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It's In The Game Lyrics - Singles - Method Man

You know I'm bout it bout it 

What? Huh? 

You know 

Huh? 

It's like, you don't limit yourself to one thing 

Your mama 

Got to broaden your horizons 

Broaden your joints 

Keep your eyes on the prize 

The struggle goes on 

Eryday (ha ha, ha ha, ha ha, ha ha) 

Eryday 

And I'ma live it through my music 

(ha ha, ha ha, ha ha, ha ha) 

You know how we do 

Choose or lose from it 

 

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One: Method Man 

 

Pull your shoes up, don't get stuck 

or get your frame struck, when my squad blitzin 

hittin like Mack trucks, head splittin paper written 

in windy cities like Chicago, no bullshhhh 

You see me spittin at the kitten with the lost mitten 

As we engage in cold war gettin frostbitten 

Once again up in these stank drawers baby listen 

One mind and for one cause, heavy hittin 

The penalty illegal ruffnecks, we bring ruckus 

in pursuit of gold lines, can a nigga touch it 

If I can't see ya can't truss it 

A shady character like Buzz Buzzard 

Lay him out like a plush rug-ged 

*mimicking Brand Nubian* Now you can love it, or leave it alone 

We drink death and puff bone 

Draggin your body out the end zone 

And any way the wind blow that's where you flow 

That's why you be the first one caught, last to know 

Body layin out on the flo', substitute 

Heavy players from the run and shoot, we open do' 

Third and long, quarterback pack the cannon on 

I go deep he drop bombs, *whistle* that's when I touch-down 

Six points, what now? 

Once again who comin through in the clutch now, perfect strangerous 

Ever since I came with this, and wrecked a body 

You convinced like Lombardi, that Johnny Dangerous 

Offensive shotgun 

Calm in the pocket I got one, in the milli gun 

Deep threats to chose from, that's how it goes son 

You win some you lose some, it's in the game 

 

Photos 

 

You win some you lose some (uhh!) that's how it goes son (yeah) 

You win some you lose some (uhh!) it's in the game ... (yeah) 

You win some you lose some, that's how it goes son 

You win some you lose some, it's in the game 

 

Two: Ricky Watters 

 

From the football field 

(It's in the game 

You win some you lose some, it's in the game) 

To the mountain, yaknowhatI'msayin? 

(That's how it goes son, that's how it goes 

You win some you lose some, it's in the game) 

 

Freestylin, profilin, won't catch me smilin 

Straight from Fema Island, buckwhylin, I'm stylin 

A funky type of style with the lyrical incision 

Shit locked down, like my niggas out in prison 

Good riddance, keep it hidden, up in my knapsack 

Sippin cognac, while I vibe off this funky track 

Yo bring it back, or make it hit harder 

Infiltrate your mind like Nino at the Carter, but smarter 

So drop harder, if you wanna conjugate 

Verbs and nouns, make it profound as I pound 

In your earpiece I'm the beast 

To say the least, we must increase, the peace 

But keep it real, so I can feel, the skills 

Funky fresh rhymes I will build so I kill 

and thrill, lyrics spittin, through my lips 

Doin backflips, it's another hit 

Come take a sip, of the running Watters 

Lyrically I slaughter, mentally I author 

the rhymes that you feel to the map 

Crushin double barrels, sing em out like carols 

Who it be? It be I, the nigga with the chinky eyes 

From NY, city we committee we gets busy 

With killa beez on the swarm 

Lyrically we storm, mentally a lord 

Verbally I bomb (boom!), guard your grill 

It's the man that chill, run for the hills from Grassvile 

Drillin rhymes straight on tracks and double cuff 

Another TV, and they loved it 

 

(You win some you lose some, that's how it go son 

You win some you lose some, that's in the game 

You win some you lose some, that's how it go son 

You win some you lose some, that's in the game 

It's in the game 

You win some you lose some, it's in the game 

It's in the game, it's in the game, it's in the game, it's in the game) 

Writer:

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