[{"id":31691847,"name":"Bring The Pain","trackName":"Bring The Pain","artistName":"Method Man","albumName":"Bring The Pain","duration":190.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Basically\nCan't fuck with me\n\nI came to bring the pain hardcore from the brain\nLet's go inside my astral plane\nFind out my mental, based on instrumental\nRecords, hey, so I can write monumental\nMethods, I'm not the king\nBut niggas is decaf, I stick 'em for the cream\nCheck it, just how deep can shit get\nDeep as the abyss and brothers is mad, fish accept it\n\nIn your Cross Colour clothes, you've crossed over\nThen got Totally Krossed Out and Kris Krossed\nWho the boss? Niggas get tossed to the side\nAnd I'm the dark side of the Force\nOf course it's the Method, Man from the Wu-Tang Clan\nI be hectic, and comin' for the head piece, protect it\nFuck it, two tears in a bucket\nNiggas want the ruckus\nBustin' at me, bruh, now bust it\n\nStyles, I gets buckwild\nMethod Man on some shit, pullin' niggas files, I'm sick\nInsane, crazy, driving Miss Daisy\nOut her fucking mind, now I got mine, I'm Swayze\n\nIs it real, son, is it really real, son?\nLet me know it's real, son, if it's really real\nSomething I could feel, son, load it up and kill one\nWant it raw deal, son, if it's really real, yeah, uh\n\nWhen I was a likle stereo (stereo)\nI listen to some Champion (Champion)\nI always wondered (wondered)\nWhen I will be di number one (Tical)\nAnd now yuh listen to di Gorgon (Gorgon)\nAnd a Gorgon sound a Rein\nAn' any jump and come tes' mi (test me)\nMi a-go lick out dem brain (it's like that)\n\nBrothers wanna hang with the Meth, bring the rope\nThe only way you'll hang is by the neck\nNigga, bolt off the set, comin' to your projects\nTake it as a threat, better yet it's a promise\nComin' from a vet on some old Vietnam shit\nNigga, you can bet your bottom dollar, hey, I bomb shit\nAnd it's gonna get even worse, word to God\nIt's the Wu comin' through, stickin' niggas for they garments\n\nMovin' on your left, southpaw, Mr. Meth\nCame to represent and carve my name in your chest\nYou can come test, realize you're no contest\nSon, I'm the gun that won that old Wild West\nQuick on the draw with my hands on the four-\nNine-three-eleven with the rugged rhymes galore\nCheck it, 'cause I think not when this hip-hops like proper\nRhymes be the proof while I'm drinkin' 90 proof\n\nHuh, vodka, no OJ, no straw\nWhen you give it to me, ayy, give it to me raw\nI've learned that when you drink Absolut straight it burns\nEnough to give my chest hairs a perm\nI don't need a chemical blow to pull a ho\nAll I need is Chemical Bank to pay the roll\n\nWhat, basically that, Meth-Tical, '94 style\n(Northern spicy brown mustard hoes, word up, we be hazardous)\nWe have to stick you\n\nIs it real, son, is it really real, son? (Motherfucker, I'll fuckin')\nLet me know it's real, son, if it's really real\nSomething I could feel, son, load it up and kill one\nWant it raw deal, son, if it's really real\n\nI'll fuckin', I'll fuckin' cut your kneecaps off\nAnd make you kneel at some staircase, piss\nI'll fuckin' cut your eyelids off and feed you nothin' but sleepin' pills\nGet yours, motherfucker\nSo fuck the ho, fuck the ho","syncedLyrics":"[00:00.19] Basically\n[00:02.61] Can't fuck with me\n[00:04.66] I came to bring the pain hardcore from the brain\n[00:07.76] Let's go inside my astral plane\n[00:09.56] Find out my mental, based on instrumental\n[00:11.76] Records, hey, so I can write monumental\n[00:14.19] Methods, I'm not the king\n[00:15.82] But niggas is decaf, I stick 'em for the cream\n[00:18.22] Check it, just how deep can shit get\n[00:20.64] Deep as the abyss and brothers is mad, fish accept it\n[00:23.68] In your Cross Colour clothes, you've crossed over\n[00:25.93] Then got Totally Krossed Out and Kris Krossed\n[00:28.31] Who the boss? Niggas get tossed to the side\n[00:30.62] And I'm the dark side of the Force\n[00:32.43] Of course it's the Method, Man from the Wu-Tang Clan\n[00:35.29] I be hectic, and comin' for the head piece, protect it\n[00:37.77] Fuck it, two tears in a bucket\n[00:39.46] Niggas want the ruckus\n[00:40.69] Bustin' at me, bruh, now bust it\n[00:42.43] Styles, I gets buckwild\n[00:44.07] Method Man on some shit, pullin' niggas files, I'm sick\n[00:47.16] Insane, crazy, driving Miss Daisy\n[00:49.56] Out her fucking mind, now I got mine, I'm Swayze\n[00:51.64] Is it real, son, is it really real, son?\n[00:53.76] Let me know it's real, son, if it's really real\n[00:56.24] Something I could feel, son, load it up and kill one\n[00:58.30] Want it raw deal, son, if it's really real, yeah, uh\n[01:01.57] When I was a likle stereo (stereo)\n[01:03.67] I listen to some Champion (Champion)\n[01:06.02] I always wondered (wondered)\n[01:08.48] When I will be di number one (Tical)\n[01:10.76] And now yuh listen to di Gorgon (Gorgon)\n[01:13.21] And a Gorgon sound a Rein\n[01:15.63] An' any jump and come tes' mi (test me)\n[01:17.82] Mi a-go lick out dem brain (it's like that)\n[01:20.07] Brothers wanna hang with the Meth, bring the rope\n[01:22.50] The only way you'll hang is by the neck\n[01:24.19] Nigga, bolt off the set, comin' to your projects\n[01:26.80] Take it as a threat, better yet it's a promise\n[01:29.03] Comin' from a vet on some old Vietnam shit\n[01:31.44] Nigga, you can bet your bottom dollar, hey, I bomb shit\n[01:33.78] And it's gonna get even worse, word to God\n[01:35.95] It's the Wu comin' through, stickin' niggas for they garments\n[01:38.44] Movin' on your left, southpaw, Mr. Meth\n[01:40.70] Came to represent and carve my name in your chest\n[01:43.10] You can come test, realize you're no contest\n[01:45.62] Son, I'm the gun that won that old Wild West\n[01:47.89] Quick on the draw with my hands on the four-\n[01:50.15] Nine-three-eleven with the rugged rhymes galore\n[01:52.52] Check it, 'cause I think not when this hip-hops like proper\n[01:55.42] Rhymes be the proof while I'm drinkin' 90 proof\n[01:57.63] Huh, vodka, no OJ, no straw\n[02:00.29] When you give it to me, ayy, give it to me raw\n[02:02.57] I've learned that when you drink Absolut straight it burns\n[02:05.46] Enough to give my chest hairs a perm\n[02:07.34] I don't need a chemical blow to pull a ho\n[02:09.62] All I need is Chemical Bank to pay the roll\n[02:12.46] What, basically that, Meth-Tical, '94 style\n[02:16.41] (Northern spicy brown mustard hoes, word up, we be hazardous)\n[02:18.79] We have to stick you\n[02:21.26] Is it real, son, is it really real, son? (Motherfucker, I'll fuckin')\n[02:23.49] Let me know it's real, son, if it's really real\n[02:25.54] Something I could feel, son, load it up and kill one\n[02:27.99] Want it raw deal, son, if it's really real\n[02:30.52] I'll fuckin', I'll fuckin' cut your kneecaps off\n[02:34.96] And make you kneel at some staircase, piss\n[02:38.46] I'll fuckin' cut your eyelids off and feed you nothin' but sleepin' pills\n[02:54.31] Get yours, motherfucker\n[03:01.16] So fuck the ho, fuck the ho\n[03:05.06] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Bring The Pain\n  artist: Method Man\n  album: Bring The Pain\n  duration_ms: 190000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Basically\n  start_ms: 190\n  end_ms: 2610\n- text: Can't fuck with me\n  start_ms: 2610\n  end_ms: 4660\n- text: I came to bring the pain hardcore from the brain\n  start_ms: 4660\n  end_ms: 7760\n- text: Let's go inside my astral plane\n  start_ms: 7760\n  end_ms: 9560\n- text: Find out my mental, based on instrumental\n  start_ms: 9560\n  end_ms: 11760\n- text: Records, hey, so I can write monumental\n  start_ms: 11760\n  end_ms: 14190\n- text: Methods, I'm not the king\n  start_ms: 14190\n  end_ms: 15820\n- text: But niggas is decaf, I stick 'em for the cream\n  start_ms: 15820\n  end_ms: 18220\n- text: Check it, just how deep can shit get\n  start_ms: 18220\n  end_ms: 20640\n- text: Deep as the abyss and brothers is mad, fish accept it\n  start_ms: 20640\n  end_ms: 23680\n- text: In your Cross Colour clothes, you've crossed over\n  start_ms: 23680\n  end_ms: 25930\n- text: Then got Totally Krossed Out and Kris Krossed\n  start_ms: 25930\n  end_ms: 28310\n- text: Who the boss? Niggas get tossed to the side\n  start_ms: 28310\n  end_ms: 30620\n- text: And I'm the dark side of the Force\n  start_ms: 30620\n  end_ms: 32430\n- text: Of course it's the Method, Man from the Wu-Tang Clan\n  start_ms: 32430\n  end_ms: 35290\n- text: I be hectic, and comin' for the head piece, protect it\n  start_ms: 35290\n  end_ms: 37770\n- text: Fuck it, two tears in a bucket\n  start_ms: 37770\n  end_ms: 39460\n- text: Niggas want the ruckus\n  start_ms: 39460\n  end_ms: 40690\n- text: Bustin' at me, bruh, now bust it\n  start_ms: 40690\n  end_ms: 42430\n- text: Styles, I gets buckwild\n  start_ms: 42430\n  end_ms: 44070\n- text: Method Man on some shit, pullin' niggas files, I'm sick\n  start_ms: 44070\n  end_ms: 47160\n- text: Insane, crazy, driving Miss Daisy\n  start_ms: 47160\n  end_ms: 49560\n- text: Out her fucking mind, now I got mine, I'm Swayze\n  start_ms: 49560\n  end_ms: 51640\n- text: Is it real, son, is it really real, son?\n  start_ms: 51640\n  end_ms: 53760\n- text: Let me know it's real, son, if it's really real\n  start_ms: 53760\n  end_ms: 56240\n- text: Something I could feel, son, load it up and kill one\n  start_ms: 56240\n  end_ms: 58300\n- text: Want it raw deal, son, if it's really real, yeah, uh\n  start_ms: 58300\n  end_ms: 61570\n- text: When I was a likle stereo (stereo)\n  start_ms: 61570\n  end_ms: 63670\n- text: I listen to some Champion (Champion)\n  start_ms: 63670\n  end_ms: 66020\n- text: I always wondered (wondered)\n  start_ms: 66020\n  end_ms: 68480\n- text: When I will be di number one (Tical)\n  start_ms: 68480\n  end_ms: 70760\n- text: And now yuh listen to di Gorgon (Gorgon)\n  start_ms: 70760\n  end_ms: 73210\n- text: And a Gorgon sound a Rein\n  start_ms: 73210\n  end_ms: 75630\n- text: An' any jump and come tes' mi (test me)\n  start_ms: 75630\n  end_ms: 77820\n- text: Mi a-go lick out dem brain (it's like that)\n  start_ms: 77820\n  end_ms: 80070\n- text: Brothers wanna hang with the Meth, bring the rope\n  start_ms: 80070\n  end_ms: 82500\n- text: The only way you'll hang is by the neck\n  start_ms: 82500\n  end_ms: 84190\n- text: Nigga, bolt off the set, comin' to your projects\n  start_ms: 84190\n  end_ms: 86800\n- text: Take it as a threat, better yet it's a promise\n  start_ms: 86800\n  end_ms: 89030\n- text: Comin' from a vet on some old Vietnam shit\n  start_ms: 89030\n  end_ms: 91440\n- text: Nigga, you can bet your bottom dollar, hey, I bomb shit\n  start_ms: 91440\n  end_ms: 93780\n- text: And it's gonna get even worse, word to God\n  start_ms: 93780\n  end_ms: 95950\n- text: It's the Wu comin' through, stickin' niggas for they garments\n  start_ms: 95950\n  end_ms: 98440\n- text: Movin' on your left, southpaw, Mr. Meth\n  start_ms: 98440\n  end_ms: 100700\n- text: Came to represent and carve my name in your chest\n  start_ms: 100700\n  end_ms: 103100\n- text: You can come test, realize you're no contest\n  start_ms: 103100\n  end_ms: 105620\n- text: Son, I'm the gun that won that old Wild West\n  start_ms: 105620\n  end_ms: 107890\n- text: Quick on the draw with my hands on the four-\n  start_ms: 107890\n  end_ms: 110150\n- text: Nine-three-eleven with the rugged rhymes galore\n  start_ms: 110150\n  end_ms: 112520\n- text: Check it, 'cause I think not when this hip-hops like proper\n  start_ms: 112520\n  end_ms: 115420\n- text: Rhymes be the proof while I'm drinkin' 90 proof\n  start_ms: 115420\n  end_ms: 117630\n- text: Huh, vodka, no OJ, no straw\n  start_ms: 117630\n  end_ms: 120290\n- text: When you give it to me, ayy, give it to me raw\n  start_ms: 120290\n  end_ms: 122570\n- text: I've learned that when you drink Absolut straight it burns\n  start_ms: 122570\n  end_ms: 125460\n- text: Enough to give my chest hairs a perm\n  start_ms: 125460\n  end_ms: 127340\n- text: I don't need a chemical blow to pull a ho\n  start_ms: 127340\n  end_ms: 129620\n- text: All I need is Chemical Bank to pay the roll\n  start_ms: 129620\n  end_ms: 132460\n- text: What, basically that, Meth-Tical, '94 style\n  start_ms: 132460\n  end_ms: 136410\n- text: (Northern spicy brown mustard hoes, word up, we be hazardous)\n  start_ms: 136410\n  end_ms: 138790\n- text: We have to stick you\n  start_ms: 138790\n  end_ms: 141260\n- text: Is it real, son, is it really real, son? (Motherfucker, I'll fuckin')\n  start_ms: 141260\n  end_ms: 143490\n- text: Let me know it's real, son, if it's really real\n  start_ms: 143490\n  end_ms: 145540\n- text: Something I could feel, son, load it up and kill one\n  start_ms: 145540\n  end_ms: 147990\n- text: Want it raw deal, son, if it's really real\n  start_ms: 147990\n  end_ms: 150520\n- text: I'll fuckin', I'll fuckin' cut your kneecaps off\n  start_ms: 150520\n  end_ms: 154960\n- text: And make you kneel at some staircase, piss\n  start_ms: 154960\n  end_ms: 158460\n- text: I'll fuckin' cut your eyelids off and feed you nothin' but sleepin' pills\n  start_ms: 158460\n  end_ms: 174310\n- text: Get yours, motherfucker\n  start_ms: 174310\n  end_ms: 181160\n- text: So fuck the ho, fuck the ho\n  start_ms: 181160\n  end_ms: 185060\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 185060\nplain: |-\n  Basically\n  Can't fuck with me\n\n  I came to bring the pain hardcore from the brain\n  Let's go inside my astral plane\n  Find out my mental, based on instrumental\n  Records, hey, so I can write monumental\n  Methods, I'm not the king\n  But niggas is decaf, I stick 'em for the cream\n  Check it, just how deep can shit get\n  Deep as the abyss and brothers is mad, fish accept it\n\n  In your Cross Colour clothes, you've crossed over\n  Then got Totally Krossed Out and Kris Krossed\n  Who the boss? Niggas get tossed to the side\n  And I'm the dark side of the Force\n  Of course it's the Method, Man from the Wu-Tang Clan\n  I be hectic, and comin' for the head piece, protect it\n  Fuck it, two tears in a bucket\n  Niggas want the ruckus\n  Bustin' at me, bruh, now bust it\n\n  Styles, I gets buckwild\n  Method Man on some shit, pullin' niggas files, I'm sick\n  Insane, crazy, driving Miss Daisy\n  Out her fucking mind, now I got mine, I'm Swayze\n\n  Is it real, son, is it really real, son?\n  Let me know it's real, son, if it's really real\n  Something I could feel, son, load it up and kill one\n  Want it raw deal, son, if it's really real, yeah, uh\n\n  When I was a likle stereo (stereo)\n  I listen to some Champion (Champion)\n  I always wondered (wondered)\n  When I will be di number one (Tical)\n  And now yuh listen to di Gorgon (Gorgon)\n  And a Gorgon sound a Rein\n  An' any jump and come tes' mi (test me)\n  Mi a-go lick out dem brain (it's like that)\n\n  Brothers wanna hang with the Meth, bring the rope\n  The only way you'll hang is by the neck\n  Nigga, bolt off the set, comin' to your projects\n  Take it as a threat, better yet it's a promise\n  Comin' from a vet on some old Vietnam shit\n  Nigga, you can bet your bottom dollar, hey, I bomb shit\n  And it's gonna get even worse, word to God\n  It's the Wu comin' through, stickin' niggas for they garments\n\n  Movin' on your left, southpaw, Mr. Meth\n  Came to represent and carve my name in your chest\n  You can come test, realize you're no contest\n  Son, I'm the gun that won that old Wild West\n  Quick on the draw with my hands on the four-\n  Nine-three-eleven with the rugged rhymes galore\n  Check it, 'cause I think not when this hip-hops like proper\n  Rhymes be the proof while I'm drinkin' 90 proof\n\n  Huh, vodka, no OJ, no straw\n  When you give it to me, ayy, give it to me raw\n  I've learned that when you drink Absolut straight it burns\n  Enough to give my chest hairs a perm\n  I don't need a chemical blow to pull a ho\n  All I need is Chemical Bank to pay the roll\n\n  What, basically that, Meth-Tical, '94 style\n  (Northern spicy brown mustard hoes, word up, we be hazardous)\n  We have to stick you\n\n  Is it real, son, is it really real, son? (Motherfucker, I'll fuckin')\n  Let me know it's real, son, if it's really real\n  Something I could feel, son, load it up and kill one\n  Want it raw deal, son, if it's really real\n\n  I'll fuckin', I'll fuckin' cut your kneecaps off\n  And make you kneel at some staircase, piss\n  I'll fuckin' cut your eyelids off and feed you nothin' but sleepin' pills\n  Get yours, motherfucker\n  So fuck the ho, fuck the ho\n"},{"id":16140993,"name":"Bring The Pain","trackName":"Bring The Pain","artistName":"Method Man","albumName":"Method Man Videos","duration":203.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Basically\nCan't fuck with me\n\nI came to bring the pain hardcore from the brain\nLet's go inside my astral plane\nFind out my mental, based on instrumental\nRecords, hey, so I can write monumental\nMethods, I'm not the king\nBut niggas is decaf, I stick 'em for the cream\nCheck it, just how deep can shit get\nDeep as the abyss and brothers is mad, fish accept it\n\nIn your Cross Colour clothes, you've crossed over\nThen got Totally Krossed Out and Kris Krossed\nWho the boss? Niggas get tossed to the side\nAnd I'm the dark side of the Force\nOf course it's the Method, Man from the Wu-Tang Clan\nI be hectic, and comin' for the head piece, protect it\nFuck it, two tears in a bucket\nNiggas want the ruckus\nBustin' at me, bruh, now bust it\n\nStyles, I gets buckwild\nMethod Man on some shit, pullin' niggas files, I'm sick\nInsane, crazy, driving Miss Daisy\nOut her fucking mind, now I got mine, I'm Swayze\n\nIs it real, son, is it really real, son?\nLet me know it's real, son, if it's really real\nSomething I could feel, son, load it up and kill one\nWant it raw deal, son, if it's really real, yeah, uh\n\nWhen I was a likle stereo (stereo)\nI listen to some Champion (Champion)\nI always wondered (wondered)\nWhen I will be di number one (Tical)\nAnd now yuh listen to di Gorgon (Gorgon)\nAnd a Gorgon sound a Rein\nAn' any jump and come tes' mi (test me)\nMi a-go lick out dem brain (it's like that)\n\nBrothers wanna hang with the Meth, bring the rope\nThe only way you'll hang is by the neck\nNigga, bolt off the set, comin' to your projects\nTake it as a threat, better yet it's a promise\nComin' from a vet on some old Vietnam shit\nNigga, you can bet your bottom dollar, hey, I bomb shit\nAnd it's gonna get even worse, word to God\nIt's the Wu comin' through, stickin' niggas for they garments\n\nMovin' on your left, southpaw, Mr. Meth\nCame to represent and carve my name in your chest\nYou can come test, realize you're no contest\nSon, I'm the gun that won that old Wild West\nQuick on the draw with my hands on the four-\nNine-three-eleven with the rugged rhymes galore\nCheck it, 'cause I think not when this hip-hops like proper\nRhymes be the proof while I'm drinkin' 90 proof\n\nHuh, vodka, no OJ, no straw\nWhen you give it to me, ayy, give it to me raw\nI've learned that when you drink Absolut straight it burns\nEnough to give my chest hairs a perm\nI don't need a chemical blow to pull a ho\nAll I need is Chemical Bank to pay the roll\n\nWhat, basically that, Meth-Tical, '94 style\n(Northern spicy brown mustard hoes, word up, we be hazardous)\nWe have to stick you\n\nIs it real, son, is it really real, son? (Motherfucker, I'll fuckin')\nLet me know it's real, son, if it's really real\nSomething I could feel, son, load it up and kill one\nWant it raw deal, son, if it's really real\n\nI'll fuckin', I'll fuckin' cut your kneecaps off\nAnd make you kneel at some staircase, piss\nI'll fuckin' cut your eyelids off and feed you nothin' but sleepin' pills\nGet yours, motherfucker\nSo fuck the ho, fuck the ho","syncedLyrics":"[00:06.38] Basically\n[00:08.44] Can't fuck with me\n[00:10.38] I came to bring the pain hardcore from the brain\n[00:11.52] Let's go inside my astral plane\n[00:13.75] Find out my mental, based on instrumental\n[00:16.46] Records, hey, so I can write monumental\n[00:18.91] Methods, I'm not the king\n[00:21.55] But niggas is decaf, I stick 'em for the cream\n[00:23.15] Check it, just how deep can shit get\n[00:25.63] Deep as the abyss and brothers is mad, fish accept it\n[00:27.78] In your Cross Colour clothes, you've crossed over\n[00:30.14] Then got Totally Krossed Out and Kris Krossed\n[00:32.59] Who the boss? Niggas get tossed to the side\n[00:35.12] And I'm the dark side of the Force\n[00:36.94] Of course it's the Method, Man from the Wu-Tang Clan\n[00:39.48] I be hectic, and comin' for the head piece, protect it\n[00:42.35] Fuck it, two tears in a bucket\n[00:44.53] Niggas want the ruckus\n[00:45.93] Bustin' at me, bruh, now bust it\n[00:47.58] Styles, I gets buckwild\n[00:48.75] Method Man on some shit, pullin' niggas files, I'm sick\n[00:51.65] Insane, crazy, driving Miss Daisy\n[00:53.97] Out her fucking mind, now I got mine, I'm Swayze\n[00:56.52] Is it real, son, is it really real, son?\n[00:58.51] Let me know it's real, son, if it's really real\n[01:00.31] Something I could feel, son, load it up and kill one\n[01:03.14] Want it raw deal, son, if it's really real, yeah, uh\n[01:05.46] When I was a likle stereo (stereo)\n[01:08.12] I listen to some Champion (Champion)\n[01:10.22] I always wondered (wondered)\n[01:13.13] When I will be di number one (Tical)\n[01:15.21] And now yuh listen to di Gorgon (Gorgon)\n[01:18.38] And a Gorgon sound a Rein\n[01:20.12] An' any jump and come tes' mi (test me)\n[01:22.33] Mi a-go lick out dem brain (it's like that)\n[01:25.53] Brothers wanna hang with the Meth, bring the rope\n[01:27.48] The only way you'll hang is by the neck\n[01:29.45] Nigga, bolt off the set, comin' to your projects\n[01:30.99] Take it as a threat, better yet it's a promise\n[01:32.74] Comin' from a vet on some old Vietnam shit\n[01:35.29] Nigga, you can bet your bottom dollar, hey, I bomb shit\n[01:37.57] And it's gonna get even worse, word to God\n[01:40.18] It's the Wu comin' through, stickin' niggas for they garments\n[01:42.68] Movin' on your left, southpaw, Mr. Meth\n[01:45.40] Came to represent and carve my name in your chest\n[01:48.33] You can come test, realize you're no contest\n[01:50.47] Son, I'm the gun that won that old Wild West\n[01:52.46] Quick on the draw with my hands on the four-\n[01:54.76] Nine-three-eleven with the rugged rhymes galore\n[01:57.01] Check it, 'cause I think not when this hip-hops like proper\n[01:59.74] Rhymes be the proof while I'm drinkin' 90 proof\n[02:02.42] Huh, vodka, no OJ, no straw\n[02:04.67] When you give it to me, ayy, give it to me raw\n[02:07.21] I've learned that when you drink Absolut straight it burns\n[02:09.85] Enough to give my chest hairs a perm\n[02:12.18] I don't need a chemical blow to pull a ho\n[02:15.14] All I need is Chemical Bank to pay the roll\n[02:16.59] What, basically that, Meth-Tical, '94 style\n[02:21.25] (Northern spicy brown mustard hoes, word up, we be hazardous)\n[02:24.86] We have to stick you\n[02:26.01] Is it real, son, is it really real, son? (Motherfucker, I'll fuckin')\n[02:30.08] Let me know it's real, son, if it's really real\n[02:32.07] Something I could feel, son, load it up and kill one\n[02:34.09] Want it raw deal, son, if it's really real\n[02:50.31] I'll fuckin', I'll fuckin' cut your kneecaps off\n[02:52.90] And make you kneel at some staircase, piss\n[02:54.72] I'll fuckin' cut your eyelids off and feed you nothin' but sleepin' pills\n[02:56.09] Get yours, motherfucker\n[03:00.86] So fuck the ho, fuck the ho\n[03:03.22] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Bring The Pain\n  artist: Method Man\n  album: Method Man Videos\n  duration_ms: 203000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Basically\n  start_ms: 6380\n  end_ms: 8440\n- text: Can't fuck with me\n  start_ms: 8440\n  end_ms: 10380\n- text: I came to bring the pain hardcore from the brain\n  start_ms: 10380\n  end_ms: 11520\n- text: Let's go inside my astral plane\n  start_ms: 11520\n  end_ms: 13750\n- text: Find out my mental, based on instrumental\n  start_ms: 13750\n  end_ms: 16460\n- text: Records, hey, so I can write monumental\n  start_ms: 16460\n  end_ms: 18910\n- text: Methods, I'm not the king\n  start_ms: 18910\n  end_ms: 21550\n- text: But niggas is decaf, I stick 'em for the cream\n  start_ms: 21550\n  end_ms: 23150\n- text: Check it, just how deep can shit get\n  start_ms: 23150\n  end_ms: 25630\n- text: Deep as the abyss and brothers is mad, fish accept it\n  start_ms: 25630\n  end_ms: 27780\n- text: In your Cross Colour clothes, you've crossed over\n  start_ms: 27780\n  end_ms: 30140\n- text: Then got Totally Krossed Out and Kris Krossed\n  start_ms: 30140\n  end_ms: 32590\n- text: Who the boss? Niggas get tossed to the side\n  start_ms: 32590\n  end_ms: 35120\n- text: And I'm the dark side of the Force\n  start_ms: 35120\n  end_ms: 36940\n- text: Of course it's the Method, Man from the Wu-Tang Clan\n  start_ms: 36940\n  end_ms: 39480\n- text: I be hectic, and comin' for the head piece, protect it\n  start_ms: 39480\n  end_ms: 42350\n- text: Fuck it, two tears in a bucket\n  start_ms: 42350\n  end_ms: 44530\n- text: Niggas want the ruckus\n  start_ms: 44530\n  end_ms: 45930\n- text: Bustin' at me, bruh, now bust it\n  start_ms: 45930\n  end_ms: 47580\n- text: Styles, I gets buckwild\n  start_ms: 47580\n  end_ms: 48750\n- text: Method Man on some shit, pullin' niggas files, I'm sick\n  start_ms: 48750\n  end_ms: 51650\n- text: Insane, crazy, driving Miss Daisy\n  start_ms: 51650\n  end_ms: 53970\n- text: Out her fucking mind, now I got mine, I'm Swayze\n  start_ms: 53970\n  end_ms: 56520\n- text: Is it real, son, is it really real, son?\n  start_ms: 56520\n  end_ms: 58510\n- text: Let me know it's real, son, if it's really real\n  start_ms: 58510\n  end_ms: 60310\n- text: Something I could feel, son, load it up and kill one\n  start_ms: 60310\n  end_ms: 63140\n- text: Want it raw deal, son, if it's really real, yeah, uh\n  start_ms: 63140\n  end_ms: 65460\n- text: When I was a likle stereo (stereo)\n  start_ms: 65460\n  end_ms: 68120\n- text: I listen to some Champion (Champion)\n  start_ms: 68120\n  end_ms: 70220\n- text: I always wondered (wondered)\n  start_ms: 70220\n  end_ms: 73130\n- text: When I will be di number one (Tical)\n  start_ms: 73130\n  end_ms: 75210\n- text: And now yuh listen to di Gorgon (Gorgon)\n  start_ms: 75210\n  end_ms: 78380\n- text: And a Gorgon sound a Rein\n  start_ms: 78380\n  end_ms: 80120\n- text: An' any jump and come tes' mi (test me)\n  start_ms: 80120\n  end_ms: 82330\n- text: Mi a-go lick out dem brain (it's like that)\n  start_ms: 82330\n  end_ms: 85530\n- text: Brothers wanna hang with the Meth, bring the rope\n  start_ms: 85530\n  end_ms: 87480\n- text: The only way you'll hang is by the neck\n  start_ms: 87480\n  end_ms: 89450\n- text: Nigga, bolt off the set, comin' to your projects\n  start_ms: 89450\n  end_ms: 90990\n- text: Take it as a threat, better yet it's a promise\n  start_ms: 90990\n  end_ms: 92740\n- text: Comin' from a vet on some old Vietnam shit\n  start_ms: 92740\n  end_ms: 95290\n- text: Nigga, you can bet your bottom dollar, hey, I bomb shit\n  start_ms: 95290\n  end_ms: 97570\n- text: And it's gonna get even worse, word to God\n  start_ms: 97570\n  end_ms: 100180\n- text: It's the Wu comin' through, stickin' niggas for they garments\n  start_ms: 100180\n  end_ms: 102680\n- text: Movin' on your left, southpaw, Mr. Meth\n  start_ms: 102680\n  end_ms: 105400\n- text: Came to represent and carve my name in your chest\n  start_ms: 105400\n  end_ms: 108330\n- text: You can come test, realize you're no contest\n  start_ms: 108330\n  end_ms: 110470\n- text: Son, I'm the gun that won that old Wild West\n  start_ms: 110470\n  end_ms: 112460\n- text: Quick on the draw with my hands on the four-\n  start_ms: 112460\n  end_ms: 114760\n- text: Nine-three-eleven with the rugged rhymes galore\n  start_ms: 114760\n  end_ms: 117010\n- text: Check it, 'cause I think not when this hip-hops like proper\n  start_ms: 117010\n  end_ms: 119740\n- text: Rhymes be the proof while I'm drinkin' 90 proof\n  start_ms: 119740\n  end_ms: 122420\n- text: Huh, vodka, no OJ, no straw\n  start_ms: 122420\n  end_ms: 124670\n- text: When you give it to me, ayy, give it to me raw\n  start_ms: 124670\n  end_ms: 127210\n- text: I've learned that when you drink Absolut straight it burns\n  start_ms: 127210\n  end_ms: 129850\n- text: Enough to give my chest hairs a perm\n  start_ms: 129850\n  end_ms: 132180\n- text: I don't need a chemical blow to pull a ho\n  start_ms: 132180\n  end_ms: 135140\n- text: All I need is Chemical Bank to pay the roll\n  start_ms: 135140\n  end_ms: 136590\n- text: What, basically that, Meth-Tical, '94 style\n  start_ms: 136590\n  end_ms: 141250\n- text: (Northern spicy brown mustard hoes, word up, we be hazardous)\n  start_ms: 141250\n  end_ms: 144860\n- text: We have to stick you\n  start_ms: 144860\n  end_ms: 146010\n- text: Is it real, son, is it really real, son? (Motherfucker, I'll fuckin')\n  start_ms: 146010\n  end_ms: 150080\n- text: Let me know it's real, son, if it's really real\n  start_ms: 150080\n  end_ms: 152070\n- text: Something I could feel, son, load it up and kill one\n  start_ms: 152070\n  end_ms: 154090\n- text: Want it raw deal, son, if it's really real\n  start_ms: 154090\n  end_ms: 170310\n- text: I'll fuckin', I'll fuckin' cut your kneecaps off\n  start_ms: 170310\n  end_ms: 172900\n- text: And make you kneel at some staircase, piss\n  start_ms: 172900\n  end_ms: 174720\n- text: I'll fuckin' cut your eyelids off and feed you nothin' but sleepin' pills\n  start_ms: 174720\n  end_ms: 176090\n- text: Get yours, motherfucker\n  start_ms: 176090\n  end_ms: 180860\n- text: So fuck the ho, fuck the ho\n  start_ms: 180860\n  end_ms: 183220\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 183220\nplain: |-\n  Basically\n  Can't fuck with me\n\n  I came to bring the pain hardcore from the brain\n  Let's go inside my astral plane\n  Find out my mental, based on instrumental\n  Records, hey, so I can write monumental\n  Methods, I'm not the king\n  But niggas is decaf, I stick 'em for the cream\n  Check it, just how deep can shit get\n  Deep as the abyss and brothers is mad, fish accept it\n\n  In your Cross Colour clothes, you've crossed over\n  Then got Totally Krossed Out and Kris Krossed\n  Who the boss? Niggas get tossed to the side\n  And I'm the dark side of the Force\n  Of course it's the Method, Man from the Wu-Tang Clan\n  I be hectic, and comin' for the head piece, protect it\n  Fuck it, two tears in a bucket\n  Niggas want the ruckus\n  Bustin' at me, bruh, now bust it\n\n  Styles, I gets buckwild\n  Method Man on some shit, pullin' niggas files, I'm sick\n  Insane, crazy, driving Miss Daisy\n  Out her fucking mind, now I got mine, I'm Swayze\n\n  Is it real, son, is it really real, son?