow hit you,
Fuck it, I'm official,
Bone wit more gristle,
Throwin' from chrome nickel,
Place that don't tickle,
Can't wait to zone with you,
I'm hard as stone chisel,
Meth got his own little formula to go triple,
Fo shizzle,
Ya'll know my occupation,
I'm puttin' in my words,
So any imitation,
I'm puttin' in the dirt,
That shit is aggravatin',
Why ya'll procrastinatin'?
I got some massive waitin',
And she prolly masturbatin',
Welcome to New Yitty,
Where half is two-fitty,
If I got a problem then that's one problem too many,
So don't tip me,
I bust until I'm empty,
Swiftly, that way I get a chance to take you with me,
Motherfucka!
[Chorus]
Verse 3:
Yo I got style,
8 track round,
back up and back down,
Act up we back clown,
Last up to bat now,
It's me Ticallion,
Swing like Barry Bonds,
Mami got a ratty thong,
Happy cause Daddy gone,
Turn it up a lil' bit,
a notch and it'll get,
Cook it with the griddle and it'll get so hot,
Good lookin' kid,
Okay now where was I,
Prepared was I,
Your man broke his jaw tryin' to say what I,
Say on this mic,
Not a day in ya life could ya,
Say I ain't nice could ya,
Say I ain't nice would ya,
Get off my dick and tell ya bitch to c'mere,
She stuntin',
Can hear me cummin' like my dick's in her ear or somethin',
I put that on my mama,
She put that on her kids,
She put that chrome on ya dome and blow ya fuckin' wig,
That's how it is,
Ask Bobby Digs,
We back on ya block,
With 'nuff shots to give,
Motherfucka!
[Chorus x2]

Lyrics to / for Uh-Huh by Method Man.
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