Fire Ina Hole Lyrics - Blackout! (with Redman) - Method Man

Come on, come on, state your business 

Come on, let's make it hot 

Come on, word, let's make it hot 

Come on, let's make it hot 

Come on, let's make it hot 

Hardcore, to make them brothers act fools 

Come on, come on 

With all due respect to the game, I'm the P H enom 

Not ready for prime time beyond, extinction 

Change your way of thinkin' or begone 

Fast the fuck out, somethin' stinkin' 

Could it be the skunk or could it be that body in the trunk 

Of my Lincoln? Continental style pop the pussy like a pimple 

I'm fed up, I put it in your ear and fuck ya head up 

Turnin' up the temperature, hold them kids that entered 

The 36th, master mix shit, bio-hazardous, pretentious 

Do it for the chemically imbalanced 

State your business, pay me at the door 

Iron Man, hear me roar on twelve inches 

Shell shocked soldier in the trenches 

Fire in the hole game commences 

Third string rappers play the benches, reload 

There'll be no repentance for souls just life sentence 

With no chance for parole and that's real 

Fire ina hole, yo, fire ina hole 

Fire ina hole, fire ina hole 

Fire ina hole, fire ina hole 

Fire ina hole, fire ina hole 

Fire ina hole, fire ina hole 

Fire ina hole, fire ina hole 

Fire ina hole, fire ina hole 

Yeah, yeah, yeah, yo, yo, yo, gun downed at sundown 

Run now from the bucks sound, touchdown 

Your crew wanna punt now? Punk blaow 

Swimmin' trunks torn up from the hunt down 

Brakes lock 'em up now, a rich bitch knock 'em up now 

A plucked out eyebrow gal 

Naw, dawg, a broad got to be a huzzy 

A hood rat that ride like the bride of Chucky 

Walk through my hood, your jewels they scream, "Tug me" 

Mind revolve' to reload like a SCSI 

Doc, da bigfoot out for da squosh 

Shell shocked like I'm six months in the bush 

Fire ina hole, hikin' in the snow 

With forty motherfuckers expirin' the globe 

Footprints of timbs and wallabee soles 

We case the place like Barnaby Jones, Homes 

Lay it down like plats in ya hair 

Ride off withcha money, then clap in the air 

Fire ina hole, fire ina hole 

Yo, fire ina hole, fire ina hole 

Fire ina hole, fire ina hole 

Yo, fire ina hole, fire ina hole 

Yo, fire ina hole, yo, yo, yo 

This is for dem niggaz on da bricks holdin' down they block 

For my nigga Carlton Fisk, a kid who stay up in the box 

Ain't no Christmas ever since Santa scratched my name 

Off the gift list, shit ain't been the same since the pain 

No forgiveness, dead man talkin' 'bout he lifted 

I'm livid, hands around the throat of a critic 

Yo, Doctor, prescribe me a drug that can knock 

A mule on his ass, take the blast out Binaca 

For real doe, arsenic production that kill slow 

Your eardrums like a happy hooker with a dildo 

I spas on anyone who show his ass 

I got the mob with me plus a full tank of gas 

Yo, yo when me and Meth swarm 

You need a net to cover you 

Turn the rap game into W C W 

Off the rope I hang glide to the throat 

Straight beef without French Fries and a Coke 

Doc's da name, da burglar, I serve ya 

The lethal 5 from Riggs and Murtoch 

Then skart out my whip with ran down tires 

With a chicken I met who hand out fliers 

Look, I'm an Aries, I don't have it 

My crew large enough to walk and cause traffic 

Bounce like box springs on your kraftmatic 

Before you be suin' Doc for malpractice 

You couldn't bang from start, your girl see you 

Beat up and shit, get a change of heart 

Flaming darts is spittin', name the mark 

My impact tore JFK plane apart 

Fire ina hole, fire ina hole 

Fire ina hole, fire ina hole 

Fire ina hole, fire ina hole 

Fire ina hole 

Fire ina hole, fire ina hole 

Fire ina hole, fire ina hole 

Fire ina hole, fire ina hole 

Fire ina hole 

Yo, yo, yo, fire ina hole, yo, yo, yo, yo, yo 

Mr. Meth, Funk Doctor, Mathematics, on the track 

For my niggaz in Da Bricks, for my niggaz on Shaolin 

Worldwide to my whole crew, P P C 

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