\n  Let me know it's real, son, if it's really real\n  Something I could feel, son, load it up and kill one\n  Want it raw deal, son, if it's really real, yeah, uh\n\n  When I was a likle stereo (stereo)\n  I listen to some Champion (Champion)\n  I always wondered (wondered)\n  When I will be di number one (Tical)\n  And now yuh listen to di Gorgon (Gorgon)\n  And a Gorgon sound a Rein\n  An' any jump and come tes' mi (test me)\n  Mi a-go lick out dem brain (it's like that)\n\n  Brothers wanna hang with the Meth, bring the rope\n  The only way you'll hang is by the neck\n  Nigga, bolt off the set, comin' to your projects\n  Take it as a threat, better yet it's a promise\n  Comin' from a vet on some old Vietnam shit\n  Nigga, you can bet your bottom dollar, hey, I bomb shit\n  And it's gonna get even worse, word to God\n  It's the Wu comin' through, stickin' niggas for they garments\n\n  Movin' on your left, southpaw, Mr. Meth\n  Came to represent and carve my name in your chest\n  You can come test, realize you're no contest\n  Son, I'm the gun that won that old Wild West\n  Quick on the draw with my hands on the four-\n  Nine-three-eleven with the rugged rhymes galore\n  Check it, 'cause I think not when this hip-hops like proper\n  Rhymes be the proof while I'm drinkin' 90 proof\n\n  Huh, vodka, no OJ, no straw\n  When you give it to me, ayy, give it to me raw\n  I've learned that when you drink Absolut straight it burns\n  Enough to give my chest hairs a perm\n  I don't need a chemical blow to pull a ho\n  All I need is Chemical Bank to pay the roll\n\n  What, basically that, Meth-Tical, '94 style\n  (Northern spicy brown mustard hoes, word up, we be hazardous)\n  We have to stick you\n\n  Is it real, son, is it really real, son? (Motherfucker, I'll fuckin')\n  Let me know it's real, son, if it's really real\n  Something I could feel, son, load it up and kill one\n  Want it raw deal, son, if it's really real\n\n  I'll fuckin', I'll fuckin' cut your kneecaps off\n  And make you kneel at some staircase, piss\n  I'll fuckin' cut your eyelids off and feed you nothin' but sleepin' pills\n  Get yours, motherfucker\n  So fuck the ho, fuck the ho\n"},{"id":39564805,"name":"Bring The Pain","trackName":"Bring The Pain","artistName":"Method Man","albumName":"Method Tical Man","duration":192.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Basically\nCan't fuck with me\n\nI came to bring the pain hardcore from the brain\nLet's go inside my astral plane\nFind out my mental, based on instrumental\nRecords, hey, so I can write monumental\nMethods, I'm not the king\nBut niggas is decaf, I stick 'em for the cream\nCheck it, just how deep can shit get\nDeep as the abyss and brothers is mad, fish accept it\n\nIn your Cross Colour clothes, you've crossed over\nThen got Totally Krossed Out and Kris Krossed\nWho the boss? Niggas get tossed to the side\nAnd I'm the dark side of the Force\nOf course it's the Method, Man from the Wu-Tang Clan\nI be hectic, and comin' for the head piece, protect it\nFuck it, two tears in a bucket\nNiggas want the ruckus\nBustin' at me, bruh, now bust it\n\nStyles, I gets buckwild\nMethod Man on some shit, pullin' niggas files, I'm sick\nInsane, crazy, driving Miss Daisy\nOut her fucking mind, now I got mine, I'm Swayze\n\nIs it real, son, is it really real, son?\nLet me know it's real, son, if it's really real\nSomething I could feel, son, load it up and kill one\nWant it raw deal, son, if it's really real, yeah, uh\n\nWhen I was a likle stereo (stereo)\nI listen to some Champion (Champion)\nI always wondered (wondered)\nWhen I will be di number one (Tical)\nAnd now yuh listen to di Gorgon (Gorgon)\nAnd a Gorgon sound a Rein\nAn' any jump and come tes' mi (test me)\nMi a-go lick out dem brain (it's like that)\n\nBrothers wanna hang with the Meth, bring the rope\nThe only way you'll hang is by the neck\nNigga, bolt off the set, comin' to your projects\nTake it as a threat, better yet it's a promise\nComin' from a vet on some old Vietnam shit\nNigga, you can bet your bottom dollar, hey, I bomb shit\nAnd it's gonna get even worse, word to God\nIt's the Wu comin' through, stickin' niggas for they garments\n\nMovin' on your left, southpaw, Mr. Meth\nCame to represent and carve my name in your chest\nYou can come test, realize you're no contest\nSon, I'm the gun that won that old Wild West\nQuick on the draw with my hands on the four-\nNine-three-eleven with the rugged rhymes galore\nCheck it, 'cause I think not when this hip-hops like proper\nRhymes be the proof while I'm drinkin' 90 proof\n\nHuh, vodka, no OJ, no straw\nWhen you give it to me, ayy, give it to me raw\nI've learned that when you drink Absolut straight it burns\nEnough to give my chest hairs a perm\nI don't need a chemical blow to pull a ho\nAll I need is Chemical Bank to pay the roll\n\nWhat, basically that, Meth-Tical, '94 style\n(Northern spicy brown mustard hoes, word up, we be hazardous)\nWe have to stick you\n\nIs it real, son, is it really real, son? (Motherfucker, I'll fuckin')\nLet me know it's real, son, if it's really real\nSomething I could feel, son, load it up and kill one\nWant it raw deal, son, if it's really real\n\nI'll fuckin', I'll fuckin' cut your kneecaps off\nAnd make you kneel at some staircase, piss\nI'll fuckin' cut your eyelids off and feed you nothin' but sleepin' pills\nGet yours, motherfucker\nSo fuck the ho, fuck the ho","syncedLyrics":"[00:00.19]Basically\n[00:02.61]Can't fuck with me\n[00:04.66]I came to bring the pain hardcore from the brain\n[00:07.76]Let's go inside my astral plane\n[00:09.56]Find out my mental, based on instrumental\n[00:11.76]Records, hey, so I can write monumental\n[00:14.19]Methods, I'm not the king\n[00:15.82]But niggas is decaf, I stick 'em for the cream\n[00:18.22]Check it, just how deep can shit get\n[00:20.64]Deep as the abyss and brothers is mad, fish accept it\n[00:23.68]In your Cross Colour clothes, you've crossed over\n[00:25.93]Then got Totally Krossed Out and Kris Krossed\n[00:28.31]Who the boss? Niggas get tossed to the side\n[00:30.62]And I'm the dark side of the Force\n[00:32.43]Of course it's the Method, Man from the Wu-Tang Clan\n[00:35.29]I be hectic, and comin' for the head piece, protect it\n[00:37.77]Fuck it, two tears in a bucket\n[00:39.46]Niggas want the ruckus\n[00:40.69]Bustin' at me, bruh, now bust it\n[00:42.43]Styles, I gets buckwild\n[00:44.07]Method Man on some shit, pullin' niggas files, I'm sick\n[00:47.16]Insane, crazy, driving Miss Daisy\n[00:49.56]Out her fucking mind, now I got mine, I'm Swayze\n[00:51.64]Is it real, son, is it really real, son?\n[00:53.76]Let me know it's real, son, if it's really real\n[00:56.24]Something I could feel, son, load it up and kill one\n[00:58.30]Want it raw deal, son, if it's really real, yeah, uh\n[01:01.57]When I was a likle stereo (stereo)\n[01:03.67]I listen to some Champion (Champion)\n[01:06.02]I always wondered (wondered)\n[01:08.48]When I will be di number one (Tical)\n[01:10.76]And now yuh listen to di Gorgon (Gorgon)\n[01:13.21]And a Gorgon sound a Rein\n[01:15.63]An' any jump and come tes' mi (test me)\n[01:17.82]Mi a-go lick out dem brain (it's like that)\n[01:20.07]Brothers wanna hang with the Meth, bring the rope\n[01:22.50]The only way you'll hang is by the neck\n[01:24.19]Nigga, bolt off the set, comin' to your projects\n[01:26.80]Take it as a threat, better yet it's a promise\n[01:29.03]Comin' from a vet on some old Vietnam shit\n[01:31.44]Nigga, you can bet your bottom dollar, hey, I bomb shit\n[01:33.78]And it's gonna get even worse, word to God\n[01:35.95]It's the Wu comin' through, stickin' niggas for they garments\n[01:38.44]Movin' on your left, southpaw, Mr. Meth\n[01:40.70]Came to represent and carve my name in your chest\n[01:43.10]You can come test, realize you're no contest\n[01:45.62]Son, I'm the gun that won that old Wild West\n[01:47.89]Quick on the draw with my hands on the four-\n[01:50.15]Nine-three-eleven with the rugged rhymes galore\n[01:52.52]Check it, 'cause I think not when this hip-hops like proper\n[01:55.42]Rhymes be the proof while I'm drinkin' 90 proof\n[01:57.63]Huh, vodka, no OJ, no straw\n[02:00.29]When you give it to me, ayy, give it to me raw\n[02:02.57]I've learned that when you drink Absolut straight it burns\n[02:05.46]Enough to give my chest hairs a perm\n[02:07.34]I don't need a chemical blow to pull a ho\n[02:09.62]All I need is Chemical Bank to pay the roll\n[02:12.46]What, basically that, Meth-Tical, '94 style\n[02:16.41](Northern spicy brown mustard hoes, word up, we be hazardous)\n[02:18.79]We have to stick you\n[02:21.26]Is it real, son, is it really real, son? (Motherfucker, I'll fuckin')\n[02:23.49]Let me know it's real, son, if it's really real\n[02:25.54]Something I could feel, son, load it up and kill one\n[02:27.99]Want it raw deal, son, if it's really real\n[02:30.52]I'll fuckin', I'll fuckin' cut your kneecaps off\n[02:34.96]And make you kneel at some staircase, piss\n[02:38.46]I'll fuckin' cut your eyelids off and feed you nothin' but sleepin' pills\n[02:54.31]Get yours, motherfucker\n[03:01.16]So fuck the ho, fuck the ho\n[03:05.06]","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Bring The Pain\n  artist: Method Man\n  album: Method Tical Man\n  duration_ms: 191771\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Basically\n  start_ms: 190\n  end_ms: 2610\n- text: Can't fuck with me\n  start_ms: 2610\n  end_ms: 4660\n- text: I came to bring the pain hardcore from the brain\n  start_ms: 4660\n  end_ms: 7760\n- text: Let's go inside my astral plane\n  start_ms: 7760\n  end_ms: 9560\n- text: Find out my mental, based on instrumental\n  start_ms: 9560\n  end_ms: 11760\n- text: Records, hey, so I can write monumental\n  start_ms: 11760\n  end_ms: 14190\n- text: Methods, I'm not the king\n  start_ms: 14190\n  end_ms: 15820\n- text: But niggas is decaf, I stick 'em for the cream\n  start_ms: 15820\n  end_ms: 18220\n- text: Check it, just how deep can shit get\n  start_ms: 18220\n  end_ms: 20640\n- text: Deep as the abyss and brothers is mad, fish accept it\n  start_ms: 20640\n  end_ms: 23680\n- text: In your Cross Colour clothes, you've crossed over\n  start_ms: 23680\n  end_ms: 25930\n- text: Then got Totally Krossed Out and Kris Krossed\n  start_ms: 25930\n  end_ms: 28310\n- text: Who the boss? Niggas get tossed to the side\n  start_ms: 28310\n  end_ms: 30620\n- text: And I'm the dark side of the Force\n  start_ms: 30620\n  end_ms: 32430\n- text: Of course it's the Method, Man from the Wu-Tang Clan\n  start_ms: 32430\n  end_ms: 35290\n- text: I be hectic, and comin' for the head piece, protect it\n  start_ms: 35290\n  end_ms: 37770\n- text: Fuck it, two tears in a bucket\n  start_ms: 37770\n  end_ms: 39460\n- text: Niggas want the ruckus\n  start_ms: 39460\n  end_ms: 40690\n- text: Bustin' at me, bruh, now bust it\n  start_ms: 40690\n  end_ms: 42430\n- text: Styles, I gets buckwild\n  start_ms: 42430\n  end_ms: 44070\n- text: Method Man on some shit, pullin' niggas files, I'm sick\n  start_ms: 44070\n  end_ms: 47160\n- text: Insane, crazy, driving Miss Daisy\n  start_ms: 47160\n  end_ms: 49560\n- text: Out her fucking mind, now I got mine, I'm Swayze\n  start_ms: 49560\n  end_ms: 51640\n- text: Is it real, son, is it really real, son?\n  start_ms: 51640\n  end_ms: 53760\n- text: Let me know it's real, son, if it's really real\n  start_ms: 53760\n  end_ms: 56240\n- text: Something I could feel, son, load it up and kill one\n  start_ms: 56240\n  end_ms: 58300\n- text: Want it raw deal, son, if it's really real, yeah, uh\n  start_ms: 58300\n  end_ms: 61570\n- text: When I was a likle stereo (stereo)\n  start_ms: 61570\n  end_ms: 63670\n- text: I listen to some Champion (Champion)\n  start_ms: 63670\n  end_ms: 66020\n- text: I always wondered (wondered)\n  start_ms: 66020\n  end_ms: 68480\n- text: When I will be di number one (Tical)\n  start_ms: 68480\n  end_ms: 70760\n- text: And now yuh listen to di Gorgon (Gorgon)\n  start_ms: 70760\n  end_ms: 73210\n- text: And a Gorgon sound a Rein\n  start_ms: 73210\n  end_ms: 75630\n- text: An' any jump and come tes' mi (test me)\n  start_ms: 75630\n  end_ms: 77820\n- text: Mi a-go lick out dem brain (it's like that)\n  start_ms: 77820\n  end_ms: 80070\n- text: Brothers wanna hang with the Meth, bring the rope\n  start_ms: 80070\n  end_ms: 82500\n- text: The only way you'll hang is by the neck\n  start_ms: 82500\n  end_ms: 84190\n- text: Nigga, bolt off the set, comin' to your projects\n  start_ms: 84190\n  end_ms: 86800\n- text: Take it as a threat, better yet it's a promise\n  start_ms: 86800\n  end_ms: 89030\n- text: Comin' from a vet on some old Vietnam shit\n  start_ms: 89030\n  end_ms: 91440\n- text: Nigga, you can bet your bottom dollar, hey, I bomb shit\n  start_ms: 91440\n  end_ms: 93780\n- text: And it's gonna get even worse, word to God\n  start_ms: 93780\n  end_ms: 95950\n- text: It's the Wu comin' through, stickin' niggas for they garments\n  start_ms: 95950\n  end_ms: 98440\n- text: Movin' on your left, southpaw, Mr. Meth\n  start_ms: 98440\n  end_ms: 100700\n- text: Came to represent and carve my name in your chest\n  start_ms: 100700\n  end_ms: 103100\n- text: You can come test, realize you're no contest\n  start_ms: 103100\n  end_ms: 105620\n- text: Son, I'm the gun that won that old Wild West\n  start_ms: 105620\n  end_ms: 107890\n- text: Quick on the draw with my hands on the four-\n  start_ms: 107890\n  end_ms: 110150\n- text: Nine-three-eleven with the rugged rhymes galore\n  start_ms: 110150\n  end_ms: 112520\n- text: Check it, 'cause I think not when this hip-hops like proper\n  start_ms: 112520\n  end_ms: 115420\n- text: Rhymes be the proof while I'm drinkin' 90 proof\n  start_ms: 115420\n  end_ms: 117630\n- text: Huh, vodka, no OJ, no straw\n  start_ms: 117630\n  end_ms: 120290\n- text: When you give it to me, ayy, give it to me raw\n  start_ms: 120290\n  end_ms: 122570\n- text: I've learned that when you drink Absolut straight it burns\n  start_ms: 122570\n  end_ms: 125460\n- text: Enough to give my chest hairs a perm\n  start_ms: 125460\n  end_ms: 127340\n- text: I don't need a chemical blow to pull a ho\n  start_ms: 127340\n  end_ms: 129620\n- text: All I need is Chemical Bank to pay the roll\n  start_ms: 129620\n  end_ms: 132460\n- text: What, basically that, Meth-Tical, '94 style\n  start_ms: 132460\n  end_ms: 136410\n- text: (Northern spicy brown mustard hoes, word up, we be hazardous)\n  start_ms: 136410\n  end_ms: 138790\n- text: We have to stick you\n  start_ms: 138790\n  end_ms: 141260\n- text: Is it real, son, is it really real, son? (Motherfucker, I'll fuckin')\n  start_ms: 141260\n  end_ms: 143490\n- text: Let me know it's real, son, if it's really real\n  start_ms: 143490\n  end_ms: 145540\n- text: Something I could feel, son, load it up and kill one\n  start_ms: 145540\n  end_ms: 147990\n- text: Want it raw deal, son, if it's really real\n  start_ms: 147990\n  end_ms: 150520\n- text: I'll fuckin', I'll fuckin' cut your kneecaps off\n  start_ms: 150520\n  end_ms: 154960\n- text: And make you kneel at some staircase, piss\n  start_ms: 154960\n  end_ms: 158460\n- text: I'll fuckin' cut your eyelids off and feed you nothin' but sleepin' pills\n  start_ms: 158460\n  end_ms: 174310\n- text: Get yours, motherfucker\n  start_ms: 174310\n  end_ms: 181160\n- text: So fuck the ho, fuck the ho\n  start_ms: 181160\n  end_ms: 185060\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 185060\nplain: |-\n  Basically\n  Can't fuck with me\n\n  I came to bring the pain hardcore from the brain\n  Let's go inside my astral plane\n  Find out my mental, based on instrumental\n  Records, hey, so I can write monumental\n  Methods, I'm not the king\n  But niggas is decaf, I stick 'em for the cream\n  Check it, just how deep can shit get\n  Deep as the abyss and brothers is mad, fish accept it\n\n  In your Cross Colour clothes, you've crossed over\n  Then got Totally Krossed Out and Kris Krossed\n  Who the boss? Niggas get tossed to the side\n  And I'm the dark side of the Force\n  Of course it's the Method, Man from the Wu-Tang Clan\n  I be hectic, and comin' for the head piece, protect it\n  Fuck it, two tears in a bucket\n  Niggas want the ruckus\n  Bustin' at me, bruh, now bust it\n\n  Styles, I gets buckwild\n  Method Man on some shit, pullin' niggas files, I'm sick\n  Insane, crazy, driving Miss Daisy\n  Out her fucking mind, now I got mine, I'm Swayze\n\n  Is it real, son, is it really real, son?\n  Let me know it's real, son, if it's really real\n  Something I could feel, son, load it up and kill one\n  Want it raw deal, son, if it's really real, yeah, uh\n\n  When I was a likle stereo (stereo)\n  I listen to some Champion (Champion)\n  I always wondered (wondered)\n  When I will be di number one (Tical)\n  And now yuh listen to di Gorgon (Gorgon)\n  And a Gorgon sound a Rein\n  An' any jump and come tes' mi (test me)\n  Mi a-go lick out dem brain (it's like that)\n\n  Brothers wanna hang with the Meth, bring the rope\n  The only way you'll hang is by the neck\n  Nigga, bolt off the set, comin' to your projects\n  Take it as a threat, better yet it's a promise\n  Comin' from a vet on some old Vietnam shit\n  Nigga, you can bet your bottom dollar, hey, I bomb shit\n  And it's gonna get even worse, word to God\n  It's the Wu comin' through, stickin' niggas for they garments\n\n  Movin' on your left, southpaw, Mr. Meth\n  Came to represent and carve my name in your chest\n  You can come test, realize you're no contest\n  Son, I'm the gun that won that old Wild West\n  Quick on the draw with my hands on the four-\n  Nine-three-eleven with the rugged rhymes galore\n  Check it, 'cause I think not when this hip-hops like proper\n  Rhymes be the proof while I'm drinkin' 90 proof\n\n  Huh, vodka, no OJ, no straw\n  When you give it to me, ayy, give it to me raw\n  I've learned that when you drink Absolut straight it burns\n  Enough to give my chest hairs a perm\n  I don't need a chemical blow to pull a ho\n  All I need is Chemical Bank to pay the roll\n\n  What, basically that, Meth-Tical, '94 style\n  (Northern spicy brown mustard hoes, word up, we be hazardous)\n  We have to stick you\n\n  Is it real, son, is it really real, son? (Motherfucker, I'll fuckin')\n  Let me know it's real, son, if it's really real\n  Something I could feel, son, load it up and kill one\n  Want it raw deal, son, if it's really real\n\n  I'll fuckin', I'll fuckin' cut your kneecaps off\n  And make you kneel at some staircase, piss\n  I'll fuckin' cut your eyelids off and feed you nothin' but sleepin' pills\n  Get yours, motherfucker\n  So fuck the ho, fuck the ho\n"},{"id":13406409,"name":"Bring The Pain (Instrumental)","trackName":"Bring The Pain (Instrumental)","artistName":"Method Man","albumName":"Bring The Pain","duration":196.832625,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Basically, can't fuck with me\n\nI came to bring the pain hardcore from the brain\nLet's go inside my astral plane\nFind out my mental's based on instrumental\nRecords hey so I can write monumental\nMethods, I'm not the King\nBut niggas is decaf I stick 'em for the cream\nCheck it just how deep can shit get\nDeep as the abyss and brothers is mad fish accept it\nIn your Cross Color clothes you've crossed over\nThen got Totally Krossed Out and Kris Kross\nWho the boss? Niggas get tossed to the side\nAnd I'm the dark side of the Force\nOf course it's the Method, Man from the Wu-Tang Clan\nI be hectic, and coming for the head piece protect it\nFuck it, two tears in a bucket, niggas want the ruckus\nBustin' at me bruh, now bust it\nStyles, I gets buckwild\nMethod Man on some shit, pulling niggas files\nI'm sick, insane, crazy, Drivin' Miss Daisy\nOut her fuckin' mind now I got mine I'm Swayze\n\nIs it real son, is it really real son\nLet me know it's real son, if it's really real\nSomething I could feel son, load it up and kill one\nWant it raw deal son, if it's really real\n\nAnd when I was a lil' stereo (Stereo)\nI listened to some champion (Champion)\nI always wondered (Wondered)\nWill now I be the number one (Tical hahaha)\nNow you listen to the Gargon (Gargon)\nAnd the Gargon summary\nAnd any man dat come test me (Test me)\nMe gwanna lick out them brains (It's like that)\n\nBrothers want to hang with the Meth bring the rope\nThe only way you hang is by the neck nigga poke\nOff the set comin' to your projects\nTake it as a threat, better yet it's a promise\nComin' from a vet on some old Vietnam shit\nNigga you can bet your bottom dollar hey I bomb shit\nAnd it's gonna get even worse word to God\nIt's the Wu comin' through sickin niggaz for they garments\nMovin' on your left, southpaw em it's the Meth\nCame to represent and carve my name in your chest\nYou can come test realize you're no contest\nSon I'm the gun that won that old Wild West\nQuick on the draw with my hands on the four\nNine three eleven with the rugged rhymes galore\nCheck it cause I think not when this hip-hops like proper\nRhymes be the proof while I'm drinkin' 90 proof\nHuh vodka, no OJ, no straw\nWhen you give it to me aiy, give it to me raw\nI've learned when you drink Absolut straight it burns\nEnough to give my chest hairs a perm\nI don't need a chemical blow to pull a hoe\nAll I need is Chemical Bank to pay da mo'\n\nWhat, basically that, Meth-Tical, ninety-four style\nWord up we be hazardous\nNorthern spicy brown mustard hoes\nWe have to stick you\n\nIs it real son, is it really real son\nLet me know it's real son, if it's really real\nSomething I could feel son, load it up and kill one\nWant it raw deal son, if it's really real","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Bring The Pain (Instrumental)\n  artist: Method Man\n  album: Bring The Pain\n  duration_ms: 196833\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  Basically, can't fuck with me\n\n  I came to bring the pain hardcore from the brain\n  Let's go inside my astral plane\n  Find out my mental's based on instrumental\n  Records hey so I can write monumental\n  Methods, I'm not the King\n  But niggas is decaf I stick 'em for the cream\n  Check it just how deep can shit get\n  Deep as the abyss and brothers is mad fish accept it\n  In your Cross Color clothes you've crossed over\n  Then got Totally Krossed Out and Kris Kross\n  Who the boss? Niggas get tossed to the side\n  And I'm the dark side of the Force\n  Of course it's the Method, Man from the Wu-Tang Clan\n  I be hectic, and coming for the head piece protect it\n  Fuck it, two tears in a bucket, niggas want the ruckus\n  Bustin' at me bruh, now bust it\n  Styles, I gets buckwild\n  Method Man on some shit, pulling niggas files\n  I'm sick, insane, crazy, Drivin' Miss Daisy\n  Out her fuckin' mind now I got mine I'm Swayze\n\n  Is it real son, is it really real son\n  Let me know it's real son, if it's really real\n  Something I could feel son, load it up and kill one\n  Want it raw deal son, if it's really real\n\n  And when I was a lil' stereo (Stereo)\n  I listened to some champion (Champion)\n  I always wondered (Wondered)\n  Will now I be the number one (Tical hahaha)\n  Now you listen to the Gargon (Gargon)\n  And the Gargon summary\n  And any man dat come test me (Test me)\n  Me gwanna lick out them brains (It's like that)\n\n  Brothers want to hang with the Meth bring the rope\n  The only way you hang is by the neck nigga poke\n  Off the set comin' to your projects\n  Take it as a threat, better yet it's a promise\n  Comin' from a vet on some old Vietnam shit\n  Nigga you can bet your bottom dollar hey I bomb shit\n  And it's gonna get even worse word to God\n  It's the Wu comin' through sickin niggaz for they garments\n  Movin' on your left, southpaw em it's the Meth\n  Came to represent and carve my name in your chest\n  You can come test realize you're no contest\n  Son I'm the gun that won that old Wild West\n  Quick on the draw with my hands on the four\n  Nine three eleven with the rugged rhymes galore\n  Check it cause I think not when this hip-hops like proper\n  Rhymes be the proof while I'm drinkin' 90 proof\n  Huh vodka, no OJ, no straw\n  When you give it to me aiy, give it to me raw\n  I've learned when you drink Absolut straight it burns\n  Enough to give my chest hairs a perm\n  I don't need a chemical blow to pull a hoe\n  All I need is Chemical Bank to pay da mo'\n\n  What, basically that, Meth-Tical, ninety-four style\n  Word up we be hazardous\n  Northern spicy brown mustard hoes\n  We have to stick you\n\n  Is it real son, is it really real son\n  Let me know it's real son, if it's really real\n  Something I could feel son, load it up and kill one\n  Want it raw deal son, if it's really real\n"},{"id":19773590,"name":"Bring The Pain (Radio Edit)","trackName":"Bring The Pain (Radio Edit)","artistName":"Method Man","albumName":"Bring The Pain","duration":184.560417,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Basically\nCan't fuck with me\n\nI came to bring the pain hardcore from the brain\nLet's go inside my astral plane\nFind out my mental, based on instrumental\nRecords, hey, so I can write monumental\nMethods, I'm not the king\nBut niggas is decaf, I stick 'em for the cream\nCheck it, just how deep can shit get\nDeep as the abyss and brothers is mad, fish accept it\n\nIn your Cross Colour clothes, you've crossed over\nThen got Totally Krossed Out and Kris Krossed\nWho the boss? Niggas get tossed to the side\nAnd I'm the dark side of the Force\nOf course it's the Method, Man from the Wu-Tang Clan\nI be hectic, and comin' for the head piece, protect it\nFuck it, two tears in a bucket\nNiggas want the ruckus\nBustin' at me, bruh, now bust it\n\nStyles, I gets buckwild\nMethod Man on some shit, pullin' niggas files, I'm sick\nInsane, crazy, driving Miss Daisy\nOut her fucking mind, now I got mine, I'm Swayze\n\nIs it real, son, is it really real, son?\nLet me know it's real, son, if it's really real\nSomething I could feel, son, load it up and kill one\nWant it raw deal, son, if it's really real, yeah, uh\n\nWhen I was a likle stereo (stereo)\nI listen to some Champion (Champion)\nI always wondered (wondered)\nWhen I will be di number one (Tical)\nAnd now yuh listen to di Gorgon (Gorgon)\nAnd a Gorgon sound a Rein\nAn' any jump and come tes' mi (test me)\nMi a-go lick out dem brain (it's like that)\n\nBrothers wanna hang with the Meth, bring the rope\nThe only way you'll hang is by the neck\nNigga, bolt off the set, comin' to your projects\nTake it as a threat, better yet it's a promise\nComin' from a vet on some old Vietnam shit\nNigga, you can bet your bottom dollar, hey, I bomb shit\nAnd it's gonna get even worse, word to God\nIt's the Wu comin' through, stickin' niggas for they garments\n\nMovin' on your left, southpaw, Mr. Meth\nCame to represent and carve my name in your chest\nYou can come test, realize you're no contest\nSon, I'm the gun that won that old Wild West\nQuick on the draw with my hands on the four-\nNine-three-eleven with the rugged rhymes galore\nCheck it, 'cause I think not when this hip-hops like proper\nRhymes be the proof while I'm drinkin' 90 proof\n\nHuh, vodka, no OJ, no straw\nWhen you give it to me, ayy, give it to me raw\nI've learned that when you drink Absolut straight it burns\nEnough to give my chest hairs a perm\nI don't need a chemical blow to pull a ho\nAll I need is Chemical Bank to pay the roll\n\nWhat, basically that, Meth-Tical, '94 style\n(Northern spicy brown mustard hoes, word up, we be hazardous)\nWe have to stick you\n\nIs it real, son, is it really real, son? (Motherfucker, I'll fuckin')\nLet me know it's real, son, if it's really real\nSomething I could feel, son, load it up and kill one\nWant it raw deal, son, if it's really real\n\nI'll fuckin', I'll fuckin' cut your kneecaps off\nAnd make you kneel at some staircase, piss\nI'll fuckin' cut your eyelids off and feed you nothin' but sleepin' pills\nGet yours, motherfucker\nSo fuck the ho, fuck the ho","syncedLyrics":"[00:00.20] Basically\n[00:02.67] Can't fuck with me\n[00:04.69] I came to bring the pain hardcore from the brain\n[00:07.78] Let's go inside my astral plane\n[00:09.53] Find out my mental, based on instrumental\n[00:11.73] Records, hey, so I can write monumental\n[00:14.18] Methods, I'm not the king\n[00:15.87] But niggas is decaf, I stick 'em for the cream\n[00:18.24] Check it, just how deep can shit get\n[00:20.67] Deep as the abyss and brothers is mad, fish accept it\n[00:23.61] In your Cross Colour clothes, you've crossed over\n[00:25.96] Then got Totally Krossed Out and Kris Krossed\n[00:28.39] Who the boss? Niggas get tossed to the side\n[00:30.66] And I'm the dark side of the Force\n[00:32.45] Of course it's the Method, Man from the Wu-Tang Clan\n[00:35.24] I be hectic, and comin' for the head piece, protect it\n[00:37.74] Fuck it, two tears in a bucket\n[00:39.41] Niggas want the ruckus\n[00:40.68] Bustin' at me, bruh, now bust it\n[00:42.44] Styles, I gets buckwild\n[00:44.09] Method Man on some shit, pullin' niggas files, I'm sick\n[00:47.13] Insane, crazy, driving Miss Daisy\n[00:49.59] Out her fucking mind, now I got mine, I'm Swayze\n[00:51.62] Is it real, son, is it really real, son?