“…I’ll be d*mned if this ain’t some sh*t
Come to spread the butter lyrics over hominy grit
It’s the low killer death trap, yes I’m a jet black ninja
Comin where you rest at, surrender
Step inside the ring, yous the number one contender
Lookin cold booty like your p*ssy in December
Aggin stop b*tchin, button up ya lip and
From Method all you gettin is a can of *ss-whippin
Hey, I’ll be kickin, you son, you doin all the yappin
Actin as if it can’t happen
You front and got me mad enough to touch somethin
Yo I’m from Shaolin, Island, and ain’t afraid to bust somethin
So what cha want aggin, ya punk aggin”
I got a six-shooter and a horse named Trigger
It’s real, ninety-four, rugged raw
Kickin down your god damn door.
— Method Man on Notorious B.I.G.’s “The What”
The hallowed drums, the back-peddling guitar, the milky silk smoothed-out cool of fluid verses from a Meth-and-BIG pour spout…there’s just something about this song. It backs into an easy three-point parallel park between “Best” and “Hip-Hop” and puts its two cents in the “Sh*t Ever” meter.
And this verse is wild to me.
Method Man is without question my favorite featured-verse rhymesayer. I always thought he spit most viciously over other people’s tracks, even if it was someone else in his crew. Probably his most redeeming quality is he doesn’t try to outshine the other artist. You can damn near hear the other dude in the booth shaking his head while Meth spits, blunted & laughing while knowing he now has to come with something sweet to compete with the Ticallion Stallion.
Were I to rap (probably the best hypothetically-speaking game to play on a morning commute) I’d have “featuring Method Man” after every song title, if I had the loot to get him. Hypothetically speaking, Wu-Tang would be the first and only stop I’d make for snagging guest appearances. But, hypothetically speaking, Ghost would probably only weird-up the track beyond my ability to play along. And, hypothetically speaking, if I had Raekwon on a verse my album might suffer OB4CL2 status and never come out.
So there I’d hypothetically be with Meth; blunted, laughing, knowing I’d have to come with something sweet. Knowing he even made the greats like Biggie stronger.