\n[00:53.77] Let me know it's real, son, if it's really real\n[00:56.25] Something I could feel, son, load it up and kill one\n[00:58.36] Want it raw deal, son, if it's really real, yeah, uh\n[01:01.53] When I was a likle stereo (stereo)\n[01:03.65] I listen to some Champion (Champion)\n[01:06.04] I always wondered (wondered)\n[01:08.42] When I will be di number one (Tical)\n[01:10.75] And now yuh listen to di Gorgon (Gorgon)\n[01:13.20] And a Gorgon sound a Rein\n[01:15.60] An' any jump and come tes' mi (test me)\n[01:17.82] Mi a-go lick out dem brain (it's like that)\n[01:20.02] Brothers wanna hang with the Meth, bring the rope\n[01:22.44] The only way you'll hang is by the neck\n[01:24.19] Nigga, bolt off the set, comin' to your projects\n[01:26.79] Take it as a threat, better yet it's a promise\n[01:29.08] Comin' from a vet on some old Vietnam shit\n[01:31.46] Nigga, you can bet your bottom dollar, hey, I bomb shit\n[01:33.70] And it's gonna get even worse, word to God\n[01:35.93] It's the Wu comin' through, stickin' niggas for they garments\n[01:38.44] Movin' on your left, southpaw, Mr. Meth\n[01:40.76] Came to represent and carve my name in your chest\n[01:43.10] You can come test, realize you're no contest\n[01:45.68] Son, I'm the gun that won that old Wild West\n[01:47.81] Quick on the draw with my hands on the four-\n[01:50.19] Nine-three-eleven with the rugged rhymes galore\n[01:52.56] Check it, 'cause I think not when this hip-hops like proper\n[01:55.45] Rhymes be the proof while I'm drinkin' 90 proof\n[01:57.70] Huh, vodka, no OJ, no straw\n[02:00.29] When you give it to me, ayy, give it to me raw\n[02:02.53] I've learned that when you drink Absolut straight it burns\n[02:05.41] Enough to give my chest hairs a perm\n[02:07.36] I don't need a chemical blow to pull a ho\n[02:09.70] All I need is Chemical Bank to pay the roll\n[02:12.47] What, basically that, Meth-Tical, '94 style\n[02:16.50] (Northern spicy brown mustard hoes, word up, we be hazardous)\n[02:18.75] We have to stick you\n[02:21.21] Is it real, son, is it really real, son? (Motherfucker, I'll fuckin')\n[02:23.42] Let me know it's real, son, if it's really real\n[02:25.59] Something I could feel, son, load it up and kill one\n[02:27.92] Want it raw deal, son, if it's really real\n[02:30.52] I'll fuckin', I'll fuckin' cut your kneecaps off\n[02:34.91] And make you kneel at some staircase, piss\n[02:38.43] I'll fuckin' cut your eyelids off and feed you nothin' but sleepin' pills\n[02:54.35] Get yours, motherfucker\n[03:01.11] So fuck the ho, fuck the ho\n[03:05.03] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Bring The Pain (Radio Edit)\n  artist: Method Man\n  album: Bring The Pain\n  duration_ms: 184560\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Basically\n  start_ms: 200\n  end_ms: 2670\n- text: Can't fuck with me\n  start_ms: 2670\n  end_ms: 4690\n- text: I came to bring the pain hardcore from the brain\n  start_ms: 4690\n  end_ms: 7780\n- text: Let's go inside my astral plane\n  start_ms: 7780\n  end_ms: 9530\n- text: Find out my mental, based on instrumental\n  start_ms: 9530\n  end_ms: 11730\n- text: Records, hey, so I can write monumental\n  start_ms: 11730\n  end_ms: 14180\n- text: Methods, I'm not the king\n  start_ms: 14180\n  end_ms: 15870\n- text: But niggas is decaf, I stick 'em for the cream\n  start_ms: 15870\n  end_ms: 18240\n- text: Check it, just how deep can shit get\n  start_ms: 18240\n  end_ms: 20670\n- text: Deep as the abyss and brothers is mad, fish accept it\n  start_ms: 20670\n  end_ms: 23610\n- text: In your Cross Colour clothes, you've crossed over\n  start_ms: 23610\n  end_ms: 25960\n- text: Then got Totally Krossed Out and Kris Krossed\n  start_ms: 25960\n  end_ms: 28390\n- text: Who the boss? Niggas get tossed to the side\n  start_ms: 28390\n  end_ms: 30660\n- text: And I'm the dark side of the Force\n  start_ms: 30660\n  end_ms: 32450\n- text: Of course it's the Method, Man from the Wu-Tang Clan\n  start_ms: 32450\n  end_ms: 35240\n- text: I be hectic, and comin' for the head piece, protect it\n  start_ms: 35240\n  end_ms: 37740\n- text: Fuck it, two tears in a bucket\n  start_ms: 37740\n  end_ms: 39410\n- text: Niggas want the ruckus\n  start_ms: 39410\n  end_ms: 40680\n- text: Bustin' at me, bruh, now bust it\n  start_ms: 40680\n  end_ms: 42440\n- text: Styles, I gets buckwild\n  start_ms: 42440\n  end_ms: 44090\n- text: Method Man on some shit, pullin' niggas files, I'm sick\n  start_ms: 44090\n  end_ms: 47130\n- text: Insane, crazy, driving Miss Daisy\n  start_ms: 47130\n  end_ms: 49590\n- text: Out her fucking mind, now I got mine, I'm Swayze\n  start_ms: 49590\n  end_ms: 51620\n- text: Is it real, son, is it really real, son?\n  start_ms: 51620\n  end_ms: 53770\n- text: Let me know it's real, son, if it's really real\n  start_ms: 53770\n  end_ms: 56250\n- text: Something I could feel, son, load it up and kill one\n  start_ms: 56250\n  end_ms: 58360\n- text: Want it raw deal, son, if it's really real, yeah, uh\n  start_ms: 58360\n  end_ms: 61530\n- text: When I was a likle stereo (stereo)\n  start_ms: 61530\n  end_ms: 63650\n- text: I listen to some Champion (Champion)\n  start_ms: 63650\n  end_ms: 66040\n- text: I always wondered (wondered)\n  start_ms: 66040\n  end_ms: 68420\n- text: When I will be di number one (Tical)\n  start_ms: 68420\n  end_ms: 70750\n- text: And now yuh listen to di Gorgon (Gorgon)\n  start_ms: 70750\n  end_ms: 73200\n- text: And a Gorgon sound a Rein\n  start_ms: 73200\n  end_ms: 75600\n- text: An' any jump and come tes' mi (test me)\n  start_ms: 75600\n  end_ms: 77820\n- text: Mi a-go lick out dem brain (it's like that)\n  start_ms: 77820\n  end_ms: 80020\n- text: Brothers wanna hang with the Meth, bring the rope\n  start_ms: 80020\n  end_ms: 82440\n- text: The only way you'll hang is by the neck\n  start_ms: 82440\n  end_ms: 84190\n- text: Nigga, bolt off the set, comin' to your projects\n  start_ms: 84190\n  end_ms: 86790\n- text: Take it as a threat, better yet it's a promise\n  start_ms: 86790\n  end_ms: 89080\n- text: Comin' from a vet on some old Vietnam shit\n  start_ms: 89080\n  end_ms: 91460\n- text: Nigga, you can bet your bottom dollar, hey, I bomb shit\n  start_ms: 91460\n  end_ms: 93700\n- text: And it's gonna get even worse, word to God\n  start_ms: 93700\n  end_ms: 95930\n- text: It's the Wu comin' through, stickin' niggas for they garments\n  start_ms: 95930\n  end_ms: 98440\n- text: Movin' on your left, southpaw, Mr. Meth\n  start_ms: 98440\n  end_ms: 100760\n- text: Came to represent and carve my name in your chest\n  start_ms: 100760\n  end_ms: 103100\n- text: You can come test, realize you're no contest\n  start_ms: 103100\n  end_ms: 105680\n- text: Son, I'm the gun that won that old Wild West\n  start_ms: 105680\n  end_ms: 107810\n- text: Quick on the draw with my hands on the four-\n  start_ms: 107810\n  end_ms: 110190\n- text: Nine-three-eleven with the rugged rhymes galore\n  start_ms: 110190\n  end_ms: 112560\n- text: Check it, 'cause I think not when this hip-hops like proper\n  start_ms: 112560\n  end_ms: 115450\n- text: Rhymes be the proof while I'm drinkin' 90 proof\n  start_ms: 115450\n  end_ms: 117700\n- text: Huh, vodka, no OJ, no straw\n  start_ms: 117700\n  end_ms: 120290\n- text: When you give it to me, ayy, give it to me raw\n  start_ms: 120290\n  end_ms: 122530\n- text: I've learned that when you drink Absolut straight it burns\n  start_ms: 122530\n  end_ms: 125410\n- text: Enough to give my chest hairs a perm\n  start_ms: 125410\n  end_ms: 127360\n- text: I don't need a chemical blow to pull a ho\n  start_ms: 127360\n  end_ms: 129700\n- text: All I need is Chemical Bank to pay the roll\n  start_ms: 129700\n  end_ms: 132470\n- text: What, basically that, Meth-Tical, '94 style\n  start_ms: 132470\n  end_ms: 136500\n- text: (Northern spicy brown mustard hoes, word up, we be hazardous)\n  start_ms: 136500\n  end_ms: 138750\n- text: We have to stick you\n  start_ms: 138750\n  end_ms: 141210\n- text: Is it real, son, is it really real, son? (Motherfucker, I'll fuckin')\n  start_ms: 141210\n  end_ms: 143420\n- text: Let me know it's real, son, if it's really real\n  start_ms: 143420\n  end_ms: 145590\n- text: Something I could feel, son, load it up and kill one\n  start_ms: 145590\n  end_ms: 147920\n- text: Want it raw deal, son, if it's really real\n  start_ms: 147920\n  end_ms: 150520\n- text: I'll fuckin', I'll fuckin' cut your kneecaps off\n  start_ms: 150520\n  end_ms: 154910\n- text: And make you kneel at some staircase, piss\n  start_ms: 154910\n  end_ms: 158430\n- text: I'll fuckin' cut your eyelids off and feed you nothin' but sleepin' pills\n  start_ms: 158430\n  end_ms: 174350\n- text: Get yours, motherfucker\n  start_ms: 174350\n  end_ms: 181110\n- text: So fuck the ho, fuck the ho\n  start_ms: 181110\n  end_ms: 185030\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 185030\nplain: |-\n  Basically\n  Can't fuck with me\n\n  I came to bring the pain hardcore from the brain\n  Let's go inside my astral plane\n  Find out my mental, based on instrumental\n  Records, hey, so I can write monumental\n  Methods, I'm not the king\n  But niggas is decaf, I stick 'em for the cream\n  Check it, just how deep can shit get\n  Deep as the abyss and brothers is mad, fish accept it\n\n  In your Cross Colour clothes, you've crossed over\n  Then got Totally Krossed Out and Kris Krossed\n  Who the boss? Niggas get tossed to the side\n  And I'm the dark side of the Force\n  Of course it's the Method, Man from the Wu-Tang Clan\n  I be hectic, and comin' for the head piece, protect it\n  Fuck it, two tears in a bucket\n  Niggas want the ruckus\n  Bustin' at me, bruh, now bust it\n\n  Styles, I gets buckwild\n  Method Man on some shit, pullin' niggas files, I'm sick\n  Insane, crazy, driving Miss Daisy\n  Out her fucking mind, now I got mine, I'm Swayze\n\n  Is it real, son, is it really real, son?\n  Let me know it's real, son, if it's really real\n  Something I could feel, son, load it up and kill one\n  Want it raw deal, son, if it's really real, yeah, uh\n\n  When I was a likle stereo (stereo)\n  I listen to some Champion (Champion)\n  I always wondered (wondered)\n  When I will be di number one (Tical)\n  And now yuh listen to di Gorgon (Gorgon)\n  And a Gorgon sound a Rein\n  An' any jump and come tes' mi (test me)\n  Mi a-go lick out dem brain (it's like that)\n\n  Brothers wanna hang with the Meth, bring the rope\n  The only way you'll hang is by the neck\n  Nigga, bolt off the set, comin' to your projects\n  Take it as a threat, better yet it's a promise\n  Comin' from a vet on some old Vietnam shit\n  Nigga, you can bet your bottom dollar, hey, I bomb shit\n  And it's gonna get even worse, word to God\n  It's the Wu comin' through, stickin' niggas for they garments\n\n  Movin' on your left, southpaw, Mr. Meth\n  Came to represent and carve my name in your chest\n  You can come test, realize you're no contest\n  Son, I'm the gun that won that old Wild West\n  Quick on the draw with my hands on the four-\n  Nine-three-eleven with the rugged rhymes galore\n  Check it, 'cause I think not when this hip-hops like proper\n  Rhymes be the proof while I'm drinkin' 90 proof\n\n  Huh, vodka, no OJ, no straw\n  When you give it to me, ayy, give it to me raw\n  I've learned that when you drink Absolut straight it burns\n  Enough to give my chest hairs a perm\n  I don't need a chemical blow to pull a ho\n  All I need is Chemical Bank to pay the roll\n\n  What, basically that, Meth-Tical, '94 style\n  (Northern spicy brown mustard hoes, word up, we be hazardous)\n  We have to stick you\n\n  Is it real, son, is it really real, son? (Motherfucker, I'll fuckin')\n  Let me know it's real, son, if it's really real\n  Something I could feel, son, load it up and kill one\n  Want it raw deal, son, if it's really real\n\n  I'll fuckin', I'll fuckin' cut your kneecaps off\n  And make you kneel at some staircase, piss\n  I'll fuckin' cut your eyelids off and feed you nothin' but sleepin' pills\n  Get yours, motherfucker\n  So fuck the ho, fuck the ho\n"},{"id":13401524,"name":"Bring The Pain (LP Version)","trackName":"Bring The Pain (LP Version)","artistName":"Method Man","albumName":"Bring The Pain","duration":189.884082,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Basically\nCan't fuck with me\n\nI came to bring the pain hardcore from the brain\nLet's go inside my astral plane\nFind out my mental, based on instrumental\nRecords, hey, so I can write monumental\nMethods, I'm not the king\nBut niggas is decaf, I stick 'em for the cream\nCheck it, just how deep can shit get\nDeep as the abyss and brothers is mad, fish accept it\n\nIn your Cross Colour clothes, you've crossed over\nThen got Totally Krossed Out and Kris Krossed\nWho the boss? Niggas get tossed to the side\nAnd I'm the dark side of the Force\nOf course it's the Method, Man from the Wu-Tang Clan\nI be hectic, and comin' for the head piece, protect it\nFuck it, two tears in a bucket\nNiggas want the ruckus\nBustin' at me, bruh, now bust it\n\nStyles, I gets buckwild\nMethod Man on some shit, pullin' niggas files, I'm sick\nInsane, crazy, driving Miss Daisy\nOut her fucking mind, now I got mine, I'm Swayze\n\nIs it real, son, is it really real, son?\nLet me know it's real, son, if it's really real\nSomething I could feel, son, load it up and kill one\nWant it raw deal, son, if it's really real, yeah, uh\n\nWhen I was a likle stereo (stereo)\nI listen to some Champion (Champion)\nI always wondered (wondered)\nWhen I will be di number one (Tical)\nAnd now yuh listen to di Gorgon (Gorgon)\nAnd a Gorgon sound a Rein\nAn' any jump and come tes' mi (test me)\nMi a-go lick out dem brain (it's like that)\n\nBrothers wanna hang with the Meth, bring the rope\nThe only way you'll hang is by the neck\nNigga, bolt off the set, comin' to your projects\nTake it as a threat, better yet it's a promise\nComin' from a vet on some old Vietnam shit\nNigga, you can bet your bottom dollar, hey, I bomb shit\nAnd it's gonna get even worse, word to God\nIt's the Wu comin' through, stickin' niggas for they garments\n\nMovin' on your left, southpaw, Mr. Meth\nCame to represent and carve my name in your chest\nYou can come test, realize you're no contest\nSon, I'm the gun that won that old Wild West\nQuick on the draw with my hands on the four-\nNine-three-eleven with the rugged rhymes galore\nCheck it, 'cause I think not when this hip-hops like proper\nRhymes be the proof while I'm drinkin' 90 proof\n\nHuh, vodka, no OJ, no straw\nWhen you give it to me, ayy, give it to me raw\nI've learned that when you drink Absolut straight it burns\nEnough to give my chest hairs a perm\nI don't need a chemical blow to pull a ho\nAll I need is Chemical Bank to pay the roll\n\nWhat, basically that, Meth-Tical, '94 style\n(Northern spicy brown mustard hoes, word up, we be hazardous)\nWe have to stick you\n\nIs it real, son, is it really real, son? (Motherfucker, I'll fuckin')\nLet me know it's real, son, if it's really real\nSomething I could feel, son, load it up and kill one\nWant it raw deal, son, if it's really real\n\nI'll fuckin', I'll fuckin' cut your kneecaps off\nAnd make you kneel at some staircase, piss\nI'll fuckin' cut your eyelids off and feed you nothin' but sleepin' pills\nGet yours, motherfucker\nSo fuck the ho, fuck the ho","syncedLyrics":"[00:00.20] Basically\n[00:02.67] Can't fuck with me\n[00:04.69] I came to bring the pain hardcore from the brain\n[00:07.78] Let's go inside my astral plane\n[00:09.53] Find out my mental, based on instrumental\n[00:11.73] Records, hey, so I can write monumental\n[00:14.18] Methods, I'm not the king\n[00:15.87] But niggas is decaf, I stick 'em for the cream\n[00:18.24] Check it, just how deep can shit get\n[00:20.67] Deep as the abyss and brothers is mad, fish accept it\n[00:23.61] In your Cross Colour clothes, you've crossed over\n[00:25.96] Then got Totally Krossed Out and Kris Krossed\n[00:28.39] Who the boss? Niggas get tossed to the side\n[00:30.66] And I'm the dark side of the Force\n[00:32.45] Of course it's the Method, Man from the Wu-Tang Clan\n[00:35.24] I be hectic, and comin' for the head piece, protect it\n[00:37.74] Fuck it, two tears in a bucket\n[00:39.41] Niggas want the ruckus\n[00:40.68] Bustin' at me, bruh, now bust it\n[00:42.44] Styles, I gets buckwild\n[00:44.09] Method Man on some shit, pullin' niggas files, I'm sick\n[00:47.13] Insane, crazy, driving Miss Daisy\n[00:49.59] Out her fucking mind, now I got mine, I'm Swayze\n[00:51.62] Is it real, son, is it really real, son?\n[00:53.77] Let me know it's real, son, if it's really real\n[00:56.25] Something I could feel, son, load it up and kill one\n[00:58.36] Want it raw deal, son, if it's really real, yeah, uh\n[01:01.53] When I was a likle stereo (stereo)\n[01:03.65] I listen to some Champion (Champion)\n[01:06.04] I always wondered (wondered)\n[01:08.42] When I will be di number one (Tical)\n[01:10.75] And now yuh listen to di Gorgon (Gorgon)\n[01:13.20] And a Gorgon sound a Rein\n[01:15.60] An' any jump and come tes' mi (test me)\n[01:17.82] Mi a-go lick out dem brain (it's like that)\n[01:20.02] Brothers wanna hang with the Meth, bring the rope\n[01:22.44] The only way you'll hang is by the neck\n[01:24.19] Nigga, bolt off the set, comin' to your projects\n[01:26.79] Take it as a threat, better yet it's a promise\n[01:29.08] Comin' from a vet on some old Vietnam shit\n[01:31.46] Nigga, you can bet your bottom dollar, hey, I bomb shit\n[01:33.70] And it's gonna get even worse, word to God\n[01:35.93] It's the Wu comin' through, stickin' niggas for they garments\n[01:38.44] Movin' on your left, southpaw, Mr. Meth\n[01:40.76] Came to represent and carve my name in your chest\n[01:43.10] You can come test, realize you're no contest\n[01:45.68] Son, I'm the gun that won that old Wild West\n[01:47.81] Quick on the draw with my hands on the four-\n[01:50.19] Nine-three-eleven with the rugged rhymes galore\n[01:52.56] Check it, 'cause I think not when this hip-hops like proper\n[01:55.45] Rhymes be the proof while I'm drinkin' 90 proof\n[01:57.70] Huh, vodka, no OJ, no straw\n[02:00.29] When you give it to me, ayy, give it to me raw\n[02:02.53] I've learned that when you drink Absolut straight it burns\n[02:05.41] Enough to give my chest hairs a perm\n[02:07.36] I don't need a chemical blow to pull a ho\n[02:09.70] All I need is Chemical Bank to pay the roll\n[02:12.47] What, basically that, Meth-Tical, '94 style\n[02:16.50] (Northern spicy brown mustard hoes, word up, we be hazardous)\n[02:18.75] We have to stick you\n[02:21.21] Is it real, son, is it really real, son? (Motherfucker, I'll fuckin')\n[02:23.42] Let me know it's real, son, if it's really real\n[02:25.59] Something I could feel, son, load it up and kill one\n[02:27.92] Want it raw deal, son, if it's really real\n[02:30.52] I'll fuckin', I'll fuckin' cut your kneecaps off\n[02:34.91] And make you kneel at some staircase, piss\n[02:38.43] I'll fuckin' cut your eyelids off and feed you nothin' but sleepin' pills\n[02:54.35] Get yours, motherfucker\n[03:01.11] So fuck the ho, fuck the ho\n[03:05.03] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Bring The Pain (LP Version)\n  artist: Method Man\n  album: Bring The Pain\n  duration_ms: 189884\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Basically\n  start_ms: 200\n  end_ms: 2670\n- text: Can't fuck with me\n  start_ms: 2670\n  end_ms: 4690\n- text: I came to bring the pain hardcore from the brain\n  start_ms: 4690\n  end_ms: 7780\n- text: Let's go inside my astral plane\n  start_ms: 7780\n  end_ms: 9530\n- text: Find out my mental, based on instrumental\n  start_ms: 9530\n  end_ms: 11730\n- text: Records, hey, so I can write monumental\n  start_ms: 11730\n  end_ms: 14180\n- text: Methods, I'm not the king\n  start_ms: 14180\n  end_ms: 15870\n- text: But niggas is decaf, I stick 'em for the cream\n  start_ms: 15870\n  end_ms: 18240\n- text: Check it, just how deep can shit get\n  start_ms: 18240\n  end_ms: 20670\n- text: Deep as the abyss and brothers is mad, fish accept it\n  start_ms: 20670\n  end_ms: 23610\n- text: In your Cross Colour clothes, you've crossed over\n  start_ms: 23610\n  end_ms: 25960\n- text: Then got Totally Krossed Out and Kris Krossed\n  start_ms: 25960\n  end_ms: 28390\n- text: Who the boss? Niggas get tossed to the side\n  start_ms: 28390\n  end_ms: 30660\n- text: And I'm the dark side of the Force\n  start_ms: 30660\n  end_ms: 32450\n- text: Of course it's the Method, Man from the Wu-Tang Clan\n  start_ms: 32450\n  end_ms: 35240\n- text: I be hectic, and comin' for the head piece, protect it\n  start_ms: 35240\n  end_ms: 37740\n- text: Fuck it, two tears in a bucket\n  start_ms: 37740\n  end_ms: 39410\n- text: Niggas want the ruckus\n  start_ms: 39410\n  end_ms: 40680\n- text: Bustin' at me, bruh, now bust it\n  start_ms: 40680\n  end_ms: 42440\n- text: Styles, I gets buckwild\n  start_ms: 42440\n  end_ms: 44090\n- text: Method Man on some shit, pullin' niggas files, I'm sick\n  start_ms: 44090\n  end_ms: 47130\n- text: Insane, crazy, driving Miss Daisy\n  start_ms: 47130\n  end_ms: 49590\n- text: Out her fucking mind, now I got mine, I'm Swayze\n  start_ms: 49590\n  end_ms: 51620\n- text: Is it real, son, is it really real, son?\n  start_ms: 51620\n  end_ms: 53770\n- text: Let me know it's real, son, if it's really real\n  start_ms: 53770\n  end_ms: 56250\n- text: Something I could feel, son, load it up and kill one\n  start_ms: 56250\n  end_ms: 58360\n- text: Want it raw deal, son, if it's really real, yeah, uh\n  start_ms: 58360\n  end_ms: 61530\n- text: When I was a likle stereo (stereo)\n  start_ms: 61530\n  end_ms: 63650\n- text: I listen to some Champion (Champion)\n  start_ms: 63650\n  end_ms: 66040\n- text: I always wondered (wondered)\n  start_ms: 66040\n  end_ms: 68420\n- text: When I will be di number one (Tical)\n  start_ms: 68420\n  end_ms: 70750\n- text: And now yuh listen to di Gorgon (Gorgon)\n  start_ms: 70750\n  end_ms: 73200\n- text: And a Gorgon sound a Rein\n  start_ms: 73200\n  end_ms: 75600\n- text: An' any jump and come tes' mi (test me)\n  start_ms: 75600\n  end_ms: 77820\n- text: Mi a-go lick out dem brain (it's like that)\n  start_ms: 77820\n  end_ms: 80020\n- text: Brothers wanna hang with the Meth, bring the rope\n  start_ms: 80020\n  end_ms: 82440\n- text: The only way you'll hang is by the neck\n  start_ms: 82440\n  end_ms: 84190\n- text: Nigga, bolt off the set, comin' to your projects\n  start_ms: 84190\n  end_ms: 86790\n- text: Take it as a threat, better yet it's a promise\n  start_ms: 86790\n  end_ms: 89080\n- text: Comin' from a vet on some old Vietnam shit\n  start_ms: 89080\n  end_ms: 91460\n- text: Nigga, you can bet your bottom dollar, hey, I bomb shit\n  start_ms: 91460\n  end_ms: 93700\n- text: And it's gonna get even worse, word to God\n  start_ms: 93700\n  end_ms: 95930\n- text: It's the Wu comin' through, stickin' niggas for they garments\n  start_ms: 95930\n  end_ms: 98440\n- text: Movin' on your left, southpaw, Mr. Meth\n  start_ms: 98440\n  end_ms: 100760\n- text: Came to represent and carve my name in your chest\n  start_ms: 100760\n  end_ms: 103100\n- text: You can come test, realize you're no contest\n  start_ms: 103100\n  end_ms: 105680\n- text: Son, I'm the gun that won that old Wild West\n  start_ms: 105680\n  end_ms: 107810\n- text: Quick on the draw with my hands on the four-\n  start_ms: 107810\n  end_ms: 110190\n- text: Nine-three-eleven with the rugged rhymes galore\n  start_ms: 110190\n  end_ms: 112560\n- text: Check it, 'cause I think not when this hip-hops like proper\n  start_ms: 112560\n  end_ms: 115450\n- text: Rhymes be the proof while I'm drinkin' 90 proof\n  start_ms: 115450\n  end_ms: 117700\n- text: Huh, vodka, no OJ, no straw\n  start_ms: 117700\n  end_ms: 120290\n- text: When you give it to me, ayy, give it to me raw\n  start_ms: 120290\n  end_ms: 122530\n- text: I've learned that when you drink Absolut straight it burns\n  start_ms: 122530\n  end_ms: 125410\n- text: Enough to give my chest hairs a perm\n  start_ms: 125410\n  end_ms: 127360\n- text: I don't need a chemical blow to pull a ho\n  start_ms: 127360\n  end_ms: 129700\n- text: All I need is Chemical Bank to pay the roll\n  start_ms: 129700\n  end_ms: 132470\n- text: What, basically that, Meth-Tical, '94 style\n  start_ms: 132470\n  end_ms: 136500\n- text: (Northern spicy brown mustard hoes, word up, we be hazardous)\n  start_ms: 136500\n  end_ms: 138750\n- text: We have to stick you\n  start_ms: 138750\n  end_ms: 141210\n- text: Is it real, son, is it really real, son? (Motherfucker, I'll fuckin')\n  start_ms: 141210\n  end_ms: 143420\n- text: Let me know it's real, son, if it's really real\n  start_ms: 143420\n  end_ms: 145590\n- text: Something I could feel, son, load it up and kill one\n  start_ms: 145590\n  end_ms: 147920\n- text: Want it raw deal, son, if it's really real\n  start_ms: 147920\n  end_ms: 150520\n- text: I'll fuckin', I'll fuckin' cut your kneecaps off\n  start_ms: 150520\n  end_ms: 154910\n- text: And make you kneel at some staircase, piss\n  start_ms: 154910\n  end_ms: 158430\n- text: I'll fuckin' cut your eyelids off and feed you nothin' but sleepin' pills\n  start_ms: 158430\n  end_ms: 174350\n- text: Get yours, motherfucker\n  start_ms: 174350\n  end_ms: 181110\n- text: So fuck the ho, fuck the ho\n  start_ms: 181110\n  end_ms: 185030\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 185030\nplain: |-\n  Basically\n  Can't fuck with me\n\n  I came to bring the pain hardcore from the brain\n  Let's go inside my astral plane\n  Find out my mental, based on instrumental\n  Records, hey, so I can write monumental\n  Methods, I'm not the king\n  But niggas is decaf, I stick 'em for the cream\n  Check it, just how deep can shit get\n  Deep as the abyss and brothers is mad, fish accept it\n\n  In your Cross Colour clothes, you've crossed over\n  Then got Totally Krossed Out and Kris Krossed\n  Who the boss? Niggas get tossed to the side\n  And I'm the dark side of the Force\n  Of course it's the Method, Man from the Wu-Tang Clan\n  I be hectic, and comin' for the head piece, protect it\n  Fuck it, two tears in a bucket\n  Niggas want the ruckus\n  Bustin' at me, bruh, now bust it\n\n  Styles, I gets buckwild\n  Method Man on some shit, pullin' niggas files, I'm sick\n  Insane, crazy, driving Miss Daisy\n  Out her fucking mind, now I got mine, I'm Swayze\n\n  Is it real, son, is it really real, son?\n  Let me know it's real, son, if it's really real\n  Something I could feel, son, load it up and kill one\n  Want it raw deal, son, if it's really real, yeah, uh\n\n  When I was a likle stereo (stereo)\n  I listen to some Champion (Champion)\n  I always wondered (wondered)\n  When I will be di number one (Tical)\n  And now yuh listen to di Gorgon (Gorgon)\n  And a Gorgon sound a Rein\n  An' any jump and come tes' mi (test me)\n  Mi a-go lick out dem brain (it's like that)\n\n  Brothers wanna hang with the Meth, bring the rope\n  The only way you'll hang is by the neck\n  Nigga, bolt off the set, comin' to your projects\n  Take it as a threat, better yet it's a promise\n  Comin' from a vet on some old Vietnam shit\n  Nigga, you can bet your bottom dollar, hey, I bomb shit\n  And it's gonna get even worse, word to God\n  It's the Wu comin' through, stickin' niggas for they garments\n\n  Movin' on your left, southpaw, Mr. Meth\n  Came to represent and carve my name in your chest\n  You can come test, realize you're no contest\n  Son, I'm the gun that won that old Wild West\n  Quick on the draw with my hands on the four-\n  Nine-three-eleven with the rugged rhymes galore\n  Check it, 'cause I think not when this hip-hops like proper\n  Rhymes be the proof while I'm drinkin' 90 proof\n\n  Huh, vodka, no OJ, no straw\n  When you give it to me, ayy, give it to me raw\n  I've learned that when you drink Absolut straight it burns\n  Enough to give my chest hairs a perm\n  I don't need a chemical blow to pull a ho\n  All I need is Chemical Bank to pay the roll\n\n  What, basically that, Meth-Tical, '94 style\n  (Northern spicy brown mustard hoes, word up, we be hazardous)\n  We have to stick you\n\n  Is it real, son, is it really real, son? (Motherfucker, I'll fuckin')\n  Let me know it's real, son, if it's really real\n  Something I could feel, son, load it up and kill one\n  Want it raw deal, son, if it's really real\n\n  I'll fuckin', I'll fuckin' cut your kneecaps off\n  And make you kneel at some staircase, piss\n  I'll fuckin' cut your eyelids off and feed you nothin' but sleepin' pills\n  Get yours, motherfucker\n  So fuck the ho, fuck the ho\n"},{"id":13407436,"name":"Bring The Pain (Radio Edit)","trackName":"Bring The Pain (Radio Edit)","artistName":"Method Man","albumName":"Bring The Pain","duration":189.857959,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Basically\nCan't fuck with me\n\nI came to bring the pain hardcore from the brain\nLet's go inside my astral plane\nFind out my mental, based on instrumental\nRecords, hey, so I can write monumental\nMethods, I'm not the king\nBut niggas is decaf, I stick 'em for the cream\nCheck it, just how deep can shit get\nDeep as the abyss and brothers is mad, fish accept it\n\nIn your Cross Colour clothes, you've crossed over\nThen got Totally Krossed Out and Kris Krossed\nWho the boss? Niggas get tossed to the side\nAnd I'm the dark side of the Force\nOf course it's the Method, Man from the Wu-Tang Clan\nI be hectic, and comin' for the head piece, protect it\nFuck it, two tears in a bucket\nNiggas want the ruckus\nBustin' at me, bruh, now bust it\n\nStyles, I gets buckwild\nMethod Man on some shit, pullin' niggas files, I'm sick\nInsane, crazy, driving Miss Daisy\nOut her fucking mind, now I got mine, I'm Swayze\n\nIs it real, son, is it really real, son?\nLet me know it's real, son, if it's really real\nSomething I could feel, son, load it up and kill one\nWant it raw deal, son, if it's really real, yeah, uh\n\nWhen I was a likle stereo (stereo)\nI listen to some Champion (Champion)\nI always wondered (wondered)\nWhen I will be di number one (Tical)\nAnd now yuh listen to di Gorgon (Gorgon)\nAnd a Gorgon sound a Rein\nAn' any jump and come tes' mi (test me)\nMi a-go lick out dem brain (it's like that)\n\nBrothers wanna hang with the Meth, bring the rope\nThe only way you'll hang is by the neck\nNigga, bolt off the set, comin' to your projects\nTake it as a threat, better yet it's a promise\nComin' from a vet on some old Vietnam shit\nNigga, you can bet your bottom dollar, hey, I bomb shit\nAnd it's gonna get even worse, word to God\nIt's the Wu comin' through, stickin' niggas for they garments\n\nMovin' on your left, southpaw, Mr. Meth\nCame to represent and carve my name in your chest\nYou can come test, realize you're no contest\nSon, I'm the gun that won that old Wild West\nQuick on the draw with my hands on the four-\nNine-three-eleven with the rugged rhymes galore\nCheck it, 'cause I think not when this hip-hops like proper\nRhymes be the proof while I'm drinkin' 90 proof\n\nHuh, vodka, no OJ, no straw\nWhen you give it to me, ayy, give it to me raw\nI've learned that when you drink Absolut straight it burns\nEnough to give my chest hairs a perm\nI don't need a chemical blow to pull a ho\nAll I need is Chemical Bank to pay the roll\n\nWhat, basically that, Meth-Tical, '94 style\n(Northern spicy brown mustard hoes, word up, we be hazardous)\nWe have to stick you\n\nIs it real, son, is it really real, son? (Motherfucker, I'll fuckin')\nLet me know it's real, son, if it's really real\nSomething I could feel, son, load it up and kill one\nWant it raw deal, son, if it's really real\n\nI'll fuckin', I'll fuckin' cut your kneecaps off\nAnd make you kneel at some staircase, piss\nI'll fuckin' cut your eyelids off and feed you nothin' but sleepin' pills\nGet yours, motherfucker\nSo fuck the ho, fuck the ho","syncedLyrics":"[00:00.20] Basically\n[00:02.67] Can't fuck with me\n[00:04.69] I came to bring the pain hardcore from the brain\n[00:07.78] Let's go inside my astral plane\n[00:09.53] Find out my mental, based on instrumental\n[00:11.73] Records, hey, so I can write monumental\n[00:14.18] Methods, I'm not the king\n[00:15.87] But niggas is decaf, I stick 'em for the cream\n[00:18.24] Check it, just how deep can shit get\n[00:20.67] Deep as the abyss and brothers is mad, fish accept it\n[00:23.61] In your Cross Colour clothes, you've crossed over\n[00:25.96] Then got Totally Krossed Out and Kris Krossed\n[00:28.39] Who the boss? Niggas get tossed to the side\n[00:30.66] And I'm the dark side of the Force\n[00:32.45] Of course it's the Method, Man from the Wu-Tang Clan\n[00:35.24] I be hectic, and comin' for the head piece, protect it\n[00:37.74] Fuck it, two tears in a bucket\n[00:39.41] Niggas want the ruckus\n[00:40.68] Bustin' at me, bruh, now bust it\n[00:42.44] Styles, I gets buckwild\n[00:44.09] Method Man on some shit, pullin' niggas files, I'm sick\n[00:47.13] Insane, crazy, driving Miss Daisy\n[00:49.59] Out her fucking mind, now I got mine, I'm Swayze\n[00:51.62] Is it real, son, is it really real, son?\n[00:53.77] Let me know it's real, son, if it's really real\n[00:56.25] Something I could feel, son, load it up and kill one\n[00:58.36] Want it raw deal, son, if it's really real, yeah, uh\n[01:01.53] When I was a likle stereo (stereo)\n[01:03.65] I listen to some Champion (Champion)\n[01:06.04] I always wondered (wondered)\n[01:08.42] When I will be di number one (Tical)\n[01:10.75] And now yuh listen to di Gorgon (Gorgon)\n[01:13.20] And a Gorgon sound a Rein\n[01:15.60] An' any jump and come tes' mi (test me)\n[01:17.82] Mi a-go lick out dem brain (it's like that)\n[01:20.02] Brothers wanna hang with the Meth, bring the rope\n[01:22.44] The only way you'll hang is by the neck\n[01:24.19] Nigga, bolt off the set, comin' to your projects\n[01:26.79] Take it as a threat, better yet it's a promise\n[01:29.08] Comin' from a vet on some old Vietnam shit\n[01:31.46] Nigga, you can bet your bottom dollar, hey, I bomb shit\n[01:33.70] And it's gonna get even worse, word to God\n[01:35.93] It's the Wu comin' through, stickin' niggas for they garments\n[01:38.44] Movin' on your left, southpaw, Mr. Meth\n[01:40.76] Came to represent and carve my name in your chest\n[01:43.10] You can come test, realize you're no contest\n[01:45.68] Son, I'm the gun that won that old Wild West\n[01:47.81] Quick on the draw with my hands on the four-\n[01:50.19] Nine-three-eleven with the rugged rhymes galore\n[01:52.56] Check it, 'cause I think not when this hip-hops like proper\n[01:55.45] Rhymes be the proof while I'm drinkin' 90 proof\n[01:57.70] Huh, vodka, no OJ, no straw\n[02:00.29] When you give it to me, ayy, give it to me raw\n[02:02.53] I've learned that when you drink Absolut straight it burns\n[02:05.41] Enough to give my chest hairs a perm\n[02:07.36] I don't need a chemical blow to pull a ho\n[02:09.70] All I need is Chemical Bank to pay the roll\n[02:12.47] What, basically that, Meth-Tical, '94 style\n[02:16.50] (Northern spicy brown mustard hoes, word up, we be hazardous)\n[02:18.75] We have to stick you\n[02:21.21] Is it real, son, is it really real, son? (Motherfucker, I'll fuckin')\n[02:23.42] Let me know it's real, son, if it's really real\n[02:25.59] Something I could feel, son, load it up and kill one\n[02:27.92] Want it raw deal, son, if it's really real\n[02:30.52] I'll fuckin', I'll fuckin' cut your kneecaps off\n[02:34.91] And make you kneel at some staircase, piss\n[02:38.43] I'll fuckin' cut your eyelids off and feed you nothin' but sleepin' pills\n[02:54.35] Get yours, motherfucker\n[03:01.11] So fuck the ho, fuck the ho\n[03:05.03] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Bring The Pain (Radio Edit)\n  artist: Method Man\n  album: Bring The Pain\n  duration_ms: 189858\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Basically\n  start_ms: 200\n  end_ms: 2670\n- text: Can't fuck with me\n  start_ms: 2670\n  end_ms: 4690\n- text: I came to bring the pain hardcore from the brain\n  start_ms: 4690\n  end_ms: 7780\n- text: Let's go inside my astral plane\n  start_ms: 7780\n  end_ms: 9530\n- text: Find out my mental, based on instrumental\n  start_ms: 9530\n  end_ms: 11730\n- text: Records, hey, so I can write monumental\n  start_ms: 11730\n  end_ms: 14180\n- text: Methods, I'm not the king\n  start_ms: 14180\n  end_ms: 15870\n- text: But niggas is decaf, I stick 'em for the cream\n  start_ms: 15870\n  end_ms: 18240\n- text: Check it, just how deep can shit get\n  start_ms: 18240\n  end_ms: 20670\n- text: Deep as the abyss and brothers is mad, fish accept it\n  start_ms: 20670\n  end_ms: 23610\n- text: In your Cross Colour clothes, you've crossed over\n  start_ms: 23610\n  end_ms: 25960\n- text: Then got Totally Krossed Out and Kris Krossed\n  start_ms: 25960\n  end_ms: 28390\n- text: Who the boss? Niggas get tossed to the side\n  start_ms: 28390\n  end_ms: 30660\n- text: And I'm the dark side of the Force\n  start_ms: 30660\n  end_ms: 32450\n- text: Of course it's the Method, Man from the Wu-Tang Clan\n  start_ms: 32450\n  end_ms: 35240\n- text: I be hectic, and comin' for the head piece, protect it\n  start_ms: 35240\n  end_ms: 37740\n- text: Fuck it, two tears in a bucket\n  start_ms: 37740\n  end_ms: 39410\n- text: Niggas want the ruckus\n  start_ms: 39410\n  end_ms: 40680\n- text: Bustin' at me, bruh, now bust it\n  start_ms: 40680\n  end_ms: 42440\n- text: Styles, I gets buckwild\n  start_ms: 42440\n  end_ms: 44090\n- text: Method Man on some shit, pullin' niggas files, I'm sick\n  start_ms: 44090\n  end_ms: 47130\n- text: Insane, crazy, driving Miss Daisy\n  start_ms: 47130\n  end_ms: 49590\n- text: Out her fucking mind, now I got mine, I'm Swayze\n  start_ms: 49590\n  end_ms: 51620\n- text: Is it real, son, is it really real, son?\n  start_ms: 51620\n  end_ms: 53770\n- text: Let me know it's real, son, if it's really real\n  start_ms: 53770\n  end_ms: 56250\n- text: Something I could feel, son, load it up and kill one\n  start_ms: 56250\n  end_ms: 58360\n- text: Want it raw deal, son, if it's really real, yeah, uh\n  start_ms: 58360\n  end_ms: 61530\n- text: When I was a likle stereo (stereo)\n  start_ms: 61530\n  end_ms: 63650\n- text: I listen to some Champion (Champion)\n  start_ms: 63650\n  end_ms: 66040\n- text: I always wondered (wondered)\n  start_ms: 66040\n  end_ms: 68420\n- text: When I will be di number one (Tical)\n  start_ms: 68420\n  end_ms: 70750\n- text: And now yuh listen to di Gorgon (Gorgon)\n  start_ms: 70750\n  end_ms: 73200\n- text: And a Gorgon sound a Rein\n  start_ms: 73200\n  end_ms: 75600\n- text: An' any jump and come tes' mi (test me)\n  start_ms: 75600\n  end_ms: 77820\n- text: Mi a-go lick out dem brain (it's like that)\n  start_ms: 77820\n  end_ms: 80020\n- text: Brothers wanna hang with the Meth, bring the rope\n  start_ms: 80020\n  end_ms: 82440\n- text: The only way you'll hang is by the neck\n  start_ms: 82440\n  end_ms: 84190\n- text: Nigga, bolt off the set, comin' to your projects\n  start_ms: 84190\n  end_ms: 86790\n- text: Take it as a threat, better yet it's a promise\n  start_ms: 86790\n  end_ms: 89080\n- text: Comin' from a vet on some old Vietnam shit\n  start_ms: 89080\n  end_ms: 91460\n- text: Nigga, you can bet your bottom dollar, hey, I bomb shit\n  start_ms: 91460\n  end_ms: 93700\n- text: And it's gonna get even worse, word to God\n  start_ms: 93700\n  end_ms: 95930\n- text: It's the Wu comin' through, stickin' niggas for they garments\n  start_ms: 95930\n  end_ms: 98440\n- text: Movin' on your left, southpaw, Mr. Meth\n  start_ms: 98440\n  end_ms: 100760\n- text: Came to represent and carve my name in your chest\n  start_ms: 100760\n  end_ms: 103100\n- text: You can come test, realize you're no contest\n  start_ms: 103100\n  end_ms: 105680\n- text: Son, I'm the gun that won that old Wild West\n  start_ms: 105680\n  end_ms: 107810\n- text: Quick on the draw with my hands on the four-\n  start_ms: 107810\n  end_ms: 110190\n- text: Nine-three-eleven with the rugged rhymes galore\n  start_ms: 110190\n  end_ms: 112560\n- text: Check it, 'cause I think not when this hip-hops like proper\n  start_ms: 112560\n  end_ms: 115450\n- text: Rhymes be the proof while I'm drinkin' 90 proof\n  start_ms: 115450\n  end_ms: 117700\n- text: Huh, vodka, no OJ, no straw\n  start_ms: 117700\n  end_ms: 120290\n- text: When you give it to me, ayy, give it to me raw\n  start_ms: 120290\n  end_ms: 122530\n- text: I've learned that when you drink Absolut straight it burns\n  start_ms: 122530\n  end_ms: 125410\n- text: Enough to give my chest hairs a perm\n  start_ms: 125410\n  end_ms: 127360\n- text: I don't need a chemical blow to pull a ho\n  start_ms: 127360\n  end_ms: 129700\n- text: All I need is Chemical Bank to pay the roll\n  start_ms: 129700\n  end_ms: 132470\n- text: What, basically that, Meth-Tical, '94 style\n  start_ms: 132470\n  end_ms: 136500\n- text: (Northern spicy brown mustard hoes, word up, we be hazardous)\n  start_ms: 136500\n  end_ms: 138750\n- text: We have to stick you\n  start_ms: 138750\n  end_ms: 141210\n- text: Is it real, son, is it really real, son? (Motherfucker, I'll fuckin')\n  start_ms: 141210\n  end_ms: 143420\n- text: Let me know it's real, son, if it's really real\n  start_ms: 143420\n  end_ms: 145590\n- text: Something I could feel, son, load it up and kill one\n  start_ms: 145590\n  end_ms: 147920\n- text: Want it raw deal, son, if it's really real\n  start_ms: 147920\n  end_ms: 150520\n- text: I'll fuckin', I'll fuckin' cut your kneecaps off\n  start_ms: 150520\n  end_ms: 154910\n- text: And make you kneel at some staircase, piss\n  start_ms: 154910\n  end_ms: 158430\n- text: I'll fuckin' cut your eyelids off and feed you nothin' but sleepin' pills\n  start_ms: 158430\n  end_ms: 174350\n- text: Get yours, motherfucker\n  start_ms: 174350\n  end_ms: 181110\n- text: So fuck the ho, fuck the ho\n  start_ms: 181110\n  end_ms: 185030\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 185030\nplain: |-\n  Basically\n  Can't fuck with me\n\n  I came to bring the pain hardcore from the brain\n  Let's go inside my astral plane\n  Find out my mental, based on instrumental\n  Records, hey, so I can write monumental\n  Methods, I'm not the king\n  But niggas is decaf, I stick 'em for the cream\n  Check it, just how deep can shit get\n  Deep as the abyss and brothers is mad, fish accept it\n\n  In your Cross Colour clothes, you've crossed over\n  Then got Totally Krossed Out and Kris Krossed\n  Who the boss? Niggas get tossed to the side\n  And I'm the dark side of the Force\n  Of course it's the Method, Man from the Wu-Tang Clan\n  I be hectic, and comin' for the head piece, protect it\n  Fuck it, two tears in a bucket\n  Niggas want the ruckus\n  Bustin' at me, bruh, now bust it\n\n  Styles, I gets buckwild\n  Method Man on some shit, pullin' niggas files, I'm sick\n  Insane, crazy, driving Miss Daisy\n  Out her fucking mind, now I got mine, I'm Swayze\n\n  Is it real, son, is it really real, son?\n  Let me know it's real, son, if it's really real\n  Something I could feel, son, load it up and kill one\n  Want it raw deal, son, if it's really real, yeah, uh\n\n  When I was a likle stereo (stereo)\n  I listen to some Champion (Champion)\n  I always wondered (wondered)\n  When I will be di number one (Tical)\n  And now yuh listen to di Gorgon (Gorgon)\n  And a Gorgon sound a Rein\n  An' any jump and come tes' mi (test me)\n  Mi a-go lick out dem brain (it's like that)\n\n  Brothers wanna hang with the Meth, bring the rope\n  The only way you'll hang is by the neck\n  Nigga, bolt off the set, comin' to your projects\n  Take it as a threat, better yet it's a promise\n  Comin' from a vet on some old Vietnam shit\n  Nigga, you can bet your bottom dollar, hey, I bomb shit\n  And it's gonna get even worse, word to God\n  It's the Wu comin' through, stickin' niggas for they garments\n\n  Movin' on your left, southpaw, Mr. Meth\n  Came to represent and carve my name in your chest\n  You can come test, realize you're no contest\n  Son, I'm the gun that won that old Wild West\n  Quick on the draw with my hands on the four-\n  Nine-three-eleven with the rugged rhymes galore\n  Check it, 'cause I think not when this hip-hops like proper\n  Rhymes be the proof while I'm drinkin' 90 proof\n\n  Huh, vodka, no OJ, no straw\n  When you give it to me, ayy, give it to me raw\n  I've learned that when you drink Absolut straight it burns\n  Enough to give my chest hairs a perm\n  I don't need a chemical blow to pull a ho\n  All I need is Chemical Bank to pay the roll\n\n  What, basically that, Meth-Tical, '94 style\n  (Northern spicy brown mustard hoes, word up, we be hazardous)\n  We have to stick you\n\n  Is it real, son, is it really real, son? (Motherfucker, I'll fuckin')\n  Let me know it's real, son, if it's really real\n  Something I could feel, son, load it up and kill one\n  Want it raw deal, son, if it's really real\n\n  I'll fuckin', I'll fuckin' cut your kneecaps off\n  And make you kneel at some staircase, piss\n  I'll fuckin' cut your eyelids off and feed you nothin' but sleepin' pills\n  Get yours, motherfucker\n  So fuck the ho, fuck the ho\n"},{"id":21791851,"name":"Bring The Pain (LP Version)","trackName":"Bring The Pain (LP Version)","artistName":"Method Man","albumName":"Bring The Pain","duration":186.705125,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Basically\nCan't fuck with me\n\nI came to bring the pain hardcore from the brain\nLet's go inside my astral plane\nFind out my mental, based on instrumental\nRecords, hey, so I can write monumental\nMethods, I'm not the king\nBut niggas is decaf, I stick 'em for the cream\nCheck it, just how deep can shit get\nDeep as the abyss and brothers is mad, fish accept it\n\nIn your Cross Colour clothes, you've crossed over\nThen got Totally Krossed Out and Kris Krossed\nWho the boss? Niggas get tossed to the side\nAnd I'm the dark side of the Force\nOf course it's the Method, Man from the Wu-Tang Clan\nI be hectic, and comin' for the head piece, protect it\nFuck it, two tears in a bucket\nNiggas want the ruckus\nBustin' at me, bruh, now bust it\n\nStyles, I gets buckwild\nMethod Man on some shit, pullin' niggas files, I'm sick\nInsane, crazy, driving Miss Daisy\nOut her fucking mind, now I got mine, I'm Swayze\n\nIs it real, son, is it really real, son?\nLet me know it's real, son, if it's really real\nSomething I could feel, son, load it up and kill one\nWant it raw deal, son, if it's really real, yeah, uh\n\nWhen I was a likle stereo (stereo)\nI listen to some Champion (Champion)\nI always wondered (wondered)\nWhen I will be di number one (Tical)\nAnd now yuh listen to di Gorgon (Gorgon)\nAnd a Gorgon sound a Rein\nAn' any jump and come tes' mi (test me)\nMi a-go lick out dem brain (it's like that)\n\nBrothers wanna hang with the Meth, bring the rope\nThe only way you'll hang is by the neck\nNigga, bolt off the set, comin' to your projects\nTake it as a threat, better yet it's a promise\nComin' from a vet on some old Vietnam shit\nNigga, you can bet your bottom dollar, hey, I bomb shit\nAnd it's gonna get even worse, word to God\nIt's the Wu comin' through, stickin' niggas for they garments\n\nMovin' on your left, southpaw, Mr. Meth\nCame to represent and carve my name in your chest\nYou can come test, realize you're no contest\nSon, I'm the gun that won that old Wild West\nQuick on the draw with my hands on the four-\nNine-three-eleven with the rugged rhymes galore\nCheck it, 'cause I think not when this hip-hops like proper\nRhymes be the proof while I'm drinkin' 90 proof\n\nHuh, vodka, no OJ, no straw\nWhen you give it to me, ayy, give it to me raw\nI've learned that when you drink Absolut straight it burns\nEnough to give my chest hairs a perm\nI don't need a chemical blow to pull a ho\nAll I need is Chemical Bank to pay the roll\n\nWhat, basically that, Meth-Tical, '94 style\n(Northern spicy brown mustard hoes, word up, we be hazardous)\nWe have to stick you\n\nIs it real, son, is it really real, son? (Motherfucker, I'll fuckin')\nLet me know it's real, son, if it's really real\nSomething I could feel, son, load it up and kill one\nWant it raw deal, son, if it's really real\n\nI'll fuckin', I'll fuckin' cut your kneecaps off\nAnd make you kneel at some staircase, piss\nI'll fuckin' cut your eyelids off and feed you nothin' but sleepin' pills\nGet yours, motherfucker\nSo fuck the ho, fuck the ho","syncedLyrics":"[00:00.20] Basically\n[00:02.67] Can't fuck with me\n[00:04.69] I came to bring the pain hardcore from the brain\n[00:07.78] Let's go inside my astral plane\n[00:09.53] Find out my mental, based on instrumental\n[00:11.73] Records, hey, so I can write monumental\n[00:14.18] Methods, I'm not the king\n[00:15.87] But niggas is decaf, I stick 'em for the cream\n[00:18.24] Check it, just how deep can shit get\n[00:20.67] Deep as the abyss and brothers is mad, fish accept it\n[00:23.61] In your Cross Colour clothes, you've crossed over\n[00:25.96] Then got Totally Krossed Out and Kris Krossed\n[00:28.39] Who the boss? Niggas get tossed to the side\n[00:30.66] And I'm the dark side of the Force\n[00:32.45] Of course it's the Method, Man from the Wu-Tang Clan\n[00:35.24] I be hectic, and comin' for the head piece, protect it\n[00:37.74] Fuck it, two tears in a bucket\n[00:39.41] Niggas want the ruckus\n[00:40.68] Bustin' at me, bruh, now bust it\n[00:42.44] Styles, I gets buckwild\n[00:44.09] Method Man on some shit, pullin' niggas files, I'm sick\n[00:47.13] Insane, crazy, driving Miss Daisy\n[00:49.59] Out her fucking mind, now I got mine, I'm Swayze\n[00:51.62] Is it real, son, is it really real, son?\n[00:53.77] Let me know it's real, son, if it's really real\n[00:56.25] Something I could feel, son, load it up and kill one\n[00:58.36] Want it raw deal, son, if it's really real, yeah, uh\n[01:01.53] When I was a likle stereo (stereo)\n[01:03.65] I listen to some Champion (Champion)\n[01:06.04] I always wondered (wondered)\n[01:08.42] When I will be di number one (Tical)\n[01:10.75] And now yuh listen to di Gorgon (Gorgon)\n[01:13.20] And a Gorgon sound a Rein\n[01:15.60] An' any jump and come tes' mi (test me)\n[01:17.82] Mi a-go lick out dem brain (it's like that)\n[01:20.02] Brothers wanna hang with the Meth, bring the rope\n[01:22.44] The only way you'll hang is by the neck\n[01:24.19] Nigga, bolt off the set, comin' to your projects\n[01:26.79] Take it as a threat, better yet it's a promise\n[01:29.08] Comin' from a vet on some old Vietnam shit\n[01:31.46] Nigga, you can bet your bottom dollar, hey, I bomb shit\n[01:33.70] And it's gonna get even worse, word to God\n[01:35.93] It's the Wu comin' through, stickin' niggas for they garments\n[01:38.44] Movin' on your left, southpaw, Mr. Meth\n[01:40.76] Came to represent and carve my name in your chest\n[01:43.10] You can come test, realize you're no contest\n[01:45.68] Son, I'm the gun that won that old Wild West\n[01:47.81] Quick on the draw with my hands on the four-\n[01:50.19] Nine-three-eleven with the rugged rhymes galore\n[01:52.56] Check it, 'cause I think not when this hip-hops like proper\n[01:55.45] Rhymes be the proof while I'm drinkin' 90 proof\n[01:57.70] Huh, vodka, no OJ, no straw\n[02:00.29] When you give it to me, ayy, give it to me raw\n[02:02.53] I've learned that when you drink Absolut straight it burns\n[02:05.41] Enough to give my chest hairs a perm\n[02:07.36] I don't need a chemical blow to pull a ho\n[02:09.70] All I need is Chemical Bank to pay the roll\n[02:12.47] What, basically that, Meth-Tical, '94 style\n[02:16.50] (Northern spicy brown mustard hoes, word up, we be hazardous)\n[02:18.75] We have to stick you\n[02:21.21] Is it real, son, is it really real, son? (Motherfucker, I'll fuckin')\n[02:23.42] Let me know it's real, son, if it's really real\n[02:25.59] Something I could feel, son, load it up and kill one\n[02:27.92] Want it raw deal, son, if it's really real\n[02:30.52] I'll fuckin', I'll fuckin' cut your kneecaps off\n[02:34.91] And make you kneel at some staircase, piss\n[02:38.43] I'll fuckin' cut your eyelids off and feed you nothin' but sleepin' pills\n[02:54.35] Get yours, motherfucker\n[03:01.11] So fuck the ho, fuck the ho\n[03:05.03] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Bring The Pain (LP Version)\n  artist: Method Man\n  album: Bring The Pain\n  duration_ms: 186705\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Basically\n  start_ms: 200\n  end_ms: 2670\n- text: Can't fuck with me\n  start_ms: 2670\n  end_ms: 4690\n- text: I came to bring the pain hardcore from the brain\n  start_ms: 4690\n  end_ms: 7780\n- text: Let's go inside my astral plane\n  start_ms: 7780\n  end_ms: 9530\n- text: Find out my mental, based on instrumental\n  start_ms: 9530\n  end_ms: 11730\n- text: Records, hey, so I can write monumental\n  start_ms: 11730\n  end_ms: 14180\n- text: Methods, I'm not the king\n  start_ms: 14180\n  end_ms: 15870\n- text: But niggas is decaf, I stick 'em for the cream\n  start_ms: 15870\n  end_ms: 18240\n- text: Check it, just how deep can shit get\n  start_ms: 18240\n  end_ms: 20670\n- text: Deep as the abyss and brothers is mad, fish accept it\n  start_ms: 20670\n  end_ms: 23610\n- text: In your Cross Colour clothes, you've crossed over\n  start_ms: 23610\n  end_ms: 25960\n- text: Then got Totally Krossed Out and Kris Krossed\n  start_ms: 25960\n  end_ms: 28390\n- text: Who the boss? Niggas get tossed to the side\n  start_ms: 28390\n  end_ms: 30660\n- text: And I'm the dark side of the Force\n  start_ms: 30660\n  end_ms: 32450\n- text: Of course it's the Method, Man from the Wu-Tang Clan\n  start_ms: 32450\n  end_ms: 35240\n- text: I be hectic, and comin' for the head piece, protect it\n  start_ms: 35240\n  end_ms: 37740\n- text: Fuck it, two tears in a bucket\n  start_ms: 37740\n  end_ms: 39410\n- text: Niggas want the ruckus\n  start_ms: 39410\n  end_ms: 40680\n- text: Bustin' at me, bruh, now bust it\n  start_ms: 40680\n  end_ms: 42440\n- text: Styles, I gets buckwild\n  start_ms: 42440\n  end_ms: 44090\n- text: Method Man on some shit, pullin' niggas files, I'm sick\n  start_ms: 44090\n  end_ms: 47130\n- text: Insane, crazy, driving Miss Daisy\n  start_ms: 47130\n  end_ms: 49590\n- text: Out her fucking mind, now I got mine, I'm Swayze\n  start_ms: 49590\n  end_ms: 51620\n- text: Is it real, son, is it really real, son?\n  start_ms: 51620\n  end_ms: 53770\n- text: Let me know it's real, son, if it's really real\n  start_ms: 53770\n  end_ms: 56250\n- text: Something I could feel, son, load it up and kill one\n  start_ms: 56250\n  end_ms: 58360\n- text: Want it raw deal, son, if it's really real, yeah, uh\n  start_ms: 58360\n  end_ms: 61530\n- text: When I was a likle stereo (stereo)\n  start_ms: 61530\n  end_ms: 63650\n- text: I listen to some Champion (Champion)\n  start_ms: 63650\n  end_ms: 66040\n- text: I always wondered (wondered)\n  start_ms: 66040\n  end_ms: 68420\n- text: When I will be di number one (Tical)\n  start_ms: 68420\n  end_ms: 70750\n- text: And now yuh listen to di Gorgon (Gorgon)\n  start_ms: 70750\n  end_ms: 73200\n- text: And a Gorgon sound a Rein\n  start_ms: 73200\n  end_ms: 75600\n- text: An' any jump and come tes' mi (test me)\n  start_ms: 75600\n  end_ms: 77820\n- text: Mi a-go lick out dem brain (it's like that)\n  start_ms: 77820\n  end_ms: 80020\n- text: Brothers wanna hang with the Meth, bring the rope\n  start_ms: 80020\n  end_ms: 82440\n- text: The only way you'll hang is by the neck\n  start_ms: 82440\n  end_ms: 84190\n- text: Nigga, bolt off the set, comin' to your projects\n  start_ms: 84190\n  end_ms: 86790\n- text: Take it as a threat, better yet it's a promise\n  start_ms: 86790\n  end_ms: 89080\n- text: Comin' from a vet on some old Vietnam shit\n  start_ms: 89080\n  end_ms: 91460\n- text: Nigga, you can bet your bottom dollar, hey, I bomb shit\n  start_ms: 91460\n  end_ms: 93700\n- text: And it's gonna get even worse, word to God\n  start_ms: 93700\n  end_ms: 95930\n- text: It's the Wu comin' through, stickin' niggas for they garments\n  start_ms: 95930\n  end_ms: 98440\n- text: Movin' on your left, southpaw, Mr. Meth\n  start_ms: 98440\n  end_ms: 100760\n- text: Came to represent and carve my name in your chest\n  start_ms: 100760\n  end_ms: 103100\n- text: You can come test, realize you're no contest\n  start_ms: 103100\n  end_ms: 105680\n- text: Son, I'm the gun that won that old Wild West\n  start_ms: 105680\n  end_ms: 107810\n- text: Quick on the draw with my hands on the four-\n  start_ms: 107810\n  end_ms: 110190\n- text: Nine-three-eleven with the rugged rhymes galore\n  start_ms: 110190\n  end_ms: 112560\n- text: Check it, 'cause I think not when this hip-hops like proper\n  start_ms: 112560\n  end_ms: 115450\n- text: Rhymes be the proof while I'm drinkin' 90 proof\n  start_ms: 115450\n  end_ms: 117700\n- text: Huh, vodka, no OJ, no straw\n  start_ms: 117700\n  end_ms: 120290\n- text: When you give it to me, ayy, give it to me raw\n  start_ms: 120290\n  end_ms: 122530\n- text: I've learned that when you drink Absolut straight it burns\n  start_ms: 122530\n  end_ms: 125410\n- text: Enough to give my chest hairs a perm\n  start_ms: 125410\n  end_ms: 127360\n- text: I don't need a chemical blow to pull a ho\n  start_ms: 127360\n  end_ms: 129700\n- text: All I need is Chemical Bank to pay the roll\n  start_ms: 129700\n  end_ms: 132470\n- text: What, basically that, Meth-Tical, '94 style\n  start_ms: 132470\n  end_ms: 136500\n- text: (Northern spicy brown mustard hoes, word up, we be hazardous)\n  start_ms: 136500\n  end_ms: 138750\n- text: We have to stick you\n  start_ms: 138750\n  end_ms: 141210\n- text: Is it real, son, is it really real, son? (Motherfucker, I'll fuckin')\n  start_ms: 141210\n  end_ms: 143420\n- text: Let me know it's real, son, if it's really real\n  start_ms: 143420\n  end_ms: 145590\n- text: Something I could feel, son, load it up and kill one\n  start_ms: 145590\n  end_ms: 147920\n- text: Want it raw deal, son, if it's really real\n  start_ms: 147920\n  end_ms: 150520\n- text: I'll fuckin', I'll fuckin' cut your kneecaps off\n  start_ms: 150520\n  end_ms: 154910\n- text: And make you kneel at some staircase, piss\n  start_ms: 154910\n  end_ms: 158430\n- text: I'll fuckin' cut your eyelids off and feed you nothin' but sleepin' pills\n  start_ms: 158430\n  end_ms: 174350\n- text: Get yours, motherfucker\n  start_ms: 174350\n  end_ms: 181110\n- text: So fuck the ho, fuck the ho\n  start_ms: 181110\n  end_ms: 185030\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 185030\nplain: |-\n  Basically\n  Can't fuck with me\n\n  I came to bring the pain hardcore from the brain\n  Let's go inside my astral plane\n  Find out my mental, based on instrumental\n  Records, hey, so I can write monumental\n  Methods, I'm not the king\n  But niggas is decaf, I stick 'em for the cream\n  Check it, just how deep can shit get\n  Deep as the abyss and brothers is mad, fish accept it\n\n  In your Cross Colour clothes, you've crossed over\n  Then got Totally Krossed Out and Kris Krossed\n  Who the boss? Niggas get tossed to the side\n  And I'm the dark side of the Force\n  Of course it's the Method, Man from the Wu-Tang Clan\n  I be hectic, and comin' for the head piece, protect it\n  Fuck it, two tears in a bucket\n  Niggas want the ruckus\n  Bustin' at me, bruh, now bust it\n\n  Styles, I gets buckwild\n  Method Man on some shit, pullin' niggas files, I'm sick\n  Insane, crazy, driving Miss Daisy\n  Out her fucking mind, now I got mine, I'm Swayze\n\n  Is it real, son, is it really real, son?\n  Let me know it's real, son, if it's really real\n  Something I could feel, son, load it up and kill one\n  Want it raw deal, son, if it's really real, yeah, uh\n\n  When I was a likle stereo (stereo)\n  I listen to some Champion (Champion)\n  I always wondered (wondered)\n  When I will be di number one (Tical)\n  And now yuh listen to di Gorgon (Gorgon)\n  And a Gorgon sound a Rein\n  An' any jump and come tes' mi (test me)\n  Mi a-go lick out dem brain (it's like that)\n\n  Brothers wanna hang with the Meth, bring the rope\n  The only way you'll hang is by the neck\n  Nigga, bolt off the set, comin' to your projects\n  Take it as a threat, better yet it's a promise\n  Comin' from a vet on some old Vietnam shit\n  Nigga, you can bet your bottom dollar, hey, I bomb shit\n  And it's gonna get even worse, word to God\n  It's the Wu comin' through, stickin' niggas for they garments\n\n  Movin' on your left, southpaw, Mr. Meth\n  Came to represent and carve my name in your chest\n  You can come test, realize you're no contest\n  Son, I'm the gun that won that old Wild West\n  Quick on the draw with my hands on the four-\n  Nine-three-eleven with the rugged rhymes galore\n  Check it, 'cause I think not when this hip-hops like proper\n  Rhymes be the proof while I'm drinkin' 90 proof\n\n  Huh, vodka, no OJ, no straw\n  When you give it to me, ayy, give it to me raw\n  I've learned that when you drink Absolut straight it burns\n  Enough to give my chest hairs a perm\n  I don't need a chemical blow to pull a ho\n  All I need is Chemical Bank to pay the roll\n\n  What, basically that, Meth-Tical, '94 style\n  (Northern spicy brown mustard hoes, word up, we be hazardous)\n  We have to stick you\n\n  Is it real, son, is it really real, son? (Motherfucker, I'll fuckin')\n  Let me know it's real, son, if it's really real\n  Something I could feel, son, load it up and kill one\n  Want it raw deal, son, if it's really real\n\n  I'll fuckin', I'll fuckin' cut your kneecaps off\n  And make you kneel at some staircase, piss\n  I'll fuckin' cut your eyelids off and feed you nothin' but sleepin' pills\n  Get yours, motherfucker\n  So fuck the ho, fuck the ho\n"},{"id":37666027,"name":"Bring the Pain (LP version)","trackName":"Bring the Pain (LP version)","artistName":"Method Man","albumName":"Bring the Pain","duration":193.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Basically\nCan't fuck with me\n\nI came to bring the pain hardcore from the brain\nLet's go inside my astral plane\nFind out my mental, based on instrumental\nRecords, hey, so I can write monumental\nMethods, I'm not the king\nBut niggas is decaf, I stick 'em for the cream\nCheck it, just how deep can shit get\nDeep as the abyss and brothers is mad, fish accept it\n\nIn your Cross Colour clothes, you've crossed over\nThen got Totally Krossed Out and Kris Krossed\nWho the boss? Niggas get tossed to the side\nAnd I'm the dark side of the Force\nOf course it's the Method, Man from the Wu-Tang Clan\nI be hectic, and comin' for the head piece, protect it\nFuck it, two tears in a bucket\nNiggas want the ruckus\nBustin' at me, bruh, now bust it\n\nStyles, I gets buckwild\nMethod Man on some shit, pullin' niggas files, I'm sick\nInsane, crazy, driving Miss Daisy\nOut her fucking mind, now I got mine, I'm Swayze\n\nIs it real, son, is it really real, son?\nLet me know it's real, son, if it's really real\nSomething I could feel, son, load it up and kill one\nWant it raw deal, son, if it's really real, yeah, uh\n\nWhen I was a likle stereo (stereo)\nI listen to some Champion (Champion)\nI always wondered (wondered)\nWhen I will be di number one (Tical)\nAnd now yuh listen to di Gorgon (Gorgon)\nAnd a Gorgon sound a Rein\nAn' any jump and come tes' mi (test me)\nMi a-go lick out dem brain (it's like that)\n\nBrothers wanna hang with the Meth, bring the rope\nThe only way you'll hang is by the neck\nNigga, bolt off the set, comin' to your projects\nTake it as a threat, better yet it's a promise\nComin' from a vet on some old Vietnam shit\nNigga, you can bet your bottom dollar, hey, I bomb shit\nAnd it's gonna get even worse, word to God\nIt's the Wu comin' through, stickin' niggas for they garments\n\nMovin' on your left, southpaw, Mr. Meth\nCame to represent and carve my name in your chest\nYou can come test, realize you're no contest\nSon, I'm the gun that won that old Wild West\nQuick on the draw with my hands on the four-\nNine-three-eleven with the rugged rhymes galore\nCheck it, 'cause I think not when this hip-hops like proper\nRhymes be the proof while I'm drinkin' 90 proof\n\nHuh, vodka, no OJ, no straw\nWhen you give it to me, ayy, give it to me raw\nI've learned that when you drink Absolut straight it burns\nEnough to give my chest hairs a perm\nI don't need a chemical blow to pull a ho\nAll I need is Chemical Bank to pay the roll\n\nWhat, basically that, Meth-Tical, '94 style\n(Northern spicy brown mustard hoes, word up, we be hazardous)\nWe have to stick you\n\nIs it real, son, is it really real, son? (Motherfucker, I'll fuckin')\nLet me know it's real, son, if it's really real\nSomething I could feel, son, load it up and kill one\nWant it raw deal, son, if it's really real\n\nI'll fuckin', I'll fuckin' cut your kneecaps off\nAnd make you kneel at some staircase, piss\nI'll fuckin' cut your eyelids off and feed you nothin' but sleepin' pills\nGet yours, motherfucker\nSo fuck the ho, fuck the ho","syncedLyrics":"[00:00.20]Basically\n[00:02.67]Can't fuck with me\n[00:04.69]I came to bring the pain hardcore from the brain\n[00:07.78]Let's go inside my astral plane\n[00:09.53]Find out my mental, based on instrumental\n[00:11.73]Records, hey, so I can write monumental\n[00:14.18]Methods, I'm not the king\n[00:15.87]But niggas is decaf, I stick 'em for the cream\n[00:18.24]Check it, just how deep can shit get\n[00:20.67]Deep as the abyss and brothers is mad, fish accept it\n[00:23.61]In your Cross Colour clothes, you've crossed over\n[00:25.96]Then got Totally Krossed Out and Kris Krossed\n[00:28.39]Who the boss? Niggas get tossed to the side\n[00:30.66]And I'm the dark side of the Force\n[00:32.45]Of course it's the Method, Man from the Wu-Tang Clan\n[00:35.24]I be hectic, and comin' for the head piece, protect it\n[00:37.74]Fuck it, two tears in a bucket\n[00:39.41]Niggas want the ruckus\n[00:40.68]Bustin' at me, bruh, now bust it\n[00:42.44]Styles, I gets buckwild\n[00:44.09]Method Man on some shit, pullin' niggas files, I'm sick\n[00:47.13]Insane, crazy, driving Miss Daisy\n[00:49.59]Out her fucking mind, now I got mine, I'm Swayze\n[00:51.62]Is it real, son, is it really real, son?\n[00:53.77]Let me know it's real, son, if it's really real\n[00:56.25]Something I could feel, son, load it up and kill one\n[00:58.36]Want it raw deal, son, if it's really real, yeah, uh\n[01:01.53]When I was a likle stereo (stereo)\n[01:03.65]I listen to some Champion (Champion)\n[01:06.04]I always wondered (wondered)\n[01:08.42]When I will be di number one (Tical)\n[01:10.75]And now yuh listen to di Gorgon (Gorgon)\n[01:13.20]And a Gorgon sound a Rein\n[01:15.60]An' any jump and come tes' mi (test me)\n[01:17.82]Mi a-go lick out dem brain (it's like that)\n[01:20.02]Brothers wanna hang with the Meth, bring the rope\n[01:22.44]The only way you'll hang is by the neck\n[01:24.19]Nigga, bolt off the set, comin' to your projects\n[01:26.79]Take it as a threat, better yet it's a promise\n[01:29.08]Comin' from a vet on some old Vietnam shit\n[01:31.46]Nigga, you can bet your bottom dollar, hey, I bomb shit\n[01:33.70]And it's gonna get even worse, word to God\n[01:35.93]It's the Wu comin' through, stickin' niggas for they garments\n[01:38.44]Movin' on your left, southpaw, Mr. Meth\n[01:40.76]Came to represent and carve my name in your chest\n[01:43.10]You can come test, realize you're no contest\n[01:45.68]Son, I'm the gun that won that old Wild West\n[01:47.81]Quick on the draw with my hands on the four-\n[01:50.19]Nine-three-eleven with the rugged rhymes galore\n[01:52.56]Check it, 'cause I think not when this hip-hops like proper\n[01:55.45]Rhymes be the proof while I'm drinkin' 90 proof\n[01:57.70]Huh, vodka, no OJ, no straw\n[02:00.29]When you give it to me, ayy, give it to me raw\n[02:02.53]I've learned that when you drink Absolut straight it burns\n[02:05.41]Enough to give my chest hairs a perm\n[02:07.36]I don't need a chemical blow to pull a ho\n[02:09.70]All I need is Chemical Bank to pay the roll\n[02:12.47]What, basically that, Meth-Tical, '94 style\n[02:16.50](Northern spicy brown mustard hoes, word up, we be hazardous)\n[02:18.75]We have to stick you\n[02:21.21]Is it real, son, is it really real, son? (Motherfucker, I'll fuckin')\n[02:23.42]Let me know it's real, son, if it's really real\n[02:25.59]Something I could feel, son, load it up and kill one\n[02:27.92]Want it raw deal, son, if it's really real\n[02:30.52]I'll fuckin', I'll fuckin' cut your kneecaps off\n[02:34.91]And make you kneel at some staircase, piss\n[02:38.43]I'll fuckin' cut your eyelids off and feed you nothin' but sleepin' pills\n[02:54.35]Get yours, motherfucker\n[03:01.11]So fuck the ho, fuck the ho\n[03:05.03]","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Bring the Pain (LP version)\n  artist: Method Man\n  album: Bring the Pain\n  duration_ms: 193000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Basically\n  start_ms: 200\n  end_ms: 2670\n- text: Can't fuck with me\n  start_ms: 2670\n  end_ms: 4690\n- text: I came to bring the pain hardcore from the brain\n  start_ms: 4690\n  end_ms: 7780\n- text: Let's go inside my astral plane\n  start_ms: 7780\n  end_ms: 9530\n- text: Find out my mental, based on instrumental\n  start_ms: 9530\n  end_ms: 11730\n- text: Records, hey, so I can write monumental\n  start_ms: 11730\n  end_ms: 14180\n- text: Methods, I'm not the king\n  start_ms: 14180\n  end_ms: 15870\n- text: But niggas is decaf, I stick 'em for the cream\n  start_ms: 15870\n  end_ms: 18240\n- text: Check it, just how deep can shit get\n  start_ms: 18240\n  end_ms: 20670\n- text: Deep as the abyss and brothers is mad, fish accept it\n  start_ms: 20670\n  end_ms: 23610\n- text: In your Cross Colour clothes, you've crossed over\n  start_ms: 23610\n  end_ms: 25960\n- text: Then got Totally Krossed Out and Kris Krossed\n  start_ms: 25960\n  end_ms: 28390\n- text: Who the boss? Niggas get tossed to the side\n  start_ms: 28390\n  end_ms: 30660\n- text: And I'm the dark side of the Force\n  start_ms: 30660\n  end_ms: 32450\n- text: Of course it's the Method, Man from the Wu-Tang Clan\n  start_ms: 32450\n  end_ms: 35240\n- text: I be hectic, and comin' for the head piece, protect it\n  start_ms: 35240\n  end_ms: 37740\n- text: Fuck it, two tears in a bucket\n  start_ms: 37740\n  end_ms: 39410\n- text: Niggas want the ruckus\n  start_ms: 39410\n  end_ms: 40680\n- text: Bustin' at me, bruh, now bust it\n  start_ms: 40680\n  end_ms: 42440\n- text: Styles, I gets buckwild\n  start_ms: 42440\n  end_ms: 44090\n- text: Method Man on some shit, pullin' niggas files, I'm sick\n  start_ms: 44090\n  end_ms: 47130\n- text: Insane, crazy, driving Miss Daisy\n  start_ms: 47130\n  end_ms: 49590\n- text: Out her fucking mind, now I got mine, I'm Swayze\n  start_ms: 49590\n  end_ms: 51620\n- text: Is it real, son, is it really real, son?\n  start_ms: 51620\n  end_ms: 53770\n- text: Let me know it's real, son, if it's really real\n  start_ms: 53770\n  end_ms: 56250\n- text: Something I could feel, son, load it up and kill one\n  start_ms: 56250\n  end_ms: 58360\n- text: Want it raw deal, son, if it's really real, yeah, uh\n  start_ms: 58360\n  end_ms: 61530\n- text: When I was a likle stereo (stereo)\n  start_ms: 61530\n  end_ms: 63650\n- text: I listen to some Champion (Champion)\n  start_ms: 63650\n  end_ms: 66040\n- text: I always wondered (wondered)\n  start_ms: 66040\n  end_ms: 68420\n- text: When I will be di number one (Tical)\n  start_ms: 68420\n  end_ms: 70750\n- text: And now yuh listen to di Gorgon (Gorgon)\n  start_ms: 70750\n  end_ms: 73200\n- text: And a Gorgon sound a Rein\n  start_ms: 73200\n  end_ms: 75600\n- text: An' any jump and come tes' mi (test me)\n  start_ms: 75600\n  end_ms: 77820\n- text: Mi a-go lick out dem brain (it's like that)\n  start_ms: 77820\n  end_ms: 80020\n- text: Brothers wanna hang with the Meth, bring the rope\n  start_ms: 80020\n  end_ms: 82440\n- text: The only way you'll hang is by the neck\n  start_ms: 82440\n  end_ms: 84190\n- text: Nigga, bolt off the set, comin' to your projects\n  start_ms: 84190\n  end_ms: 86790\n- text: Take it as a threat, better yet it's a promise\n  start_ms: 86790\n  end_ms: 89080\n- text: Comin' from a vet on some old Vietnam shit\n  start_ms: 89080\n  end_ms: 91460\n- text: Nigga, you can bet your bottom dollar, hey, I bomb shit\n  start_ms: 91460\n  end_ms: 93700\n- text: And it's gonna get even worse, word to God\n  start_ms: 93700\n  end_ms: 95930\n- text: It's the Wu comin' through, stickin' niggas for they garments\n  start_ms: 95930\n  end_ms: 98440\n- text: Movin' on your left, southpaw, Mr. Meth\n  start_ms: 98440\n  end_ms: 100760\n- text: Came to represent and carve my name in your chest\n  start_ms: 100760\n  end_ms: 103100\n- text: You can come test, realize you're no contest\n  start_ms: 103100\n  end_ms: 105680\n- text: Son, I'm the gun that won that old Wild West\n  start_ms: 105680\n  end_ms: 107810\n- text: Quick on the draw with my hands on the four-\n  start_ms: 107810\n  end_ms: 110190\n- text: Nine-three-eleven with the rugged rhymes galore\n  start_ms: 110190\n  end_ms: 112560\n- text: Check it, 'cause I think not when this hip-hops like proper\n  start_ms: 112560\n  end_ms: 115450\n- text: Rhymes be the proof while I'm drinkin' 90 proof\n  start_ms: 115450\n  end_ms: 117700\n- text: Huh, vodka, no OJ, no straw\n  start_ms: 117700\n  end_ms: 120290\n- text: When you give it to me, ayy, give it to me raw\n  start_ms: 120290\n  end_ms: 122530\n- text: I've learned that when you drink Absolut straight it burns\n  start_ms: 122530\n  end_ms: 125410\n- text: Enough to give my chest hairs a perm\n  start_ms: 125410\n  end_ms: 127360\n- text: I don't need a chemical blow to pull a ho\n  start_ms: 127360\n  end_ms: 129700\n- text: All I need is Chemical Bank to pay the roll\n  start_ms: 129700\n  end_ms: 132470\n- text: What, basically that, Meth-Tical, '94 style\n  start_ms: 132470\n  end_ms: 136500\n- text: (Northern spicy brown mustard hoes, word up, we be hazardous)\n  start_ms: 136500\n  end_ms: 138750\n- text: We have to stick you\n  start_ms: 138750\n  end_ms: 141210\n- text: Is it real, son, is it really real, son? (Motherfucker, I'll fuckin')\n  start_ms: 141210\n  end_ms: 143420\n- text: Let me know it's real, son, if it's really real\n  start_ms: 143420\n  end_ms: 145590\n- text: Something I could feel, son, load it up and kill one\n  start_ms: 145590\n  end_ms: 147920\n- text: Want it raw deal, son, if it's really real\n  start_ms: 147920\n  end_ms: 150520\n- text: I'll fuckin', I'll fuckin' cut your kneecaps off\n  start_ms: 150520\n  end_ms: 154910\n- text: And make you kneel at some staircase, piss\n  start_ms: 154910\n  end_ms: 158430\n- text: I'll fuckin' cut your eyelids off and feed you nothin' but sleepin' pills\n  start_ms: 158430\n  end_ms: 174350\n- text: Get yours, motherfucker\n  start_ms: 174350\n  end_ms: 181110\n- text: So fuck the ho, fuck the ho\n  start_ms: 181110\n  end_ms: 185030\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 185030\nplain: |-\n  Basically\n  Can't fuck with me\n\n  I came to bring the pain hardcore from the brain\n  Let's go inside my astral plane\n  Find out my mental, based on instrumental\n  Records, hey, so I can write monumental\n  Methods, I'm not the king\n  But niggas is decaf, I stick 'em for the cream\n  Check it, just how deep can shit get\n  Deep as the abyss and brothers is mad, fish accept it\n\n  In your Cross Colour clothes, you've crossed over\n  Then got Totally Krossed Out and Kris Krossed\n  Who the boss? Niggas get tossed to the side\n  And I'm the dark side of the Force\n  Of course it's the Method, Man from the Wu-Tang Clan\n  I be hectic, and comin' for the head piece, protect it\n  Fuck it, two tears in a bucket\n  Niggas want the ruckus\n  Bustin' at me, bruh, now bust it\n\n  Styles, I gets buckwild\n  Method Man on some shit, pullin' niggas files, I'm sick\n  Insane, crazy, driving Miss Daisy\n  Out her fucking mind, now I got mine, I'm Swayze\n\n  Is it real, son, is it really real, son?\n  Let me know it's real, son, if it's really real\n  Something I could feel, son, load it up and kill one\n  Want it raw deal, son, if it's really real, yeah, uh\n\n  When I was a likle stereo (stereo)\n  I listen to some Champion (Champion)\n  I always wondered (wondered)\n  When I will be di number one (Tical)\n  And now yuh listen to di Gorgon (Gorgon)\n  And a Gorgon sound a Rein\n  An' any jump and come tes' mi (test me)\n  Mi a-go lick out dem brain (it's like that)\n\n  Brothers wanna hang with the Meth, bring the rope\n  The only way you'll hang is by the neck\n  Nigga, bolt off the set, comin' to your projects\n  Take it as a threat, better yet it's a promise\n  Comin' from a vet on some old Vietnam shit\n  Nigga, you can bet your bottom dollar, hey, I bomb shit\n  And it's gonna get even worse, word to God\n  It's the Wu comin' through, stickin' niggas for they garments\n\n  Movin' on your left, southpaw, Mr. Meth\n  Came to represent and carve my name in your chest\n  You can come test, realize you're no contest\n  Son, I'm the gun that won that old Wild West\n  Quick on the draw with my hands on the four-\n  Nine-three-eleven with the rugged rhymes galore\n  Check it, 'cause I think not when this hip-hops like proper\n  Rhymes be the proof while I'm drinkin' 90 proof\n\n  Huh, vodka, no OJ, no straw\n  When you give it to me, ayy, give it to me raw\n  I've learned that when you drink Absolut straight it burns\n  Enough to give my chest hairs a perm\n  I don't need a chemical blow to pull a ho\n  All I need is Chemical Bank to pay the roll\n\n  What, basically that, Meth-Tical, '94 style\n  (Northern spicy brown mustard hoes, word up, we be hazardous)\n  We have to stick you\n\n  Is it real, son, is it really real, son? (Motherfucker, I'll fuckin')\n  Let me know it's real, son, if it's really real\n  Something I could feel, son, load it up and kill one\n  Want it raw deal, son, if it's really real\n\n  I'll fuckin', I'll fuckin' cut your kneecaps off\n  And make you kneel at some staircase, piss\n  I'll fuckin' cut your eyelids off and feed you nothin' but sleepin' pills\n  Get yours, motherfucker\n  So fuck the ho, fuck the ho\n"},{"id":21875037,"name":"Method Man - Bring The Pain","trackName":"Method Man - Bring The Pain","artistName":"Method Man","albumName":"Rap","duration":202.512,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Basically\nCan't fuck with me\n\nI came to bring the pain hardcore from the brain\nLet's go inside my astral plane\nFind out my mental, based on instrumental\nRecords, hey, so I can write monumental\nMethods, I'm not the king\nBut niggas is decaf, I stick 'em for the cream\nCheck it, just how deep can shit get\nDeep as the abyss and brothers is mad, fish accept it\n\nIn your Cross Colour clothes, you've crossed over\nThen got Totally Krossed Out and Kris Krossed\nWho the boss? Niggas get tossed to the side\nAnd I'm the dark side of the Force\nOf course it's the Method, Man from the Wu-Tang Clan\nI be hectic, and comin' for the head piece, protect it\nFuck it, two tears in a bucket\nNiggas want the ruckus\nBustin' at me, bruh, now bust it\n\nStyles, I gets buckwild\nMethod Man on some shit, pullin' niggas files, I'm sick\nInsane, crazy, driving Miss Daisy\nOut her fucking mind, now I got mine, I'm Swayze\n\nIs it real, son, is it really real, son?\nLet me know it's real, son, if it's really real\nSomething I could feel, son, load it up and kill one\nWant it raw deal, son, if it's really real, yeah, uh\n\nWhen I was a likle stereo (stereo)\nI listen to some Champion (Champion)\nI always wondered (wondered)\nWhen I will be di number one (Tical)\nAnd now yuh listen to di Gorgon (Gorgon)\nAnd a Gorgon sound a Rein\nAn' any jump and come tes' mi (test me)\nMi a-go lick out dem brain (it's like that)\n\nBrothers wanna hang with the Meth, bring the rope\nThe only way you'll hang is by the neck\nNigga, bolt off the set, comin' to your projects\nTake it as a threat, better yet it's a promise\nComin' from a vet on some old Vietnam shit\nNigga, you can bet your bottom dollar, hey, I bomb shit\nAnd it's gonna get even worse, word to God\nIt's the Wu comin' through, stickin' niggas for they garments\n\nMovin' on your left, southpaw, Mr. Meth\nCame to represent and carve my name in your chest\nYou can come test, realize you're no contest\nSon, I'm the gun that won that old Wild West\nQuick on the draw with my hands on the four-\nNine-three-eleven with the rugged rhymes galore\nCheck it, 'cause I think not when this hip-hops like proper\nRhymes be the proof while I'm drinkin' 90 proof\n\nHuh, vodka, no OJ, no straw\nWhen you give it to me, ayy, give it to me raw\nI've learned that when you drink Absolut straight it burns\nEnough to give my chest hairs a perm\nI don't need a chemical blow to pull a ho\nAll I need is Chemical Bank to pay the roll\n\nWhat, basically that, Meth-Tical, '94 style\n(Northern spicy brown mustard hoes, word up, we be hazardous)\nWe have to stick you\n\nIs it real, son, is it really real, son? (Motherfucker, I'll fuckin')\nLet me know it's real, son, if it's really real\nSomething I could feel, son, load it up and kill one\nWant it raw deal, son, if it's really real\n\nI'll fuckin', I'll fuckin' cut your kneecaps off\nAnd make you kneel at some staircase, piss\nI'll fuckin' cut your eyelids off and feed you nothin' but sleepin' pills\nGet yours, motherfucker\nSo fuck the ho, fuck the ho","syncedLyrics":"[00:06.33] Basically\n[00:08.46] Can't fuck with me\n[00:10.35] I came to bring the pain hardcore from the brain\n[00:11.59] Let's go inside my astral plane\n[00:13.72] Find out my mental, based on instrumental\n[00:16.46] Records, hey, so I can write monumental\n[00:18.97] Methods, I'm not the king\n[00:21.55] But niggas is decaf, I stick 'em for the cream\n[00:23.16] Check it, just how deep can shit get\n[00:25.60] Deep as the abyss and brothers is mad, fish accept it\n[00:27.77] In your Cross Colour clothes, you've crossed over\n[00:30.13] Then got Totally Krossed Out and Kris Krossed\n[00:32.50] Who the boss? Niggas get tossed to the side\n[00:35.17] And I'm the dark side of the Force\n[00:36.95] Of course it's the Method, Man from the Wu-Tang Clan\n[00:39.42] I be hectic, and comin' for the head piece, protect it\n[00:42.30] Fuck it, two tears in a bucket\n[00:44.55] Niggas want the ruckus\n[00:45.91] Bustin' at me, bruh, now bust it\n[00:47.57] Styles, I gets buckwild\n[00:48.71] Method Man on some shit, pullin' niggas files, I'm sick\n[00:51.66] Insane, crazy, driving Miss Daisy\n[00:53.98] Out her fucking mind, now I got mine, I'm Swayze\n[00:56.59] Is it real, son, is it really real, son?\n[00:58.57] Let me know it's real, son, if it's really real\n[01:00.30] Something I could feel, son, load it up and kill one\n[01:03.13] Want it raw deal, son, if it's really real, yeah, uh\n[01:05.41] When I was a likle stereo (stereo)\n[01:08.11] I listen to some Champion (Champion)\n[01:10.28] I always wondered (wondered)\n[01:13.10] When I will be di number one (Tical)\n[01:15.25] And now yuh listen to di Gorgon (Gorgon)\n[01:18.36] And a Gorgon sound a Rein\n[01:20.15] An' any jump and come tes' mi (test me)\n[01:22.35] Mi a-go lick out dem brain (it's like that)\n[01:25.58] Brothers wanna hang with the Meth, bring the rope\n[01:27.42] The only way you'll hang is by the neck\n[01:29.42] Nigga, bolt off the set, comin' to your projects\n[01:30.93] Take it as a threat, better yet it's a promise\n[01:32.78] Comin' from a vet on some old Vietnam shit\n[01:35.23] Nigga, you can bet your bottom dollar, hey, I bomb shit\n[01:37.50] And it's gonna get even worse, word to God\n[01:40.12] It's the Wu comin' through, stickin' niggas for they garments\n[01:42.63] Movin' on your left, southpaw, Mr. Meth\n[01:45.48] Came to represent and carve my name in your chest\n[01:48.37] You can come test, realize you're no contest\n[01:50.45] Son, I'm the gun that won that old Wild West\n[01:52.49] Quick on the draw with my hands on the four-\n[01:54.73] Nine-three-eleven with the rugged rhymes galore\n[01:57.07] Check it, 'cause I think not when this hip-hops like proper\n[01:59.76] Rhymes be the proof while I'm drinkin' 90 proof\n[02:02.45] Huh, vodka, no OJ, no straw\n[02:04.63] When you give it to me, ayy, give it to me raw\n[02:07.25] I've learned that when you drink Absolut straight it burns\n[02:09.84] Enough to give my chest hairs a perm\n[02:12.10] I don't need a chemical blow to pull a ho\n[02:15.17] All I need is Chemical Bank to pay the roll\n[02:16.57] What, basically that, Meth-Tical, '94 style\n[02:21.21] (Northern spicy brown mustard hoes, word up, we be hazardous)\n[02:24.88] We have to stick you\n[02:26.05] Is it real, son, is it really real, son? (Motherfucker, I'll fuckin')\n[02:30.01] Let me know it's real, son, if it's really real\n[02:32.03] Something I could feel, son, load it up and kill one\n[02:34.01] Want it raw deal, son, if it's really real\n[02:50.37] I'll fuckin', I'll fuckin' cut your kneecaps off\n[02:52.99] And make you kneel at some staircase, piss\n[02:54.79] I'll fuckin' cut your eyelids off and feed you nothin' but sleepin' pills\n[02:56.09] Get yours, motherfucker\n[03:00.82] So fuck the ho, fuck the ho\n[03:03.22] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Method Man - Bring The Pain\n  artist: Method Man\n  album: Rap\n  duration_ms: 202512\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Basically\n  start_ms: 6330\n  end_ms: 8460\n- text: Can't fuck with me\n  start_ms: 8460\n  end_ms: 10350\n- text: I came to bring the pain hardcore from the brain\n  start_ms: 10350\n  end_ms: 11590\n- text: Let's go inside my astral plane\n  start_ms: 11590\n  end_ms: 13720\n- text: Find out my mental, based on instrumental\n  start_ms: 13720\n  end_ms: 16460\n- text: Records, hey, so I can write monumental\n  start_ms: 16460\n  end_ms: 18970\n- text: Methods, I'm not the king\n  start_ms: 18970\n  end_ms: 21550\n- text: But niggas is decaf, I stick 'em for the cream\n  start_ms: 21550\n  end_ms: 23160\n- text: Check it, just how deep can shit get\n  start_ms: 23160\n  end_ms: 25600\n- text: Deep as the abyss and brothers is mad, fish accept it\n  start_ms: 25600\n  end_ms: 27770\n- text: In your Cross Colour clothes, you've crossed over\n  start_ms: 27770\n  end_ms: 30130\n- text: Then got Totally Krossed Out and Kris Krossed\n  start_ms: 30130\n  end_ms: 32500\n- text: Who the boss? Niggas get tossed to the side\n  start_ms: 32500\n  end_ms: 35170\n- text: And I'm the dark side of the Force\n  start_ms: 35170\n  end_ms: 36950\n- text: Of course it's the Method, Man from the Wu-Tang Clan\n  start_ms: 36950\n  end_ms: 39420\n- text: I be hectic, and comin' for the head piece, protect it\n  start_ms: 39420\n  end_ms: 42300\n- text: Fuck it, two tears in a bucket\n  start_ms: 42300\n  end_ms: 44550\n- text: Niggas want the ruckus\n  start_ms: 44550\n  end_ms: 45910\n- text: Bustin' at me, bruh, now bust it\n  start_ms: 45910\n  end_ms: 47570\n- text: Styles, I gets buckwild\n  start_ms: 47570\n  end_ms: 48710\n- text: Method Man on some shit, pullin' niggas files, I'm sick\n  start_ms: 48710\n  end_ms: 51660\n- text: Insane, crazy, driving Miss Daisy\n  start_ms: 51660\n  end_ms: 53980\n- text: Out her fucking mind, now I got mine, I'm Swayze\n  start_ms: 53980\n  end_ms: 56590\n- text: Is it real, son, is it really real, son?\n  start_ms: 56590\n  end_ms: 58570\n- text: Let me know it's real, son, if it's really real\n  start_ms: 58570\n  end_ms: 60300\n- text: Something I could feel, son, load it up and kill one\n  start_ms: 60300\n  end_ms: 63130\n- text: Want it raw deal, son, if it's really real, yeah, uh\n  start_ms: 63130\n  end_ms: 65410\n- text: When I was a likle stereo (stereo)\n  start_ms: 65410\n  end_ms: 68110\n- text: I listen to some Champion (Champion)\n  start_ms: 68110\n  end_ms: 70280\n- text: I always wondered (wondered)\n  start_ms: 70280\n  end_ms: 73100\n- text: When I will be di number one (Tical)\n  start_ms: 73100\n  end_ms: 75250\n- text: And now yuh listen to di Gorgon (Gorgon)\n  start_ms: 75250\n  end_ms: 78360\n- text: And a Gorgon sound a Rein\n  start_ms: 78360\n  end_ms: 80150\n- text: An' any jump and come tes' mi (test me)\n  start_ms: 80150\n  end_ms: 82350\n- text: Mi a-go lick out dem brain (it's like that)\n  start_ms: 82350\n  end_ms: 85580\n- text: Brothers wanna hang with the Meth, bring the rope\n  start_ms: 85580\n  end_ms: 87420\n- text: The only way you'll hang is by the neck\n  start_ms: 87420\n  end_ms: 89420\n- text: Nigga, bolt off the set, comin' to your projects\n  start_ms: 89420\n  end_ms: 90930\n- text: Take it as a threat, better yet it's a promise\n  start_ms: 90930\n  end_ms: 92780\n- text: Comin' from a vet on some old Vietnam shit\n  start_ms: 92780\n  end_ms: 95230\n- text: Nigga, you can bet your bottom dollar, hey, I bomb shit\n  start_ms: 95230\n  end_ms: 97500\n- text: And it's gonna get even worse, word to God\n  start_ms: 97500\n  end_ms: 100120\n- text: It's the Wu comin' through, stickin' niggas for they garments\n  start_ms: 100120\n  end_ms: 102630\n- text: Movin' on your left, southpaw, Mr. Meth\n  start_ms: 102630\n  end_ms: 105480\n- text: Came to represent and carve my name in your chest\n  start_ms: 105480\n  end_ms: 108370\n- text: You can come test, realize you're no contest\n  start_ms: 108370\n  end_ms: 110450\n- text: Son, I'm the gun that won that old Wild West\n  start_ms: 110450\n  end_ms: 112490\n- text: Quick on the draw with my hands on the four-\n  start_ms: 112490\n  end_ms: 114730\n- text: Nine-three-eleven with the rugged rhymes galore\n  start_ms: 114730\n  end_ms: 117070\n- text: Check it, 'cause I think not when this hip-hops like proper\n  start_ms: 117070\n  end_ms: 119760\n- text: Rhymes be the proof while I'm drinkin' 90 proof\n  start_ms: 119760\n  end_ms: 122450\n- text: Huh, vodka, no OJ, no straw\n  start_ms: 122450\n  end_ms: 124630\n- text: When you give it to me, ayy, give it to me raw\n  start_ms: 124630\n  end_ms: 127250\n- text: I've learned that when you drink Absolut straight it burns\n  start_ms: 127250\n  end_ms: 129840\n- text: Enough to give my chest hairs a perm\n  start_ms: 129840\n  end_ms: 132100\n- text: I don't need a chemical blow to pull a ho\n  start_ms: 132100\n  end_ms: 135170\n- text: All I need is Chemical Bank to pay the roll\n  start_ms: 135170\n  end_ms: 136570\n- text: What, basically that, Meth-Tical, '94 style\n  start_ms: 136570\n  end_ms: 141210\n- text: (Northern spicy brown mustard hoes, word up, we be hazardous)\n  start_ms: 141210\n  end_ms: 144880\n- text: We have to stick you\n  start_ms: 144880\n  end_ms: 146050\n- text: Is it real, son, is it really real, son? (Motherfucker, I'll fuckin')\n  start_ms: 146050\n  end_ms: 150010\n- text: Let me know it's real, son, if it's really real\n  start_ms: 150010\n  end_ms: 152030\n- text: Something I could feel, son, load it up and kill one\n  start_ms: 152030\n  end_ms: 154010\n- text: Want it raw deal, son, if it's really real\n  start_ms: 154010\n  end_ms: 170370\n- text: I'll fuckin', I'll fuckin' cut your kneecaps off\n  start_ms: 170370\n  end_ms: 172990\n- text: And make you kneel at some staircase, piss\n  start_ms: 172990\n  end_ms: 174790\n- text: I'll fuckin' cut your eyelids off and feed you nothin' but sleepin' pills\n  start_ms: 174790\n  end_ms: 176090\n- text: Get yours, motherfucker\n  start_ms: 176090\n  end_ms: 180820\n- text: So fuck the ho, fuck the ho\n  start_ms: 180820\n  end_ms: 183220\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 183220\nplain: |-\n  Basically\n  Can't fuck with me\n\n  I came to bring the pain hardcore from the brain\n  Let's go inside my astral plane\n  Find out my mental, based on instrumental\n  Records, hey, so I can write monumental\n  Methods, I'm not the king\n  But niggas is decaf, I stick 'em for the cream\n  Check it, just how deep can shit get\n  Deep as the abyss and brothers is mad, fish accept it\n\n  In your Cross Colour clothes, you've crossed over\n  Then got Totally Krossed Out and Kris Krossed\n  Who the boss? Niggas get tossed to the side\n  And I'm the dark side of the Force\n  Of course it's the Method, Man from the Wu-Tang Clan\n  I be hectic, and comin' for the head piece, protect it\n  Fuck it, two tears in a bucket\n  Niggas want the ruckus\n  Bustin' at me, bruh, now bust it\n\n  Styles, I gets buckwild\n  Method Man on some shit, pullin' niggas files, I'm sick\n  Insane, crazy, driving Miss Daisy\n  Out her fucking mind, now I got mine, I'm Swayze\n\n  Is it real, son, is it really real, son?\n  Let me know it's real, son, if it's really real\n  Something I could feel, son, load it up and kill one\n  Want it raw deal, son, if it's really real, yeah, uh\n\n  When I was a likle stereo (stereo)\n  I listen to some Champion (Champion)\n  I always wondered (wondered)\n  When I will be di number one (Tical)\n  And now yuh listen to di Gorgon (Gorgon)\n  And a Gorgon sound a Rein\n  An' any jump and come tes' mi (test me)\n  Mi a-go lick out dem brain (it's like that)\n\n  Brothers wanna hang with the Meth, bring the rope\n  The only way you'll hang is by the neck\n  Nigga, bolt off the set, comin' to your projects\n  Take it as a threat, better yet it's a promise\n  Comin' from a vet on some old Vietnam shit\n  Nigga, you can bet your bottom dollar, hey, I bomb shit\n  And it's gonna get even worse, word to God\n  It's the Wu comin' through, stickin' niggas for they garments\n\n  Movin' on your left, southpaw, Mr. Meth\n  Came to represent and carve my name in your chest\n  You can come test, realize you're no contest\n  Son, I'm the gun that won that old Wild West\n  Quick on the draw with my hands on the four-\n  Nine-three-eleven with the rugged rhymes galore\n  Check it, 'cause I think not when this hip-hops like proper\n  Rhymes be the proof while I'm drinkin' 90 proof\n\n  Huh, vodka, no OJ, no straw\n  When you give it to me, ayy, give it to me raw\n  I've learned that when you drink Absolut straight it burns\n  Enough to give my chest hairs a perm\n  I don't need a chemical blow to pull a ho\n  All I need is Chemical Bank to pay the roll\n\n  What, basically that, Meth-Tical, '94 style\n  (Northern spicy brown mustard hoes, word up, we be hazardous)\n  We have to stick you\n\n  Is it real, son, is it really real, son? (Motherfucker, I'll fuckin')\n  Let me know it's real, son, if it's really real\n  Something I could feel, son, load it up and kill one\n  Want it raw deal, son, if it's really real\n\n  I'll fuckin', I'll fuckin' cut your kneecaps off\n  And make you kneel at some staircase, piss\n  I'll fuckin' cut your eyelids off and feed you nothin' but sleepin' pills\n  Get yours, motherfucker\n  So fuck the ho, fuck the ho\n"},{"id":7131945,"name":"Bring The Pain","trackName":"Bring The Pain","artistName":"Method Man","albumName":"Vol. 2 - DJ Bring That Back 1996-1984","duration":190.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Basically\nCan't fuck with me\n\nI came to bring the pain hardcore from the brain\nLet's go inside my astral plane\nFind out my mental, based on instrumental\nRecords, hey, so I can write monumental\nMethods, I'm not the king\nBut niggas is decaf, I stick 'em for the cream\nCheck it, just how deep can shit get\nDeep as the abyss and brothers is mad, fish accept it\n\nIn your Cross Colour clothes, you've crossed over\nThen got Totally Krossed Out and Kris Krossed\nWho the boss? Niggas get tossed to the side\nAnd I'm the dark side of the Force\nOf course it's the Method, Man from the Wu-Tang Clan\nI be hectic, and comin' for the head piece, protect it\nFuck it, two tears in a bucket\nNiggas want the ruckus\nBustin' at me, bruh, now bust it\n\nStyles, I gets buckwild\nMethod Man on some shit, pullin' niggas files, I'm sick\nInsane, crazy, driving Miss Daisy\nOut her fucking mind, now I got mine, I'm Swayze\n\nIs it real, son, is it really real, son?\nLet me know it's real, son, if it's really real\nSomething I could feel, son, load it up and kill one\nWant it raw deal, son, if it's really real, yeah, uh\n\nWhen I was a likle stereo (stereo)\nI listen to some Champion (Champion)\nI always wondered (wondered)\nWhen I will be di number one (Tical)\nAnd now yuh listen to di Gorgon (Gorgon)\nAnd a Gorgon sound a Rein\nAn' any jump and come tes' mi (test me)\nMi a-go lick out dem brain (it's like that)\n\nBrothers wanna hang with the Meth, bring the rope\nThe only way you'll hang is by the neck\nNigga, bolt off the set, comin' to your projects\nTake it as a threat, better yet it's a promise\nComin' from a vet on some old Vietnam shit\nNigga, you can bet your bottom dollar, hey, I bomb shit\nAnd it's gonna get even worse, word to God\nIt's the Wu comin' through, stickin' niggas for they garments\n\nMovin' on your left, southpaw, Mr. Meth\nCame to represent and carve my name in your chest\nYou can come test, realize you're no contest\nSon, I'm the gun that won that old Wild West\nQuick on the draw with my hands on the four-\nNine-three-eleven with the rugged rhymes galore\nCheck it, 'cause I think not when this hip-hops like proper\nRhymes be the proof while I'm drinkin' 90 proof\n\nHuh, vodka, no OJ, no straw\nWhen you give it to me, ayy, give it to me raw\nI've learned that when you drink Absolut straight it burns\nEnough to give my chest hairs a perm\nI don't need a chemical blow to pull a ho\nAll I need is Chemical Bank to pay the roll\n\nWhat, basically that, Meth-Tical, '94 style\n(Northern spicy brown mustard hoes, word up, we be hazardous)\nWe have to stick you\n\nIs it real, son, is it really real, son? (Motherfucker, I'll fuckin')\nLet me know it's real, son, if it's really real\nSomething I could feel, son, load it up and kill one\nWant it raw deal, son, if it's really real\n\nI'll fuckin', I'll fuckin' cut your kneecaps off\nAnd make you kneel at some staircase, piss\nI'll fuckin' cut your eyelids off and feed you nothin' but sleepin' pills\nGet yours, motherfucker\nSo fuck the ho, fuck the ho","syncedLyrics":"[00:00.20] Basically\n[00:02.67] Can't fuck with me\n[00:04.69] I came to bring the pain hardcore from the brain\n[00:07.78] Let's go inside my astral plane\n[00:09.53] Find out my mental, based on instrumental\n[00:11.73] Records, hey, so I can write monumental\n[00:14.18] Methods, I'm not the king\n[00:15.87] But niggas is decaf, I stick 'em for the cream\n[00:18.24] Check it, just how deep can shit get\n[00:20.67] Deep as the abyss and brothers is mad, fish accept it\n[00:23.61] In your Cross Colour clothes, you've crossed over\n[00:25.96] Then got Totally Krossed Out and Kris Krossed\n[00:28.39] Who the boss? Niggas get tossed to the side\n[00:30.66] And I'm the dark side of the Force\n[00:32.45] Of course it's the Method, Man from the Wu-Tang Clan\n[00:35.24] I be hectic, and comin' for the head piece, protect it\n[00:37.74] Fuck it, two tears in a bucket\n[00:39.41] Niggas want the ruckus\n[00:40.68] Bustin' at me, bruh, now bust it\n[00:42.44] Styles, I gets buckwild\n[00:44.09] Method Man on some shit, pullin' niggas files, I'm sick\n[00:47.13] Insane, crazy, driving Miss Daisy\n[00:49.59] Out her fucking mind, now I got mine, I'm Swayze\n[00:51.62] Is it real, son, is it really real, son?\n[00:53.77] Let me know it's real, son, if it's really real\n[00:56.25] Something I could feel, son, load it up and kill one\n[00:58.36] Want it raw deal, son, if it's really real, yeah, uh\n[01:01.53] When I was a likle stereo (stereo)\n[01:03.65] I listen to some Champion (Champion)\n[01:06.04] I always wondered (wondered)\n[01:08.42] When I will be di number one (Tical)\n[01:10.75] And now yuh listen to di Gorgon (Gorgon)\n[01:13.20] And a Gorgon sound a Rein\n[01:15.60] An' any jump and come tes' mi (test me)\n[01:17.82] Mi a-go lick out dem brain (it's like that)\n[01:20.02] Brothers wanna hang with the Meth, bring the rope\n[01:22.44] The only way you'll hang is by the neck\n[01:24.19] Nigga, bolt off the set, comin' to your projects\n[01:26.79] Take it as a threat, better yet it's a promise\n[01:29.08] Comin' from a vet on some old Vietnam shit\n[01:31.46] Nigga, you can bet your bottom dollar, hey, I bomb shit\n[01:33.70] And it's gonna get even worse, word to God\n[01:35.93] It's the Wu comin' through, stickin' niggas for they garments\n[01:38.44] Movin' on your left, southpaw, Mr. Meth\n[01:40.76] Came to represent and carve my name in your chest\n[01:43.10] You can come test, realize you're no contest\n[01:45.68] Son, I'm the gun that won that old Wild West\n[01:47.81] Quick on the draw with my hands on the four-\n[01:50.19] Nine-three-eleven with the rugged rhymes galore\n[01:52.56] Check it, 'cause I think not when this hip-hops like proper\n[01:55.45] Rhymes be the proof while I'm drinkin' 90 proof\n[01:57.70] Huh, vodka, no OJ, no straw\n[02:00.29] When you give it to me, ayy, give it to me raw\n[02:02.53] I've learned that when you drink Absolut straight it burns\n[02:05.41] Enough to give my chest hairs a perm\n[02:07.36] I don't need a chemical blow to pull a ho\n[02:09.70] All I need is Chemical Bank to pay the roll\n[02:12.47] What, basically that, Meth-Tical, '94 style\n[02:16.50] (Northern spicy brown mustard hoes, word up, we be hazardous)\n[02:18.75] We have to stick you\n[02:21.21] Is it real, son, is it really real, son? (Motherfucker, I'll fuckin')\n[02:23.42] Let me know it's real, son, if it's really real\n[02:25.59] Something I could feel, son, load it up and kill one\n[02:27.92] Want it raw deal, son, if it's really real\n[02:30.52] I'll fuckin', I'll fuckin' cut your kneecaps off\n[02:34.91] And make you kneel at some staircase, piss\n[02:38.43] I'll fuckin' cut your eyelids off and feed you nothin' but sleepin' pills\n[02:54.35] Get yours, motherfucker\n[03:01.11] So fuck the ho, fuck the ho\n[03:05.03] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Bring The Pain\n  artist: Method Man\n  album: Vol. 2 - DJ Bring That Back 1996-1984\n  duration_ms: 190000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Basically\n  start_ms: 200\n  end_ms: 2670\n- text: Can't fuck with me\n  start_ms: 2670\n  end_ms: 4690\n- text: I came to bring the pain hardcore from the brain\n  start_ms: 4690\n  end_ms: 7780\n- text: Let's go inside my astral plane\n  start_ms: 7780\n  end_ms: 9530\n- text: Find out my mental, based on instrumental\n  start_ms: 9530\n  end_ms: 11730\n- text: Records, hey, so I can write monumental\n  start_ms: 11730\n  end_ms: 14180\n- text: Methods, I'm not the king\n  start_ms: 14180\n  end_ms: 15870\n- text: But niggas is decaf, I stick 'em for the cream\n  start_ms: 15870\n  end_ms: 18240\n- text: Check it, just how deep can shit get\n  start_ms: 18240\n  end_ms: 20670\n- text: Deep as the abyss and brothers is mad, fish accept it\n  start_ms: 20670\n  end_ms: 23610\n- text: In your Cross Colour clothes, you've crossed over\n  start_ms: 23610\n  end_ms: 25960\n- text: Then got Totally Krossed Out and Kris Krossed\n  start_ms: 25960\n  end_ms: 28390\n- text: Who the boss? Niggas get tossed to the side\n  start_ms: 28390\n  end_ms: 30660\n- text: And I'm the dark side of the Force\n  start_ms: 30660\n  end_ms: 32450\n- text: Of course it's the Method, Man from the Wu-Tang Clan\n  start_ms: 32450\n  end_ms: 35240\n- text: I be hectic, and comin' for the head piece, protect it\n  start_ms: 35240\n  end_ms: 37740\n- text: Fuck it, two tears in a bucket\n  start_ms: 37740\n  end_ms: 39410\n- text: Niggas want the ruckus\n  start_ms: 39410\n  end_ms: 40680\n- text: Bustin' at me, bruh, now bust it\n  start_ms: 40680\n  end_ms: 42440\n- text: Styles, I gets buckwild\n  start_ms: 42440\n  end_ms: 44090\n- text: Method Man on some shit, pullin' niggas files, I'm sick\n  start_ms: 44090\n  end_ms: 47130\n- text: Insane, crazy, driving Miss Daisy\n  start_ms: 47130\n  end_ms: 49590\n- text: Out her fucking mind, now I got mine, I'm Swayze\n  start_ms: 49590\n  end_ms: 51620\n- text: Is it real, son, is it really real, son?\n  start_ms: 51620\n  end_ms: 53770\n- text: Let me know it's real, son, if it's really real\n  start_ms: 53770\n  end_ms: 56250\n- text: Something I could feel, son, load it up and kill one\n  start_ms: 56250\n  end_ms: 58360\n- text: Want it raw deal, son, if it's really real, yeah, uh\n  start_ms: 58360\n  end_ms: 61530\n- text: When I was a likle stereo (stereo)\n  start_ms: 61530\n  end_ms: 63650\n- text: I listen to some Champion (Champion)\n  start_ms: 63650\n  end_ms: 66040\n- text: I always wondered (wondered)\n  start_ms: 66040\n  end_ms: 68420\n- text: When I will be di number one (Tical)\n  start_ms: 68420\n  end_ms: 70750\n- text: And now yuh listen to di Gorgon (Gorgon)\n  start_ms: 70750\n  end_ms: 73200\n- text: And a Gorgon sound a Rein\n  start_ms: 73200\n  end_ms: 75600\n- text: An' any jump and come tes' mi (test me)\n  start_ms: 75600\n  end_ms: 77820\n- text: Mi a-go lick out dem brain (it's like that)\n  start_ms: 77820\n  end_ms: 80020\n- text: Brothers wanna hang with the Meth, bring the rope\n  start_ms: 80020\n  end_ms: 82440\n- text: The only way you'll hang is by the neck\n  start_ms: 82440\n  end_ms: 84190\n- text: Nigga, bolt off the set, comin' to your projects\n  start_ms: 84190\n  end_ms: 86790\n- text: Take it as a threat, better yet it's a promise\n  start_ms: 86790\n  end_ms: 89080\n- text: Comin' from a vet on some old Vietnam shit\n  start_ms: 89080\n  end_ms: 91460\n- text: Nigga, you can bet your bottom dollar, hey, I bomb shit\n  start_ms: 91460\n  end_ms: 93700\n- text: And it's gonna get even worse, word to God\n  start_ms: 93700\n  end_ms: 95930\n- text: It's the Wu comin' through, stickin' niggas for they garments\n  start_ms: 95930\n  end_ms: 98440\n- text: Movin' on your left, southpaw, Mr. Meth\n  start_ms: 98440\n  end_ms: 100760\n- text: Came to represent and carve my name in your chest\n  start_ms: 100760\n  end_ms: 103100\n- text: You can come test, realize you're no contest\n  start_ms: 103100\n  end_ms: 105680\n- text: Son, I'm the gun that won that old Wild West\n  start_ms: 105680\n  end_ms: 107810\n- text: Quick on the draw with my hands on the four-\n  start_ms: 107810\n  end_ms: 110190\n- text: Nine-three-eleven with the rugged rhymes galore\n  start_ms: 110190\n  end_ms: 112560\n- text: Check it, 'cause I think not when this hip-hops like proper\n  start_ms: 112560\n  end_ms: 115450\n- text: Rhymes be the proof while I'm drinkin' 90 proof\n  start_ms: 115450\n  end_ms: 117700\n- text: Huh, vodka, no OJ, no straw\n  start_ms: 117700\n  end_ms: 120290\n- text: When you give it to me, ayy, give it to me raw\n  start_ms: 120290\n  end_ms: 122530\n- text: I've learned that when you drink Absolut straight it burns\n  start_ms: 122530\n  end_ms: 125410\n- text: Enough to give my chest hairs a perm\n  start_ms: 125410\n  end_ms: 127360\n- text: I don't need a chemical blow to pull a ho\n  start_ms: 127360\n  end_ms: 129700\n- text: All I need is Chemical Bank to pay the roll\n  start_ms: 129700\n  end_ms: 132470\n- text: What, basically that, Meth-Tical, '94 style\n  start_ms: 132470\n  end_ms: 136500\n- text: (Northern spicy brown mustard hoes, word up, we be hazardous)\n  start_ms: 136500\n  end_ms: 138750\n- text: We have to stick you\n  start_ms: 138750\n  end_ms: 141210\n- text: Is it real, son, is it really real, son? (Motherfucker, I'll fuckin')\n  start_ms: 141210\n  end_ms: 143420\n- text: Let me know it's real, son, if it's really real\n  start_ms: 143420\n  end_ms: 145590\n- text: Something I could feel, son, load it up and kill one\n  start_ms: 145590\n  end_ms: 147920\n- text: Want it raw deal, son, if it's really real\n  start_ms: 147920\n  end_ms: 150520\n- text: I'll fuckin', I'll fuckin' cut your kneecaps off\n  start_ms: 150520\n  end_ms: 154910\n- text: And make you kneel at some staircase, piss\n  start_ms: 154910\n  end_ms: 158430\n- text: I'll fuckin' cut your eyelids off and feed you nothin' but sleepin' pills\n  start_ms: 158430\n  end_ms: 174350\n- text: Get yours, motherfucker\n  start_ms: 174350\n  end_ms: 181110\n- text: So fuck the ho, fuck the ho\n  start_ms: 181110\n  end_ms: 185030\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 185030\nplain: |-\n  Basically\n  Can't fuck with me\n\n  I came to bring the pain hardcore from the brain\n  Let's go inside my astral plane\n  Find out my mental, based on instrumental\n  Records, hey, so I can write monumental\n  Methods, I'm not the king\n  But niggas is decaf, I stick 'em for the cream\n  Check it, just how deep can shit get\n  Deep as the abyss and brothers is mad, fish accept it\n\n  In your Cross Colour clothes, you've crossed over\n  Then got Totally Krossed Out and Kris Krossed\n  Who the boss? Niggas get tossed to the side\n  And I'm the dark side of the Force\n  Of course it's the Method, Man from the Wu-Tang Clan\n  I be hectic, and comin' for the head piece, protect it\n  Fuck it, two tears in a bucket\n  Niggas want the ruckus\n  Bustin' at me, bruh, now bust it\n\n  Styles, I gets buckwild\n  Method Man on some shit, pullin' niggas files, I'm sick\n  Insane, crazy, driving Miss Daisy\n  Out her fucking mind, now I got mine, I'm Swayze\n\n  Is it real, son, is it really real, son?\n  Let me know it's real, son, if it's really real\n  Something I could feel, son, load it up and kill one\n  Want it raw deal, son, if it's really real, yeah, uh\n\n  When I was a likle stereo (stereo)\n  I listen to some Champion (Champion)\n  I always wondered (wondered)\n  When I will be di number one (Tical)\n  And now yuh listen to di Gorgon (Gorgon)\n  And a Gorgon sound a Rein\n  An' any jump and come tes' mi (test me)\n  Mi a-go lick out dem brain (it's like that)\n\n  Brothers wanna hang with the Meth, bring the rope\n  The only way you'll hang is by the neck\n  Nigga, bolt off the set, comin' to your projects\n  Take it as a threat, better yet it's a promise\n  Comin' from a vet on some old Vietnam shit\n  Nigga, you can bet your bottom dollar, hey, I bomb shit\n  And it's gonna get even worse, word to God\n  It's the Wu comin' through, stickin' niggas for they garments\n\n  Movin' on your left, southpaw, Mr. Meth\n  Came to represent and carve my name in your chest\n  You can come test, realize you're no contest\n  Son, I'm the gun that won that old Wild West\n  Quick on the draw with my hands on the four-\n  Nine-three-eleven with the rugged rhymes galore\n  Check it, 'cause I think not when this hip-hops like proper\n  Rhymes be the proof while I'm drinkin' 90 proof\n\n  Huh, vodka, no OJ, no straw\n  When you give it to me, ayy, give it to me raw\n  I've learned that when you drink Absolut straight it burns\n  Enough to give my chest hairs a perm\n  I don't need a chemical blow to pull a ho\n  All I need is Chemical Bank to pay the roll\n\n  What, basically that, Meth-Tical, '94 style\n  (Northern spicy brown mustard hoes, word up, we be hazardous)\n  We have to stick you\n\n  Is it real, son, is it really real, son? (Motherfucker, I'll fuckin')\n  Let me know it's real, son, if it's really real\n  Something I could feel, son, load it up and kill one\n  Want it raw deal, son, if it's really real\n\n  I'll fuckin', I'll fuckin' cut your kneecaps off\n  And make you kneel at some staircase, piss\n  I'll fuckin' cut your eyelids off and feed you nothin' but sleepin' pills\n  Get yours, motherfucker\n  So fuck the ho, fuck the ho\n"},{"id":16949735,"name":"03 - Bring The Pain - Method Man","trackName":"03 - Bring The Pain - Method Man","artistName":"Method Man","albumName":"Tical","duration":189.918187,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Basically\nCan't fuck with me\n\nI came to bring the pain hardcore from the brain\nLet's go inside my astral plane\nFind out my mental, based on instrumental\nRecords, hey, so I can write monumental\nMethods, I'm not the king\nBut niggas is decaf, I stick 'em for the cream\nCheck it, just how deep can shit get\nDeep as the abyss and brothers is mad, fish accept it\n\nIn your Cross Colour clothes, you've crossed over\nThen got Totally Krossed Out and Kris Krossed\nWho the boss? Niggas get tossed to the side\nAnd I'm the dark side of the Force\nOf course it's the Method, Man from the Wu-Tang Clan\nI be hectic, and comin' for the head piece, protect it\nFuck it, two tears in a bucket\nNiggas want the ruckus\nBustin' at me, bruh, now bust it\n\nStyles, I gets buckwild\nMethod Man on some shit, pullin' niggas files, I'm sick\nInsane, crazy, driving Miss Daisy\nOut her fucking mind, now I got mine, I'm Swayze\n\nIs it real, son, is it really real, son?\nLet me know it's real, son, if it's really real\nSomething I could feel, son, load it up and kill one\nWant it raw deal, son, if it's really real, yeah, uh\n\nWhen I was a likle stereo (stereo)\nI listen to some Champion (Champion)\nI always wondered (wondered)\nWhen I will be di number one (Tical)\nAnd now yuh listen to di Gorgon (Gorgon)\nAnd a Gorgon sound a Rein\nAn' any jump and come tes' mi (test me)\nMi a-go lick out dem brain (it's like that)\n\nBrothers wanna hang with the Meth, bring the rope\nThe only way you'll hang is by the neck\nNigga, bolt off the set, comin' to your projects\nTake it as a threat, better yet it's a promise\nComin' from a vet on some old Vietnam shit\nNigga, you can bet your bottom dollar, hey, I bomb shit\nAnd it's gonna get even worse, word to God\nIt's the Wu comin' through, stickin' niggas for they garments\n\nMovin' on your left, southpaw, Mr. Meth\nCame to represent and carve my name in your chest\nYou can come test, realize you're no contest\nSon, I'm the gun that won that old Wild West\nQuick on the draw with my hands on the four-\nNine-three-eleven with the rugged rhymes galore\nCheck it, 'cause I think not when this hip-hops like proper\nRhymes be the proof while I'm drinkin' 90 proof\n\nHuh, vodka, no OJ, no straw\nWhen you give it to me, ayy, give it to me raw\nI've learned that when you drink Absolut straight it burns\nEnough to give my chest hairs a perm\nI don't need a chemical blow to pull a ho\nAll I need is Chemical Bank to pay the roll\n\nWhat, basically that, Meth-Tical, '94 style\n(Northern spicy brown mustard hoes, word up, we be hazardous)\nWe have to stick you\n\nIs it real, son, is it really real, son? (Motherfucker, I'll fuckin')\nLet me know it's real, son, if it's really real\nSomething I could feel, son, load it up and kill one\nWant it raw deal, son, if it's really real\n\nI'll fuckin', I'll fuckin' cut your kneecaps off\nAnd make you kneel at some staircase, piss\nI'll fuckin' cut your eyelids off and feed you nothin' but sleepin' pills\nGet yours, motherfucker\nSo fuck the ho, fuck the ho","syncedLyrics":"[00:00.20] Basically\n[00:02.67] Can't fuck with me\n[00:04.69] I came to bring the pain hardcore from the brain\n[00:07.78] Let's go inside my astral plane\n[00:09.53] Find out my mental, based on instrumental\n[00:11.73] Records, hey, so I can write monumental\n[00:14.18] Methods, I'm not the king\n[00:15.87] But niggas is decaf, I stick 'em for the cream\n[00:18.24] Check it, just how deep can shit get\n[00:20.67] Deep as the abyss and brothers is mad, fish accept it\n[00:23.61] In your Cross Colour clothes, you've crossed over\n[00:25.96] Then got Totally Krossed Out and Kris Krossed\n[00:28.39] Who the boss? Niggas get tossed to the side\n[00:30.66] And I'm the dark side of the Force\n[00:32.45] Of course it's the Method, Man from the Wu-Tang Clan\n[00:35.24] I be hectic, and comin' for the head piece, protect it\n[00:37.74] Fuck it, two tears in a bucket\n[00:39.41] Niggas want the ruckus\n[00:40.68] Bustin' at me, bruh, now bust it\n[00:42.44] Styles, I gets buckwild\n[00:44.09] Method Man on some shit, pullin' niggas files, I'm sick\n[00:47.13] Insane, crazy, driving Miss Daisy\n[00:49.59] Out her fucking mind, now I got mine, I'm Swayze\n[00:51.62] Is it real, son, is it really real, son?\n[00:53.77] Let me know it's real, son, if it's really real\n[00:56.25] Something I could feel, son, load it up and kill one\n[00:58.36] Want it raw deal, son, if it's really real, yeah, uh\n[01:01.53] When I was a likle stereo (stereo)\n[01:03.65] I listen to some Champion (Champion)\n[01:06.04] I always wondered (wondered)\n[01:08.42] When I will be di number one (Tical)\n[01:10.75] And now yuh listen to di Gorgon (Gorgon)\n[01:13.20] And a Gorgon sound a Rein\n[01:15.60] An' any jump and come tes' mi (test me)\n[01:17.82] Mi a-go lick out dem brain (it's like that)\n[01:20.02] Brothers wanna hang with the Meth, bring the rope\n[01:22.44] The only way you'll hang is by the neck\n[01:24.19] Nigga, bolt off the set, comin' to your projects\n[01:26.79] Take it as a threat, better yet it's a promise\n[01:29.08] Comin' from a vet on some old Vietnam shit\n[01:31.46] Nigga, you can bet your bottom dollar, hey, I bomb shit\n[01:33.70] And it's gonna get even worse, word to God\n[01:35.93] It's the Wu comin' through, stickin' niggas for they garments\n[01:38.44] Movin' on your left, southpaw, Mr. Meth\n[01:40.76] Came to represent and carve my name in your chest\n[01:43.10] You can come test, realize you're no contest\n[01:45.68] Son, I'm the gun that won that old Wild West\n[01:47.81] Quick on the draw with my hands on the four-\n[01:50.19] Nine-three-eleven with the rugged rhymes galore\n[01:52.56] Check it, 'cause I think not when this hip-hops like proper\n[01:55.45] Rhymes be the proof while I'm drinkin' 90 proof\n[01:57.70] Huh, vodka, no OJ, no straw\n[02:00.29] When you give it to me, ayy, give it to me raw\n[02:02.53] I've learned that when you drink Absolut straight it burns\n[02:05.41] Enough to give my chest hairs a perm\n[02:07.36] I don't need a chemical blow to pull a ho\n[02:09.70] All I need is Chemical Bank to pay the roll\n[02:12.47] What, basically that, Meth-Tical, '94 style\n[02:16.50] (Northern spicy brown mustard hoes, word up, we be hazardous)\n[02:18.75] We have to stick you\n[02:21.21] Is it real, son, is it really real, son? (Motherfucker, I'll fuckin')\n[02:23.42] Let me know it's real, son, if it's really real\n[02:25.59] Something I could feel, son, load it up and kill one\n[02:27.92] Want it raw deal, son, if it's really real\n[02:30.52] I'll fuckin', I'll fuckin' cut your kneecaps off\n[02:34.91] And make you kneel at some staircase, piss\n[02:38.43] I'll fuckin' cut your eyelids off and feed you nothin' but sleepin' pills\n[02:54.35] Get yours, motherfucker\n[03:01.11] So fuck the ho, fuck the ho\n[03:05.03] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: 03 - Bring The Pain - Method Man\n  artist: Method Man\n  album: Tical\n  duration_ms: 189918\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Basically\n  start_ms: 200\n  end_ms: 2670\n- text: Can't fuck with me\n  start_ms: 2670\n  end_ms: 4690\n- text: I came to bring the pain hardcore from the brain\n  start_ms: 4690\n  end_ms: 7780\n- text: Let's go inside my astral plane\n  start_ms: 7780\n  end_ms: 9530\n- text: Find out my mental, based on instrumental\n  start_ms: 9530\n  end_ms: 11730\n- text: Records, hey, so I can write monumental\n  start_ms: 11730\n  end_ms: 14180\n- text: Methods, I'm not the king\n  start_ms: 14180\n  end_ms: 15870\n- text: But niggas is decaf, I stick 'em for the cream\n  start_ms: 15870\n  end_ms: 18240\n- text: Check it, just how deep can shit get\n  start_ms: 18240\n  end_ms: 20670\n- text: Deep as the abyss and brothers is mad, fish accept it\n  start_ms: 20670\n  end_ms: 23610\n- text: In your Cross Colour clothes, you've crossed over\n  start_ms: 23610\n  end_ms: 25960\n- text: Then got Totally Krossed Out and Kris Krossed\n  start_ms: 25960\n  end_ms: 28390\n- text: Who the boss? Niggas get tossed to the side\n  start_ms: 28390\n  end_ms: 30660\n- text: And I'm the dark side of the Force\n  start_ms: 30660\n  end_ms: 32450\n- text: Of course it's the Method, Man from the Wu-Tang Clan\n  start_ms: 32450\n  end_ms: 35240\n- text: I be hectic, and comin' for the head piece, protect it\n  start_ms: 35240\n  end_ms: 37740\n- text: Fuck it, two tears in a bucket\n  start_ms: 37740\n  end_ms: 39410\n- text: Niggas want the ruckus\n  start_ms: 39410\n  end_ms: 40680\n- text: Bustin' at me, bruh, now bust it\n  start_ms: 40680\n  end_ms: 42440\n- text: Styles, I gets buckwild\n  start_ms: 42440\n  end_ms: 44090\n- text: Method Man on some shit, pullin' niggas files, I'm sick\n  start_ms: 44090\n  end_ms: 47130\n- text: Insane, crazy, driving Miss Daisy\n  start_ms: 47130\n  end_ms: 49590\n- text: Out her fucking mind, now I got mine, I'm Swayze\n  start_ms: 49590\n  end_ms: 51620\n- text: Is it real, son, is it really real, son?\n  start_ms: 51620\n  end_ms: 53770\n- text: Let me know it's real, son, if it's really real\n  start_ms: 53770\n  end_ms: 56250\n- text: Something I could feel, son, load it up and kill one\n  start_ms: 56250\n  end_ms: 58360\n- text: Want it raw deal, son, if it's really real, yeah, uh\n  start_ms: 58360\n  end_ms: 61530\n- text: When I was a likle stereo (stereo)\n  start_ms: 61530\n  end_ms: 63650\n- text: I listen to some Champion (Champion)\n  start_ms: 63650\n  end_ms: 66040\n- text: I always wondered (wondered)\n  start_ms: 66040\n  end_ms: 68420\n- text: When I will be di number one (Tical)\n  start_ms: 68420\n  end_ms: 70750\n- text: And now yuh listen to di Gorgon (Gorgon)\n  start_ms: 70750\n  end_ms: 73200\n- text: And a Gorgon sound a Rein\n  start_ms: 73200\n  end_ms: 75600\n- text: An' any jump and come tes' mi (test me)\n  start_ms: 75600\n  end_ms: 77820\n- text: Mi a-go lick out dem brain (it's like that)\n  start_ms: 77820\n  end_ms: 80020\n- text: Brothers wanna hang with the Meth, bring the rope\n  start_ms: 80020\n  end_ms: 82440\n- text: The only way you'll hang is by the neck\n  start_ms: 82440\n  end_ms: 84190\n- text: Nigga, bolt off the set, comin' to your projects\n  start_ms: 84190\n  end_ms: 86790\n- text: Take it as a threat, better yet it's a promise\n  start_ms: 86790\n  end_ms: 89080\n- text: Comin' from a vet on some old Vietnam shit\n  start_ms: 89080\n  end_ms: 91460\n- text: Nigga, you can bet your bottom dollar, hey, I bomb shit\n  start_ms: 91460\n  end_ms: 93700\n- text: And it's gonna get even worse, word to God\n  start_ms: 93700\n  end_ms: 95930\n- text: It's the Wu comin' through, stickin' niggas for they garments\n  start_ms: 95930\n  end_ms: 98440\n- text: Movin' on your left, southpaw, Mr. Meth\n  start_ms: 98440\n  end_ms: 100760\n- text: Came to represent and carve my name in your chest\n  start_ms: 100760\n  end_ms: 103100\n- text: You can come test, realize you're no contest\n  start_ms: 103100\n  end_ms: 105680\n- text: Son, I'm the gun that won that old Wild West\n  start_ms: 105680\n  end_ms: 107810\n- text: Quick on the draw with my hands on the four-\n  start_ms: 107810\n  end_ms: 110190\n- text: Nine-three-eleven with the rugged rhymes galore\n  start_ms: 110190\n  end_ms: 112560\n- text: Check it, 'cause I think not when this hip-hops like proper\n  start_ms: 112560\n  end_ms: 115450\n- text: Rhymes be the proof while I'm drinkin' 90 proof\n  start_ms: 115450\n  end_ms: 117700\n- text: Huh, vodka, no OJ, no straw\n  start_ms: 117700\n  end_ms: 120290\n- text: When you give it to me, ayy, give it to me raw\n  start_ms: 120290\n  end_ms: 122530\n- text: I've learned that when you drink Absolut straight it burns\n  start_ms: 122530\n  end_ms: 125410\n- text: Enough to give my chest hairs a perm\n  start_ms: 125410\n  end_ms: 127360\n- text: I don't need a chemical blow to pull a ho\n  start_ms: 127360\n  end_ms: 129700\n- text: All I need is Chemical Bank to pay the roll\n  start_ms: 129700\n  end_ms: 132470\n- text: What, basically that, Meth-Tical, '94 style\n  start_ms: 132470\n  end_ms: 136500\n- text: (Northern spicy brown mustard hoes, word up, we be hazardous)\n  start_ms: 136500\n  end_ms: 138750\n- text: We have to stick you\n  start_ms: 138750\n  end_ms: 141210\n- text: Is it real, son, is it really real, son? (Motherfucker, I'll fuckin')\n  start_ms: 141210\n  end_ms: 143420\n- text: Let me know it's real, son, if it's really real\n  start_ms: 143420\n  end_ms: 145590\n- text: Something I could feel, son, load it up and kill one\n  start_ms: 145590\n  end_ms: 147920\n- text: Want it raw deal, son, if it's really real\n  start_ms: 147920\n  end_ms: 150520\n- text: I'll fuckin', I'll fuckin' cut your kneecaps off\n  start_ms: 150520\n  end_ms: 154910\n- text: And make you kneel at some staircase, piss\n  start_ms: 154910\n  end_ms: 158430\n- text: I'll fuckin' cut your eyelids off and feed you nothin' but sleepin' pills\n  start_ms: 158430\n  end_ms: 174350\n- text: Get yours, motherfucker\n  start_ms: 174350\n  end_ms: 181110\n- text: So fuck the ho, fuck the ho\n  start_ms: 181110\n  end_ms: 185030\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 185030\nplain: |-\n  Basically\n  Can't fuck with me\n\n  I came to bring the pain hardcore from the brain\n  Let's go inside my astral plane\n  Find out my mental, based on instrumental\n  Records, hey, so I can write monumental\n  Methods, I'm not the king\n  But niggas is decaf, I stick 'em for the cream\n  Check it, just how deep can shit get\n  Deep as the abyss and brothers is mad, fish accept it\n\n  In your Cross Colour clothes, you've crossed over\n  Then got Totally Krossed Out and Kris Krossed\n  Who the boss? Niggas get tossed to the side\n  And I'm the dark side of the Force\n  Of course it's the Method, Man from the Wu-Tang Clan\n  I be hectic, and comin' for the head piece, protect it\n  Fuck it, two tears in a bucket\n  Niggas want the ruckus\n  Bustin' at me, bruh, now bust it\n\n  Styles, I gets buckwild\n  Method Man on some shit, pullin' niggas files, I'm sick\n  Insane, crazy, driving Miss Daisy\n  Out her fucking mind, now I got mine, I'm Swayze\n\n  Is it real, son, is it really real, son?\n  Let me know it's real, son, if it's really real\n  Something I could feel, son, load it up and kill one\n  Want it raw deal, son, if it's really real, yeah, uh\n\n  When I was a likle stereo (stereo)\n  I listen to some Champion (Champion)\n  I always wondered (wondered)\n  When I will be di number one (Tical)\n  And now yuh listen to di Gorgon (Gorgon)\n  And a Gorgon sound a Rein\n  An' any jump and come tes' mi (test me)\n  Mi a-go lick out dem brain (it's like that)\n\n  Brothers wanna hang with the Meth, bring the rope\n  The only way you'll hang is by the neck\n  Nigga, bolt off the set, comin' to your projects\n  Take it as a threat, better yet it's a promise\n  Comin' from a vet on some old Vietnam shit\n  Nigga, you can bet your bottom dollar, hey, I bomb shit\n  And it's gonna get even worse, word to God\n  It's the Wu comin' through, stickin' niggas for they garments\n\n  Movin' on your left, southpaw, Mr. Meth\n  Came to represent and carve my name in your chest\n  You can come test, realize you're no contest\n  Son, I'm the gun that won that old Wild West\n  Quick on the draw with my hands on the four-\n  Nine-three-eleven with the rugged rhymes galore\n  Check it, 'cause I think not when this hip-hops like proper\n  Rhymes be the proof while I'm drinkin' 90 proof\n\n  Huh, vodka, no OJ, no straw\n  When you give it to me, ayy, give it to me raw\n  I've learned that when you drink Absolut straight it burns\n  Enough to give my chest hairs a perm\n  I don't need a chemical blow to pull a ho\n  All I need is Chemical Bank to pay the roll\n\n  What, basically that, Meth-Tical, '94 style\n  (Northern spicy brown mustard hoes, word up, we be hazardous)\n  We have to stick you\n\n  Is it real, son, is it really real, son? (Motherfucker, I'll fuckin')\n  Let me know it's real, son, if it's really real\n  Something I could feel, son, load it up and kill one\n  Want it raw deal, son, if it's really real\n\n  I'll fuckin', I'll fuckin' cut your kneecaps off\n  And make you kneel at some staircase, piss\n  I'll fuckin' cut your eyelids off and feed you nothin' but sleepin' pills\n  Get yours, motherfucker\n  So fuck the ho, fuck the ho\n"},{"id":26458070,"name":"Bring the Pain","trackName":"Bring the Pain","artistName":"Method Man","albumName":"Def Jam 25, Vol. 2: DJ Bring That Back (1996-1984)","duration":189.056871,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Basically\nCan't fuck with me\n\nI came to bring the pain hardcore from the brain\nLet's go inside my astral plane\nFind out my mental, based on instrumental\nRecords, hey, so I can write monumental\nMethods, I'm not the king\nBut niggas is decaf, I stick 'em for the cream\nCheck it, just how deep can shit get\nDeep as the abyss and brothers is mad, fish accept it\n\nIn your Cross Colour clothes, you've crossed over\nThen got Totally Krossed Out and Kris Krossed\nWho the boss? Niggas get tossed to the side\nAnd I'm the dark side of the Force\nOf course it's the Method, Man from the Wu-Tang Clan\nI be hectic, and comin' for the head piece, protect it\nFuck it, two tears in a bucket\nNiggas want the ruckus\nBustin' at me, bruh, now bust it\n\nStyles, I gets buckwild\nMethod Man on some shit, pullin' niggas files, I'm sick\nInsane, crazy, driving Miss Daisy\nOut her fucking mind, now I got mine, I'm Swayze\n\nIs it real, son, is it really real, son?\nLet me know it's real, son, if it's really real\nSomething I could feel, son, load it up and kill one\nWant it raw deal, son, if it's really real, yeah, uh\n\nWhen I was a likle stereo (stereo)\nI listen to some Champion (Champion)\nI always wondered (wondered)\nWhen I will be di number one (Tical)\nAnd now yuh listen to di Gorgon (Gorgon)\nAnd a Gorgon sound a Rein\nAn' any jump and come tes' mi (test me)\nMi a-go lick out dem brain (it's like that)\n\nBrothers wanna hang with the Meth, bring the rope\nThe only way you'll hang is by the neck\nNigga, bolt off the set, comin' to your projects\nTake it as a threat, better yet it's a promise\nComin' from a vet on some old Vietnam shit\nNigga, you can bet your bottom dollar, hey, I bomb shit\nAnd it's gonna get even worse, word to God\nIt's the Wu comin' through, stickin' niggas for they garments\n\nMovin' on your left, southpaw, Mr. Meth\nCame to represent and carve my name in your chest\nYou can come test, realize you're no contest\nSon, I'm the gun that won that old Wild West\nQuick on the draw with my hands on the four-\nNine-three-eleven with the rugged rhymes galore\nCheck it, 'cause I think not when this hip-hops like proper\nRhymes be the proof while I'm drinkin' 90 proof\n\nHuh, vodka, no OJ, no straw\nWhen you give it to me, ayy, give it to me raw\nI've learned that when you drink Absolut straight it burns\nEnough to give my chest hairs a perm\nI don't need a chemical blow to pull a ho\nAll I need is Chemical Bank to pay the roll\n\nWhat, basically that, Meth-Tical, '94 style\n(Northern spicy brown mustard hoes, word up, we be hazardous)\nWe have to stick you\n\nIs it real, son, is it really real, son? (Motherfucker, I'll fuckin')\nLet me know it's real, son, if it's really real\nSomething I could feel, son, load it up and kill one\nWant it raw deal, son, if it's really real\n\nI'll fuckin', I'll fuckin' cut your kneecaps off\nAnd make you kneel at some staircase, piss\nI'll fuckin' cut your eyelids off and feed you nothin' but sleepin' pills\nGet yours, motherfucker\nSo fuck the ho, fuck the ho","syncedLyrics":"[00:00.19] Basically\n[00:02.61] Can't fuck with me\n[00:04.66] I came to bring the pain hardcore from the brain\n[00:07.76] Let's go inside my astral plane\n[00:09.56] Find out my mental, based on instrumental\n[00:11.76] Records, hey, so I can write monumental\n[00:14.19] Methods, I'm not the king\n[00:15.82] But niggas is decaf, I stick 'em for the cream\n[00:18.22] Check it, just how deep can shit get\n[00:20.64] Deep as the abyss and brothers is mad, fish accept it\n[00:23.68] In your Cross Colour clothes, you've crossed over\n[00:25.93] Then got Totally Krossed Out and Kris Krossed\n[00:28.31] Who the boss? Niggas get tossed to the side\n[00:30.62] And I'm the dark side of the Force\n[00:32.43] Of course it's the Method, Man from the Wu-Tang Clan\n[00:35.29] I be hectic, and comin' for the head piece, protect it\n[00:37.77] Fuck it, two tears in a bucket\n[00:39.46] Niggas want the ruckus\n[00:40.69] Bustin' at me, bruh, now bust it\n[00:42.43] Styles, I gets buckwild\n[00:44.07] Method Man on some shit, pullin' niggas files, I'm sick\n[00:47.16] Insane, crazy, driving Miss Daisy\n[00:49.56] Out her fucking mind, now I got mine, I'm Swayze\n[00:51.64] Is it real, son, is it really real, son?\n[00:53.76] Let me know it's real, son, if it's really real\n[00:56.24] Something I could feel, son, load it up and kill one\n[00:58.30] Want it raw deal, son, if it's really real, yeah, uh\n[01:01.57] When I was a likle stereo (stereo)\n[01:03.67] I listen to some Champion (Champion)\n[01:06.02] I always wondered (wondered)\n[01:08.48] When I will be di number one (Tical)\n[01:10.76] And now yuh listen to di Gorgon (Gorgon)\n[01:13.21] And a Gorgon sound a Rein\n[01:15.63] An' any jump and come tes' mi (test me)\n[01:17.82] Mi a-go lick out dem brain (it's like that)\n[01:20.07] Brothers wanna hang with the Meth, bring the rope\n[01:22.50] The only way you'll hang is by the neck\n[01:24.19] Nigga, bolt off the set, comin' to your projects\n[01:26.80] Take it as a threat, better yet it's a promise\n[01:29.03] Comin' from a vet on some old Vietnam shit\n[01:31.44] Nigga, you can bet your bottom dollar, hey, I bomb shit\n[01:33.78] And it's gonna get even worse, word to God\n[01:35.95] It's the Wu comin' through, stickin' niggas for they garments\n[01:38.44] Movin' on your left, southpaw, Mr. Meth\n[01:40.70] Came to represent and carve my name in your chest\n[01:43.10] You can come test, realize you're no contest\n[01:45.62] Son, I'm the gun that won that old Wild West\n[01:47.89] Quick on the draw with my hands on the four-\n[01:50.15] Nine-three-eleven with the rugged rhymes galore\n[01:52.52] Check it, 'cause I think not when this hip-hops like proper\n[01:55.42] Rhymes be the proof while I'm drinkin' 90 proof\n[01:57.63] Huh, vodka, no OJ, no straw\n[02:00.29] When you give it to me, ayy, give it to me raw\n[02:02.57] I've learned that when you drink Absolut straight it burns\n[02:05.46] Enough to give my chest hairs a perm\n[02:07.34] I don't need a chemical blow to pull a ho\n[02:09.62] All I need is Chemical Bank to pay the roll\n[02:12.46] What, basically that, Meth-Tical, '94 style\n[02:16.41] (Northern spicy brown mustard hoes, word up, we be hazardous)\n[02:18.79] We have to stick you\n[02:21.26] Is it real, son, is it really real, son? (Motherfucker, I'll fuckin')\n[02:23.49] Let me know it's real, son, if it's really real\n[02:25.54] Something I could feel, son, load it up and kill one\n[02:27.99] Want it raw deal, son, if it's really real\n[02:30.52] I'll fuckin', I'll fuckin' cut your kneecaps off\n[02:34.96] And make you kneel at some staircase, piss\n[02:38.46] I'll fuckin' cut your eyelids off and feed you nothin' but sleepin' pills\n[02:54.31] Get yours, motherfucker\n[03:01.16] So fuck the ho, fuck the ho\n[03:05.06] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Bring the Pain\n  artist: Method Man\n  album: 'Def Jam 25, Vol. 2: DJ Bring That Back (1996-1984)'\n  duration_ms: 189057\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Basically\n  start_ms: 190\n  end_ms: 2610\n- text: Can't fuck with me\n  start_ms: 2610\n  end_ms: 4660\n- text: I came to bring the pain hardcore from the brain\n  start_ms: 4660\n  end_ms: 7760\n- text: Let's go inside my astral plane\n  start_ms: 7760\n  end_ms: 9560\n- text: Find out my mental, based on instrumental\n  start_ms: 9560\n  end_ms: 11760\n- text: Records, hey, so I can write monumental\n  start_ms: 11760\n  end_ms: 14190\n- text: Methods, I'm not the king\n  start_ms: 14190\n  end_ms: 15820\n- text: But niggas is decaf, I stick 'em for the cream\n  start_ms: 15820\n  end_ms: 18220\n- text: Check it, just how deep can shit get\n  start_ms: 18220\n  end_ms: 20640\n- text: Deep as the abyss and brothers is mad, fish accept it\n  start_ms: 20640\n  end_ms: 23680\n- text: In your Cross Colour clothes, you've crossed over\n  start_ms: 23680\n  end_ms: 25930\n- text: Then got Totally Krossed Out and Kris Krossed\n  start_ms: 25930\n  end_ms: 28310\n- text: Who the boss? Niggas get tossed to the side\n  start_ms: 28310\n  end_ms: 30620\n- text: And I'm the dark side of the Force\n  start_ms: 30620\n  end_ms: 32430\n- text: Of course it's the Method, Man from the Wu-Tang Clan\n  start_ms: 32430\n  end_ms: 35290\n- text: I be hectic, and comin' for the head piece, protect it\n  start_ms: 35290\n  end_ms: 37770\n- text: Fuck it, two tears in a bucket\n  start_ms: 37770\n  end_ms: 39460\n- text: Niggas want the ruckus\n  start_ms: 39460\n  end_ms: 40690\n- text: Bustin' at me, bruh, now bust it\n  start_ms: 40690\n  end_ms: 42430\n- text: Styles, I gets buckwild\n  start_ms: 42430\n  end_ms: 44070\n- text: Method Man on some shit, pullin' niggas files, I'm sick\n  start_ms: 44070\n  end_ms: 47160\n- text: Insane, crazy, driving Miss Daisy\n  start_ms: 47160\n  end_ms: 49560\n- text: Out her fucking mind, now I got mine, I'm Swayze\n  start_ms: 49560\n  end_ms: 51640\n- text: Is it real, son, is it really real, son?\n  start_ms: 51640\n  end_ms: 53760\n- text: Let me know it's real, son, if it's really real\n  start_ms: 53760\n  end_ms: 56240\n- text: Something I could feel, son, load it up and kill one\n  start_ms: 56240\n  end_ms: 58300\n- text: Want it raw deal, son, if it's really real, yeah, uh\n  start_ms: 58300\n  end_ms: 61570\n- text: When I was a likle stereo (stereo)\n  start_ms: 61570\n  end_ms: 63670\n- text: I listen to some Champion (Champion)\n  start_ms: 63670\n  end_ms: 66020\n- text: I always wondered (wondered)\n  start_ms: 66020\n  end_ms: 68480\n- text: When I will be di number one (Tical)\n  start_ms: 68480\n  end_ms: 70760\n- text: And now yuh listen to di Gorgon (Gorgon)\n  start_ms: 70760\n  end_ms: 73210\n- text: And a Gorgon sound a Rein\n  start_ms: 73210\n  end_ms: 75630\n- text: An' any jump and come tes' mi (test me)\n  start_ms: 75630\n  end_ms: 77820\n- text: Mi a-go lick out dem brain (it's like that)\n  start_ms: 77820\n  end_ms: 80070\n- text: Brothers wanna hang with the Meth, bring the rope\n  start_ms: 80070\n  end_ms: 82500\n- text: The only way you'll hang is by the neck\n  start_ms: 82500\n  end_ms: 84190\n- text: Nigga, bolt off the set, comin' to your projects\n  start_ms: 84190\n  end_ms: 86800\n- text: Take it as a threat, better yet it's a promise\n  start_ms: 86800\n  end_ms: 89030\n- text: Comin' from a vet on some old Vietnam shit\n  start_ms: 89030\n  end_ms: 91440\n- text: Nigga, you can bet your bottom dollar, hey, I bomb shit\n  start_ms: 91440\n  end_ms: 93780\n- text: And it's gonna get even worse, word to God\n  start_ms: 93780\n  end_ms: 95950\n- text: It's the Wu comin' through, stickin' niggas for they garments\n  start_ms: 95950\n  end_ms: 98440\n- text: Movin' on your left, southpaw, Mr. Meth\n  start_ms: 98440\n  end_ms: 100700\n- text: Came to represent and carve my name in your chest\n  start_ms: 100700\n  end_ms: 103100\n- text: You can come test, realize you're no contest\n  start_ms: 103100\n  end_ms: 105620\n- text: Son, I'm the gun that won that old Wild West\n  start_ms: 105620\n  end_ms: 107890\n- text: Quick on the draw with my hands on the four-\n  start_ms: 107890\n  end_ms: 110150\n- text: Nine-three-eleven with the rugged rhymes galore\n  start_ms: 110150\n  end_ms: 112520\n- text: Check it, 'cause I think not when this hip-hops like proper\n  start_ms: 112520\n  end_ms: 115420\n- text: Rhymes be the proof while I'm drinkin' 90 proof\n  start_ms: 115420\n  end_ms: 117630\n- text: Huh, vodka, no OJ, no straw\n  start_ms: 117630\n  end_ms: 120290\n- text: When you give it to me, ayy, give it to me raw\n  start_ms: 120290\n  end_ms: 122570\n- text: I've learned that when you drink Absolut straight it burns\n  start_ms: 122570\n  end_ms: 125460\n- text: Enough to give my chest hairs a perm\n  start_ms: 125460\n  end_ms: 127340\n- text: I don't need a chemical blow to pull a ho\n  start_ms: 127340\n  end_ms: 129620\n- text: All I need is Chemical Bank to pay the roll\n  start_ms: 129620\n  end_ms: 132460\n- text: What, basically that, Meth-Tical, '94 style\n  start_ms: 132460\n  end_ms: 136410\n- text: (Northern spicy brown mustard hoes, word up, we be hazardous)\n  start_ms: 136410\n  end_ms: 138790\n- text: We have to stick you\n  start_ms: 138790\n  end_ms: 141260\n- text: Is it real, son, is it really real, son? (Motherfucker, I'll fuckin')\n  start_ms: 141260\n  end_ms: 143490\n- text: Let me know it's real, son, if it's really real\n  start_ms: 143490\n  end_ms: 145540\n- text: Something I could feel, son, load it up and kill one\n  start_ms: 145540\n  end_ms: 147990\n- text: Want it raw deal, son, if it's really real\n  start_ms: 147990\n  end_ms: 150520\n- text: I'll fuckin', I'll fuckin' cut your kneecaps off\n  start_ms: 150520\n  end_ms: 154960\n- text: And make you kneel at some staircase, piss\n  start_ms: 154960\n  end_ms: 158460\n- text: I'll fuckin' cut your eyelids off and feed you nothin' but sleepin' pills\n  start_ms: 158460\n  end_ms: 174310\n- text: Get yours, motherfucker\n  start_ms: 174310\n  end_ms: 181160\n- text: So fuck the ho, fuck the ho\n  start_ms: 181160\n  end_ms: 185060\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 185060\nplain: |-\n  Basically\n  Can't fuck with me\n\n  I came to bring the pain hardcore from the brain\n  Let's go inside my astral plane\n  Find out my mental, based on instrumental\n  Records, hey, so I can write monumental\n  Methods, I'm not the king\n  But niggas is decaf, I stick 'em for the cream\n  Check it, just how deep can shit get\n  Deep as the abyss and brothers is mad, fish accept it\n\n  In your Cross Colour clothes, you've crossed over\n  Then got Totally Krossed Out and Kris Krossed\n  Who the boss? Niggas get tossed to the side\n  And I'm the dark side of the Force\n  Of course it's the Method, Man from the Wu-Tang Clan\n  I be hectic, and comin' for the head piece, protect it\n  Fuck it, two tears in a bucket\n  Niggas want the ruckus\n  Bustin' at me, bruh, now bust it\n\n  Styles, I gets buckwild\n  Method Man on some shit, pullin' niggas files, I'm sick\n  Insane, crazy, driving Miss Daisy\n  Out her fucking mind, now I got mine, I'm Swayze\n\n  Is it real, son, is it really real, son?\n  Let me know it's real, son, if it's really real\n  Something I could feel, son, load it up and kill one\n  Want it raw deal, son, if it's really real, yeah, uh\n\n  When I was a likle stereo (stereo)\n  I listen to some Champion (Champion)\n  I always wondered (wondered)\n  When I will be di number one (Tical)\n  And now yuh listen to di Gorgon (Gorgon)\n  And a Gorgon sound a Rein\n  An' any jump and come tes' mi (test me)\n  Mi a-go lick out dem brain (it's like that)\n\n  Brothers wanna hang with the Meth, bring the rope\n  The only way you'll hang is by the neck\n  Nigga, bolt off the set, comin' to your projects\n  Take it as a threat, better yet it's a promise\n  Comin' from a vet on some old Vietnam shit\n  Nigga, you can bet your bottom dollar, hey, I bomb shit\n  And it's gonna get even worse, word to God\n  It's the Wu comin' through, stickin' niggas for they garments\n\n  Movin' on your left, southpaw, Mr. Meth\n  Came to represent and carve my name in your chest\n  You can come test, realize you're no contest\n  Son, I'm the gun that won that old Wild West\n  Quick on the draw with my hands on the four-\n  Nine-three-eleven with the rugged rhymes galore\n  Check it, 'cause I think not when this hip-hops like proper\n  Rhymes be the proof while I'm drinkin' 90 proof\n\n  Huh, vodka, no OJ, no straw\n  When you give it to me, ayy, give it to me raw\n  I've learned that when you drink Absolut straight it burns\n  Enough to give my chest hairs a perm\n  I don't need a chemical blow to pull a ho\n  All I need is Chemical Bank to pay the roll\n\n  What, basically that, Meth-Tical, '94 style\n  (Northern spicy brown mustard hoes, word up, we be hazardous)\n  We have to stick you\n\n  Is it real, son, is it really real, son? (Motherfucker, I'll fuckin')\n  Let me know it's real, son, if it's really real\n  Something I could feel, son, load it up and kill one\n  Want it raw deal, son, if it's really real\n\n  I'll fuckin', I'll fuckin' cut your kneecaps off\n  And make you kneel at some staircase, piss\n  I'll fuckin' cut your eyelids off and feed you nothin' but sleepin' pills\n  Get yours, motherfucker\n  So fuck the ho, fuck the ho\n"},{"id":16932513,"name":"Bring The Pain","trackName":"Bring The Pain","artistName":"Method Man","albumName":"Def Jam 25: Vol. 2 - DJ Bring That Back (1996-1984) [Explicit Version]","duration":189.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Basically\nCan't fuck with me\n\nI came to bring the pain hardcore from the brain\nLet's go inside my astral plane\nFind out my mental, based on instrumental\nRecords, hey, so I can write monumental\nMethods, I'm not the king\nBut niggas is decaf, I stick 'em for the cream\nCheck it, just how deep can shit get\nDeep as the abyss and brothers is mad, fish accept it\n\nIn your Cross Colour clothes, you've crossed over\nThen got Totally Krossed Out and Kris Krossed\nWho the boss? Niggas get tossed to the side\nAnd I'm the dark side of the Force\nOf course it's the Method, Man from the Wu-Tang Clan\nI be hectic, and comin' for the head piece, protect it\nFuck it, two tears in a bucket\nNiggas want the ruckus\nBustin' at me, bruh, now bust it\n\nStyles, I gets buckwild\nMethod Man on some shit, pullin' niggas files, I'm sick\nInsane, crazy, driving Miss Daisy\nOut her fucking mind, now I got mine, I'm Swayze\n\nIs it real, son, is it really real, son?\nLet me know it's real, son, if it's really real\nSomething I could feel, son, load it up and kill one\nWant it raw deal, son, if it's really real, yeah, uh\n\nWhen I was a likle stereo (stereo)\nI listen to some Champion (Champion)\nI always wondered (wondered)\nWhen I will be di number one (Tical)\nAnd now yuh listen to di Gorgon (Gorgon)\nAnd a Gorgon sound a Rein\nAn' any jump and come tes' mi (test me)\nMi a-go lick out dem brain (it's like that)\n\nBrothers wanna hang with the Meth, bring the rope\nThe only way you'll hang is by the neck\nNigga, bolt off the set, comin' to your projects\nTake it as a threat, better yet it's a promise\nComin' from a vet on some old Vietnam shit\nNigga, you can bet your bottom dollar, hey, I bomb shit\nAnd it's gonna get even worse, word to God\nIt's the Wu comin' through, stickin' niggas for they garments\n\nMovin' on your left, southpaw, Mr. Meth\nCame to represent and carve my name in your chest\nYou can come test, realize you're no contest\nSon, I'm the gun that won that old Wild West\nQuick on the draw with my hands on the four-\nNine-three-eleven with the rugged rhymes galore\nCheck it, 'cause I think not when this hip-hops like proper\nRhymes be the proof while I'm drinkin' 90 proof\n\nHuh, vodka, no OJ, no straw\nWhen you give it to me, ayy, give it to me raw\nI've learned that when you drink Absolut straight it burns\nEnough to give my chest hairs a perm\nI don't need a chemical blow to pull a ho\nAll I need is Chemical Bank to pay the roll\n\nWhat, basically that, Meth-Tical, '94 style\n(Northern spicy brown mustard hoes, word up, we be hazardous)\nWe have to stick you\n\nIs it real, son, is it really real, son? (Motherfucker, I'll fuckin')\nLet me know it's real, son, if it's really real\nSomething I could feel, son, load it up and kill one\nWant it raw deal, son, if it's really real\n\nI'll fuckin', I'll fuckin' cut your kneecaps off\nAnd make you kneel at some staircase, piss\nI'll fuckin' cut your eyelids off and feed you nothin' but sleepin' pills\nGet yours, motherfucker\nSo fuck the ho, fuck the ho","syncedLyrics":"[00:00.20] Basically\n[00:02.67] Can't fuck with me\n[00:04.69] I came to bring the pain hardcore from the brain\n[00:07.78] Let's go inside my astral plane\n[00:09.53] Find out my mental, based on instrumental\n[00:11.73] Records, hey, so I can write monumental\n[00:14.18] Methods, I'm not the king\n[00:15.87] But niggas is decaf, I stick 'em for the cream\n[00:18.24] Check it, just how deep can shit get\n[00:20.67] Deep as the abyss and brothers is mad, fish accept it\n[00:23.61] In your Cross Colour clothes, you've crossed over\n[00:25.96] Then got Totally Krossed Out and Kris Krossed\n[00:28.39] Who the boss? Niggas get tossed to the side\n[00:30.66] And I'm the dark side of the Force\n[00:32.45] Of course it's the Method, Man from the Wu-Tang Clan\n[00:35.24] I be hectic, and comin' for the head piece, protect it\n[00:37.74] Fuck it, two tears in a bucket\n[00:39.41] Niggas want the ruckus\n[00:40.68] Bustin' at me, bruh, now bust it\n[00:42.44] Styles, I gets buckwild\n[00:44.09] Method Man on some shit, pullin' niggas files, I'm sick\n[00:47.13] Insane, crazy, driving Miss Daisy\n[00:49.59] Out her fucking mind, now I got mine, I'm Swayze\n[00:51.62] Is it real, son, is it really real, son?\n[00:53.77] Let me know it's real, son, if it's really real\n[00:56.25] Something I could feel, son, load it up and kill one\n[00:58.36] Want it raw deal, son, if it's really real, yeah, uh\n[01:01.53] When I was a likle stereo (stereo)\n[01:03.65] I listen to some Champion (Champion)\n[01:06.04] I always wondered (wondered)\n[01:08.42] When I will be di number one (Tical)\n[01:10.75] And now yuh listen to di Gorgon (Gorgon)\n[01:13.20] And a Gorgon sound a Rein\n[01:15.60] An' any jump and come tes' mi (test me)\n[01:17.82] Mi a-go lick out dem brain (it's like that)\n[01:20.02] Brothers wanna hang with the Meth, bring the rope\n[01:22.44] The only way you'll hang is by the neck\n[01:24.19] Nigga, bolt off the set, comin' to your projects\n[01:26.79] Take it as a threat, better yet it's a promise\n[01:29.08] Comin' from a vet on some old Vietnam shit\n[01:31.46] Nigga, you can bet your bottom dollar, hey, I bomb shit\n[01:33.70] And it's gonna get even worse, word to God\n[01:35.93] It's the Wu comin' through, stickin' niggas for they garments\n[01:38.44] Movin' on your left, southpaw, Mr. Meth\n[01:40.76] Came to represent and carve my name in your chest\n[01:43.10] You can come test, realize you're no contest\n[01:45.68] Son, I'm the gun that won that old Wild West\n[01:47.81] Quick on the draw with my hands on the four-\n[01:50.19] Nine-three-eleven with the rugged rhymes galore\n[01:52.56] Check it, 'cause I think not when this hip-hops like proper\n[01:55.45] Rhymes be the proof while I'm drinkin' 90 proof\n[01:57.70] Huh, vodka, no OJ, no straw\n[02:00.29] When you give it to me, ayy, give it to me raw\n[02:02.53] I've learned that when you drink Absolut straight it burns\n[02:05.41] Enough to give my chest hairs a perm\n[02:07.36] I don't need a chemical blow to pull a ho\n[02:09.70] All I need is Chemical Bank to pay the roll\n[02:12.47] What, basically that, Meth-Tical, '94 style\n[02:16.50] (Northern spicy brown mustard hoes, word up, we be hazardous)\n[02:18.75] We have to stick you\n[02:21.21] Is it real, son, is it really real, son? (Motherfucker, I'll fuckin')\n[02:23.42] Let me know it's real, son, if it's really real\n[02:25.59] Something I could feel, son, load it up and kill one\n[02:27.92] Want it raw deal, son, if it's really real\n[02:30.52] I'll fuckin', I'll fuckin' cut your kneecaps off\n[02:34.91] And make you kneel at some staircase, piss\n[02:38.43] I'll fuckin' cut your eyelids off and feed you nothin' but sleepin' pills\n[02:54.35] Get yours, motherfucker\n[03:01.11] So fuck the ho, fuck the ho\n[03:05.03] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Bring The Pain\n  artist: Method Man\n  album: 'Def Jam 25: Vol. 2 - DJ Bring That Back (1996-1984) [Explicit Version]'\n  duration_ms: 189000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Basically\n  start_ms: 200\n  end_ms: 2670\n- text: Can't fuck with me\n  start_ms: 2670\n  end_ms: 4690\n- text: I came to bring the pain hardcore from the brain\n  start_ms: 4690\n  end_ms: 7780\n- text: Let's go inside my astral plane\n  start_ms: 7780\n  end_ms: 9530\n- text: Find out my mental, based on instrumental\n  start_ms: 9530\n  end_ms: 11730\n- text: Records, hey, so I can write monumental\n  start_ms: 11730\n  end_ms: 14180\n- text: Methods, I'm not the king\n  start_ms: 14180\n  end_ms: 15870\n- text: But niggas is decaf, I stick 'em for the cream\n  start_ms: 15870\n  end_ms: 18240\n- text: Check it, just how deep can shit get\n  start_ms: 18240\n  end_ms: 20670\n- text: Deep as the abyss and brothers is mad, fish accept it\n  start_ms: 20670\n  end_ms: 23610\n- text: In your Cross Colour clothes, you've crossed over\n  start_ms: 23610\n  end_ms: 25960\n- text: Then got Totally Krossed Out and Kris Krossed\n  start_ms: 25960\n  end_ms: 28390\n- text: Who the boss? Niggas get tossed to the side\n  start_ms: 28390\n  end_ms: 30660\n- text: And I'm the dark side of the Force\n  start_ms: 30660\n  end_ms: 32450\n- text: Of course it's the Method, Man from the Wu-Tang Clan\n  start_ms: 32450\n  end_ms: 35240\n- text: I be hectic, and comin' for the head piece, protect it\n  start_ms: 35240\n  end_ms: 37740\n- text: Fuck it, two tears in a bucket\n  start_ms: 37740\n  end_ms: 39410\n- text: Niggas want the ruckus\n  start_ms: 39410\n  end_ms: 40680\n- text: Bustin' at me, bruh, now bust it\n  start_ms: 40680\n  end_ms: 42440\n- text: Styles, I gets buckwild\n  start_ms: 42440\n  end_ms: 44090\n- text: Method Man on some shit, pullin' niggas files, I'm sick\n  start_ms: 44090\n  end_ms: 47130\n- text: Insane, crazy, driving Miss Daisy\n  start_ms: 47130\n  end_ms: 49590\n- text: Out her fucking mind, now I got mine, I'm Swayze\n  start_ms: 49590\n  end_ms: 51620\n- text: Is it real, son, is it really real, son?\n  start_ms: 51620\n  end_ms: 53770\n- text: Let me know it's real, son, if it's really real\n  start_ms: 53770\n  end_ms: 56250\n- text: Something I could feel, son, load it up and kill one\n  start_ms: 56250\n  end_ms: 58360\n- text: Want it raw deal, son, if it's really real, yeah, uh\n  start_ms: 58360\n  end_ms: 61530\n- text: When I was a likle stereo (stereo)\n  start_ms: 61530\n  end_ms: 63650\n- text: I listen to some Champion (Champion)\n  start_ms: 63650\n  end_ms: 66040\n- text: I always wondered (wondered)\n  start_ms: 66040\n  end_ms: 68420\n- text: When I will be di number one (Tical)\n  start_ms: 68420\n  end_ms: 70750\n- text: And now yuh listen to di Gorgon (Gorgon)\n  start_ms: 70750\n  end_ms: 73200\n- text: And a Gorgon sound a Rein\n  start_ms: 73200\n  end_ms: 75600\n- text: An' any jump and come tes' mi (test me)\n  start_ms: 75600\n  end_ms: 77820\n- text: Mi a-go lick out dem brain (it's like that)\n  start_ms: 77820\n  end_ms: 80020\n- text: Brothers wanna hang with the Meth, bring the rope\n  start_ms: 80020\n  end_ms: 82440\n- text: The only way you'll hang is by the neck\n  start_ms: 82440\n  end_ms: 84190\n- text: Nigga, bolt off the set, comin' to your projects\n  start_ms: 84190\n  end_ms: 86790\n- text: Take it as a threat, better yet it's a promise\n  start_ms: 86790\n  end_ms: 89080\n- text: Comin' from a vet on some old Vietnam shit\n  start_ms: 89080\n  end_ms: 91460\n- text: Nigga, you can bet your bottom dollar, hey, I bomb shit\n  start_ms: 91460\n  end_ms: 93700\n- text: And it's gonna get even worse, word to God\n  start_ms: 93700\n  end_ms: 95930\n- text: It's the Wu comin' through, stickin' niggas for they garments\n  start_ms: 95930\n  end_ms: 98440\n- text: Movin' on your left, southpaw, Mr. Meth\n  start_ms: 98440\n  end_ms: 100760\n- text: Came to represent and carve my name in your chest\n  start_ms: 100760\n  end_ms: 103100\n- text: You can come test, realize you're no contest\n  start_ms: 103100\n  end_ms: 105680\n- text: Son, I'm the gun that won that old Wild West\n  start_ms: 105680\n  end_ms: 107810\n- text: Quick on the draw with my hands on the four-\n  start_ms: 107810\n  end_ms: 110190\n- text: Nine-three-eleven with the rugged rhymes galore\n  start_ms: 110190\n  end_ms: 112560\n- text: Check it, 'cause I think not when this hip-hops like proper\n  start_ms: 112560\n  end_ms: 115450\n- text: Rhymes be the proof while I'm drinkin' 90 proof\n  start_ms: 115450\n  end_ms: 117700\n- text: Huh, vodka, no OJ, no straw\n  start_ms: 117700\n  end_ms: 120290\n- text: When you give it to me, ayy, give it to me raw\n  start_ms: 120290\n  end_ms: 122530\n- text: I've learned that when you drink Absolut straight it burns\n  start_ms: 122530\n  end_ms: 125410\n- text: Enough to give my chest hairs a perm\n  start_ms: 125410\n  end_ms: 127360\n- text: I don't need a chemical blow to pull a ho\n  start_ms: 127360\n  end_ms: 129700\n- text: All I need is Chemical Bank to pay the roll\n  start_ms: 129700\n  end_ms: 132470\n- text: What, basically that, Meth-Tical, '94 style\n  start_ms: 132470\n  end_ms: 136500\n- text: (Northern spicy brown mustard hoes, word up, we be hazardous)\n  start_ms: 136500\n  end_ms: 138750\n- text: We have to stick you\n  start_ms: 138750\n  end_ms: 141210\n- text: Is it real, son, is it really real, son? (Motherfucker, I'll fuckin')\n  start_ms: 141210\n  end_ms: 143420\n- text: Let me know it's real, son, if it's really real\n  start_ms: 143420\n  end_ms: 145590\n- text: Something I could feel, son, load it up and kill one\n  start_ms: 145590\n  end_ms: 147920\n- text: Want it raw deal, son, if it's really real\n  start_ms: 147920\n  end_ms: 150520\n- text: I'll fuckin', I'll fuckin' cut your kneecaps off\n  start_ms: 150520\n  end_ms: 154910\n- text: And make you kneel at some staircase, piss\n  start_ms: 154910\n  end_ms: 158430\n- text: I'll fuckin' cut your eyelids off and feed you nothin' but sleepin' pills\n  start_ms: 158430\n  end_ms: 174350\n- text: Get yours, motherfucker\n  start_ms: 174350\n  end_ms: 181110\n- text: So fuck the ho, fuck the ho\n  start_ms: 181110\n  end_ms: 185030\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 185030\nplain: |-\n  Basically\n  Can't fuck with me\n\n  I came to bring the pain hardcore from the brain\n  Let's go inside my astral plane\n  Find out my mental, based on instrumental\n  Records, hey, so I can write monumental\n  Methods, I'm not the king\n  But niggas is decaf, I stick 'em for the cream\n  Check it, just how deep can shit get\n  Deep as the abyss and brothers is mad, fish accept it\n\n  In your Cross Colour clothes, you've crossed over\n  Then got Totally Krossed Out and Kris Krossed\n  Who the boss? Niggas get tossed to the side\n  And I'm the dark side of the Force\n  Of course it's the Method, Man from the Wu-Tang Clan\n  I be hectic, and comin' for the head piece, protect it\n  Fuck it, two tears in a bucket\n  Niggas want the ruckus\n  Bustin' at me, bruh, now bust it\n\n  Styles, I gets buckwild\n  Method Man on some shit, pullin' niggas files, I'm sick\n  Insane, crazy, driving Miss Daisy\n  Out her fucking mind, now I got mine, I'm Swayze\n\n  Is it real, son, is it really real, son?\n  Let me know it's real, son, if it's really real\n  Something I could feel, son, load it up and kill one\n  Want it raw deal, son, if it's really real, yeah, uh\n\n  When I was a likle stereo (stereo)\n  I listen to some Champion (Champion)\n  I always wondered (wondered)\n  When I will be di number one (Tical)\n  And now yuh listen to di Gorgon (Gorgon)\n  And a Gorgon sound a Rein\n  An' any jump and come tes' mi (test me)\n  Mi a-go lick out dem brain (it's like that)\n\n  Brothers wanna hang with the Meth, bring the rope\n  The only way you'll hang is by the neck\n  Nigga, bolt off the set, comin' to your projects\n  Take it as a threat, better yet it's a promise\n  Comin' from a vet on some old Vietnam shit\n  Nigga, you can bet your bottom dollar, hey, I bomb shit\n  And it's gonna get even worse, word to God\n  It's the Wu comin' through, stickin' niggas for they garments\n\n  Movin' on your left, southpaw, Mr. Meth\n  Came to represent and carve my name in your chest\n  You can come test, realize you're no contest\n  Son, I'm the gun that won that old Wild West\n  Quick on the draw with my hands on the four-\n  Nine-three-eleven with the rugged rhymes galore\n  Check it, 'cause I think not when this hip-hops like proper\n  Rhymes be the proof while I'm drinkin' 90 proof\n\n  Huh, vodka, no OJ, no straw\n  When you give it to me, ayy, give it to me raw\n  I've learned that when you drink Absolut straight it burns\n  Enough to give my chest hairs a perm\n  I don't need a chemical blow to pull a ho\n  All I need is Chemical Bank to pay the roll\n\n  What, basically that, Meth-Tical, '94 style\n  (Northern spicy brown mustard hoes, word up, we be hazardous)\n  We have to stick you\n\n  Is it real, son, is it really real, son? (Motherfucker, I'll fuckin')\n  Let me know it's real, son, if it's really real\n  Something I could feel, son, load it up and kill one\n  Want it raw deal, son, if it's really real\n\n  I'll fuckin', I'll fuckin' cut your kneecaps off\n  And make you kneel at some staircase, piss\n  I'll fuckin' cut your eyelids off and feed you nothin' but sleepin' pills\n  Get yours, motherfucker\n  So fuck the ho, fuck the ho\n"},{"id":32059778,"name":"Method Man  - Tical - 03 - Bring The Pain","trackName":"Method Man  - Tical - 03 - Bring The Pain","artistName":"Method Man","albumName":"Tical","duration":190.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Basically\nCan't fuck with me\n\nI came to bring the pain hardcore from the brain\nLet's go inside my astral plane\nFind out my mental, based on instrumental\nRecords, hey, so I can write monumental\nMethods, I'm not the king\nBut niggas is decaf, I stick 'em for the cream\nCheck it, just how deep can shit get\nDeep as the abyss and brothers is mad, fish accept it\n\nIn your Cross Colour clothes, you've crossed over\nThen got Totally Krossed Out and Kris Krossed\nWho the boss? Niggas get tossed to the side\nAnd I'm the dark side of the Force\nOf course it's the Method, Man from the Wu-Tang Clan\nI be hectic, and comin' for the head piece, protect it\nFuck it, two tears in a bucket\nNiggas want the ruckus\nBustin' at me, bruh, now bust it\n\nStyles, I gets buckwild\nMethod Man on some shit, pullin' niggas files, I'm sick\nInsane, crazy, driving Miss Daisy\nOut her fucking mind, now I got mine, I'm Swayze\n\nIs it real, son, is it really real, son?\nLet me know it's real, son, if it's really real\nSomething I could feel, son, load it up and kill one\nWant it raw deal, son, if it's really real, yeah, uh\n\nWhen I was a likle stereo (stereo)\nI listen to some Champion (Champion)\nI always wondered (wondered)\nWhen I will be di number one (Tical)\nAnd now yuh listen to di Gorgon (Gorgon)\nAnd a Gorgon sound a Rein\nAn' any jump and come tes' mi (test me)\nMi a-go lick out dem brain (it's like that)\n\nBrothers wanna hang with the Meth, bring the rope\nThe only way you'll hang is by the neck\nNigga, bolt off the set, comin' to your projects\nTake it as a threat, better yet it's a promise\nComin' from a vet on some old Vietnam shit\nNigga, you can bet your bottom dollar, hey, I bomb shit\nAnd it's gonna get even worse, word to God\nIt's the Wu comin' through, stickin' niggas for they garments\n\nMovin' on your left, southpaw, Mr. Meth\nCame to represent and carve my name in your chest\nYou can come test, realize you're no contest\nSon, I'm the gun that won that old Wild West\nQuick on the draw with my hands on the four-\nNine-three-eleven with the rugged rhymes galore\nCheck it, 'cause I think not when this hip-hops like proper\nRhymes be the proof while I'm drinkin' 90 proof\n\nHuh, vodka, no OJ, no straw\nWhen you give it to me, ayy, give it to me raw\nI've learned that when you drink Absolut straight it burns\nEnough to give my chest hairs a perm\nI don't need a chemical blow to pull a ho\nAll I need is Chemical Bank to pay the roll\n\nWhat, basically that, Meth-Tical, '94 style\n(Northern spicy brown mustard hoes, word up, we be hazardous)\nWe have to stick you\n\nIs it real, son, is it really real, son? (Motherfucker, I'll fuckin')\nLet me know it's real, son, if it's really real\nSomething I could feel, son, load it up and kill one\nWant it raw deal, son, if it's really real\n\nI'll fuckin', I'll fuckin' cut your kneecaps off\nAnd make you kneel at some staircase, piss\nI'll fuckin' cut your eyelids off and feed you nothin' but sleepin' pills\nGet yours, motherfucker\nSo fuck the ho, fuck the ho","syncedLyrics":"[00:00.16] Basically\n[00:02.62] Can't fuck with me\n[00:04.68] I came to bring the pain hardcore from the brain\n[00:07.73] Let's go inside my astral plane\n[00:09.60] Find out my mental, based on instrumental\n[00:11.74] Records, hey, so I can write monumental\n[00:14.13] Methods, I'm not the king\n[00:15.88] But niggas is decaf, I stick 'em for the cream\n[00:18.29] Check it, just how deep can shit get\n[00:20.61] Deep as the abyss and brothers is mad, fish accept it\n[00:23.61] In your Cross Colour clothes, you've crossed over\n[00:25.92] Then got Totally Krossed Out and Kris Krossed\n[00:28.33] Who the boss? Niggas get tossed to the side\n[00:30.60] And I'm the dark side of the Force\n[00:32.49] Of course it's the Method, Man from the Wu-Tang Clan\n[00:35.27] I be hectic, and comin' for the head piece, protect it\n[00:37.76] Fuck it, two tears in a bucket\n[00:39.45] Niggas want the ruckus\n[00:40.61] Bustin' at me, bruh, now bust it\n[00:42.47] Styles, I gets buckwild\n[00:44.01] Method Man on some shit, pullin' niggas files, I'm sick\n[00:47.12] Insane, crazy, driving Miss Daisy\n[00:49.55] Out her fucking mind, now I got mine, I'm Swayze\n[00:51.65] Is it real, son, is it really real, son?\n[00:53.72] Let me know it's real, son, if it's really real\n[00:56.25] Something I could feel, son, load it up and kill one\n[00:58.38] Want it raw deal, son, if it's really real, yeah, uh\n[01:01.54] When I was a likle stereo (stereo)\n[01:03.66] I listen to some Champion (Champion)\n[01:06.06] I always wondered (wondered)\n[01:08.50] When I will be di number one (Tical)\n[01:10.73] And now yuh listen to di Gorgon (Gorgon)\n[01:13.26] And a Gorgon sound a Rein\n[01:15.67] An' any jump and come tes' mi (test me)\n[01:17.86] Mi a-go lick out dem brain (it's like that)\n[01:20.06] Brothers wanna hang with the Meth, bring the rope\n[01:22.41] The only way you'll hang is by the neck\n[01:24.17] Nigga, bolt off the set, comin' to your projects\n[01:26.74] Take it as a threat, better yet it's a promise\n[01:29.01] Comin' from a vet on some old Vietnam shit\n[01:31.48] Nigga, you can bet your bottom dollar, hey, I bomb shit\n[01:33.75] And it's gonna get even worse, word to God\n[01:35.92] It's the Wu comin' through, stickin' niggas for they garments\n[01:38.41] Movin' on your left, southpaw, Mr. Meth\n[01:40.75] Came to represent and carve my name in your chest\n[01:43.02] You can come test, realize you're no contest\n[01:45.67] Son, I'm the gun that won that old Wild West\n[01:47.81] Quick on the draw with my hands on the four-\n[01:50.16] Nine-three-eleven with the rugged rhymes galore\n[01:52.58] Check it, 'cause I think not when this hip-hops like proper\n[01:55.50] Rhymes be the proof while I'm drinkin' 90 proof\n[01:57.68] Huh, vodka, no OJ, no straw\n[02:00.20] When you give it to me, ayy, give it to me raw\n[02:02.53] I've learned that when you drink Absolut straight it burns\n[02:05.42] Enough to give my chest hairs a perm\n[02:07.31] I don't need a chemical blow to pull a ho\n[02:09.69] All I need is Chemical Bank to pay the roll\n[02:12.41] What, basically that, Meth-Tical, '94 style\n[02:16.46] (Northern spicy brown mustard hoes, word up, we be hazardous)\n[02:18.76] We have to stick you\n[02:21.25] Is it real, son, is it really real, son? (Motherfucker, I'll fuckin')\n[02:23.46] Let me know it's real, son, if it's really real\n[02:25.58] Something I could feel, son, load it up and kill one\n[02:27.93] Want it raw deal, son, if it's really real\n[02:30.52] I'll fuckin', I'll fuckin' cut your kneecaps off\n[02:34.94] And make you kneel at some staircase, piss\n[02:38.48] I'll fuckin' cut your eyelids off and feed you nothin' but sleepin' pills\n[02:54.33] Get yours, motherfucker\n[03:01.11] So fuck the ho, fuck the ho\n[03:05.03] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Method Man  - Tical - 03 - Bring The Pain\n  artist: Method Man\n  album: Tical\n  duration_ms: 190000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Basically\n  start_ms: 160\n  end_ms: 2620\n- text: Can't fuck with me\n  start_ms: 2620\n  end_ms: 4680\n- text: I came to bring the pain hardcore from the brain\n  start_ms: 4680\n  end_ms: 7730\n- text: Let's go inside my astral plane\n  start_ms: 7730\n  end_ms: 9600\n- text: Find out my mental, based on instrumental\n  start_ms: 9600\n  end_ms: 11740\n- text: Records, hey, so I can write monumental\n  start_ms: 11740\n  end_ms: 14130\n- text: Methods, I'm not the king\n  start_ms: 14130\n  end_ms: 15880\n- text: But niggas is decaf, I stick 'em for the cream\n  start_ms: 15880\n  end_ms: 18290\n- text: Check it, just how deep can shit get\n  start_ms: 18290\n  end_ms: 20610\n- text: Deep as the abyss and brothers is mad, fish accept it\n  start_ms: 20610\n  end_ms: 23610\n- text: In your Cross Colour clothes, you've crossed over\n  start_ms: 23610\n  end_ms: 25920\n- text: Then got Totally Krossed Out and Kris Krossed\n  start_ms: 25920\n  end_ms: 28330\n- text: Who the boss? Niggas get tossed to the side\n  start_ms: 28330\n  end_ms: 30600\n- text: And I'm the dark side of the Force\n  start_ms: 30600\n  end_ms: 32490\n- text: Of course it's the Method, Man from the Wu-Tang Clan\n  start_ms: 32490\n  end_ms: 35270\n- text: I be hectic, and comin' for the head piece, protect it\n  start_ms: 35270\n  end_ms: 37760\n- text: Fuck it, two tears in a bucket\n  start_ms: 37760\n  end_ms: 39450\n- text: Niggas want the ruckus\n  start_ms: 39450\n  end_ms: 40610\n- text: Bustin' at me, bruh, now bust it\n  start_ms: 40610\n  end_ms: 42470\n- text: Styles, I gets buckwild\n  start_ms: 42470\n  end_ms: 44010\n- text: Method Man on some shit, pullin' niggas files, I'm sick\n  start_ms: 44010\n  end_ms: 47120\n- text: Insane, crazy, driving Miss Daisy\n  start_ms: 47120\n  end_ms: 49550\n- text: Out her fucking mind, now I got mine, I'm Swayze\n  start_ms: 49550\n  end_ms: 51650\n- text: Is it real, son, is it really real, son?\n  start_ms: 51650\n  end_ms: 53720\n- text: Let me know it's real, son, if it's really real\n  start_ms: 53720\n  end_ms: 56250\n- text: Something I could feel, son, load it up and kill one\n  start_ms: 56250\n  end_ms: 58380\n- text: Want it raw deal, son, if it's really real, yeah, uh\n  start_ms: 58380\n  end_ms: 61540\n- text: When I was a likle stereo (stereo)\n  start_ms: 61540\n  end_ms: 63660\n- text: I listen to some Champion (Champion)\n  start_ms: 63660\n  end_ms: 66060\n- text: I always wondered (wondered)\n  start_ms: 66060\n  end_ms: 68500\n- text: When I will be di number one (Tical)\n  start_ms: 68500\n  end_ms: 70730\n- text: And now yuh listen to di Gorgon (Gorgon)\n  start_ms: 70730\n  end_ms: 73260\n- text: And a Gorgon sound a Rein\n  start_ms: 73260\n  end_ms: 75670\n- text: An' any jump and come tes' mi (test me)\n  start_ms: 75670\n  end_ms: 77860\n- text: Mi a-go lick out dem brain (it's like that)\n  start_ms: 77860\n  end_ms: 80060\n- text: Brothers wanna hang with the Meth, bring the rope\n  start_ms: 80060\n  end_ms: 82410\n- text: The only way you'll hang is by the neck\n  start_ms: 82410\n  end_ms: 84170\n- text: Nigga, bolt off the set, comin' to your projects\n  start_ms: 84170\n  end_ms: 86740\n- text: Take it as a threat, better yet it's a promise\n  start_ms: 86740\n  end_ms: 89010\n- text: Comin' from a vet on some old Vietnam shit\n  start_ms: 89010\n  end_ms: 91480\n- text: Nigga, you can bet your bottom dollar, hey, I bomb shit\n  start_ms: 91480\n  end_ms: 93750\n- text: And it's gonna get even worse, word to God\n  start_ms: 93750\n  end_ms: 95920\n- text: It's the Wu comin' through, stickin' niggas for they garments\n  start_ms: 95920\n  end_ms: 98410\n- text: Movin' on your left, southpaw, Mr. Meth\n  start_ms: 98410\n  end_ms: 100750\n- text: Came to represent and carve my name in your chest\n  start_ms: 100750\n  end_ms: 103020\n- text: You can come test, realize you're no contest\n  start_ms: 103020\n  end_ms: 105670\n- text: Son, I'm the gun that won that old Wild West\n  start_ms: 105670\n  end_ms: 107810\n- text: Quick on the draw with my hands on the four-\n  start_ms: 107810\n  end_ms: 110160\n- text: Nine-three-eleven with the rugged rhymes galore\n  start_ms: 110160\n  end_ms: 112580\n- text: Check it, 'cause I think not when this hip-hops like proper\n  start_ms: 112580\n  end_ms: 115500\n- text: Rhymes be the proof while I'm drinkin' 90 proof\n  start_ms: 115500\n  end_ms: 117680\n- text: Huh, vodka, no OJ, no straw\n  start_ms: 117680\n  end_ms: 120200\n- text: When you give it to me, ayy, give it to me raw\n  start_ms: 120200\n  end_ms: 122530\n- text: I've learned that when you drink Absolut straight it burns\n  start_ms: 122530\n  end_ms: 125420\n- text: Enough to give my chest hairs a perm\n  start_ms: 125420\n  end_ms: 127310\n- text: I don't need a chemical blow to pull a ho\n  start_ms: 127310\n  end_ms: 129690\n- text: All I need is Chemical Bank to pay the roll\n  start_ms: 129690\n  end_ms: 132410\n- text: What, basically that, Meth-Tical, '94 style\n  start_ms: 132410\n  end_ms: 136460\n- text: (Northern spicy brown mustard hoes, word up, we be hazardous)\n  start_ms: 136460\n  end_ms: 138760\n- text: We have to stick you\n  start_ms: 138760\n  end_ms: 141250\n- text: Is it real, son, is it really real, son? (Motherfucker, I'll fuckin')\n  start_ms: 141250\n  end_ms: 143460\n- text: Let me know it's real, son, if it's really real\n  start_ms: 143460\n  end_ms: 145580\n- text: Something I could feel, son, load it up and kill one\n  start_ms: 145580\n  end_ms: 147930\n- text: Want it raw deal, son, if it's really real\n  start_ms: 147930\n  end_ms: 150520\n- text: I'll fuckin', I'll fuckin' cut your kneecaps off\n  start_ms: 150520\n  end_ms: 154940\n- text: And make you kneel at some staircase, piss\n  start_ms: 154940\n  end_ms: 158480\n- text: I'll fuckin' cut your eyelids off and feed you nothin' but sleepin' pills\n  start_ms: 158480\n  end_ms: 174330\n- text: Get yours, motherfucker\n  start_ms: 174330\n  end_ms: 181110\n- text: So fuck the ho, fuck the ho\n  start_ms: 181110\n  end_ms: 185030\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 185030\nplain: |-\n  Basically\n  Can't fuck with me\n\n  I came to bring the pain hardcore from the brain\n  Let's go inside my astral plane\n  Find out my mental, based on instrumental\n  Records, hey, so I can write monumental\n  Methods, I'm not the king\n  But niggas is decaf, I stick 'em for the cream\n  Check it, just how deep can shit get\n  Deep as the abyss and brothers is mad, fish accept it\n\n  In your Cross Colour clothes, you've crossed over\n  Then got Totally Krossed Out and Kris Krossed\n  Who the boss? Niggas get tossed to the side\n  And I'm the dark side of the Force\n  Of course it's the Method, Man from the Wu-Tang Clan\n  I be hectic, and comin' for the head piece, protect it\n  Fuck it, two tears in a bucket\n  Niggas want the ruckus\n  Bustin' at me, bruh, now bust it\n\n  Styles, I gets buckwild\n  Method Man on some shit, pullin' niggas files, I'm sick\n  Insane, crazy, driving Miss Daisy\n  Out her fucking mind, now I got mine, I'm Swayze\n\n  Is it real, son, is it really real, son?\n  Let me know it's real, son, if it's really real\n  Something I could feel, son, load it up and kill one\n  Want it raw deal, son, if it's really real, yeah, uh\n\n  When I was a likle stereo (stereo)\n  I listen to some Champion (Champion)\n  I always wondered (wondered)\n  When I will be di number one (Tical)\n  And now yuh listen to di Gorgon (Gorgon)\n  And a Gorgon sound a Rein\n  An' any jump and come tes' mi (test me)\n  Mi a-go lick out dem brain (it's like that)\n\n  Brothers wanna hang with the Meth, bring the rope\n  The only way you'll hang is by the neck\n  Nigga, bolt off the set, comin' to your projects\n  Take it as a threat, better yet it's a promise\n  Comin' from a vet on some old Vietnam shit\n  Nigga, you can bet your bottom dollar, hey, I bomb shit\n  And it's gonna get even worse, word to God\n  It's the Wu comin' through, stickin' niggas for they garments\n\n  Movin' on your left, southpaw, Mr. Meth\n  Came to represent and carve my name in your chest\n  You can come test, realize you're no contest\n  Son, I'm the gun that won that old Wild West\n  Quick on the draw with my hands on the four-\n  Nine-three-eleven with the rugged rhymes galore\n  Check it, 'cause I think not when this hip-hops like proper\n  Rhymes be the proof while I'm drinkin' 90 proof\n\n  Huh, vodka, no OJ, no straw\n  When you give it to me, ayy, give it to me raw\n  I've learned that when you drink Absolut straight it burns\n  Enough to give my chest hairs a perm\n  I don't need a chemical blow to pull a ho\n  All I need is Chemical Bank to pay the roll\n\n  What, basically that, Meth-Tical, '94 style\n  (Northern spicy brown mustard hoes, word up, we be hazardous)\n  We have to stick you\n\n  Is it real, son, is it really real, son? (Motherfucker, I'll fuckin')\n  Let me know it's real, son, if it's really real\n  Something I could feel, son, load it up and kill one\n  Want it raw deal, son, if it's really real\n\n  I'll fuckin', I'll fuckin' cut your kneecaps off\n  And make you kneel at some staircase, piss\n  I'll fuckin' cut your eyelids off and feed you nothin' but sleepin' pills\n  Get yours, motherfucker\n  So fuck the ho, fuck the ho\n"},{"id":18550629,"name":"Bring the Pain - Method Man, Diggs, Robert","trackName":"Bring the Pain - Method Man, Diggs, Robert","artistName":"Method Man","albumName":"Tical","duration":189.746667,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Basically\nCan't fuck with me\n\nI came to bring the pain hardcore from the brain\nLet's go inside my astral plane\nFind out my mental, based on instrumental\nRecords, hey, so I can write monumental\nMethods, I'm not the king\nBut niggas is decaf, I stick 'em for the cream\nCheck it, just how deep can shit get\nDeep as the abyss and brothers is mad, fish accept it\n\nIn your Cross Colour clothes, you've crossed over\nThen got Totally Krossed Out and Kris Krossed\nWho the boss? Niggas get tossed to the side\nAnd I'm the dark side of the Force\nOf course it's the Method, Man from the Wu-Tang Clan\nI be hectic, and comin' for the head piece, protect it\nFuck it, two tears in a bucket\nNiggas want the ruckus\nBustin' at me, bruh, now bust it\n\nStyles, I gets buckwild\nMethod Man on some shit, pullin' niggas files, I'm sick\nInsane, crazy, driving Miss Daisy\nOut her fucking mind, now I got mine, I'm Swayze\n\nIs it real, son, is it really real, son?\nLet me know it's real, son, if it's really real\nSomething I could feel, son, load it up and kill one\nWant it raw deal, son, if it's really real, yeah, uh\n\nWhen I was a likle stereo (stereo)\nI listen to some Champion (Champion)\nI always wondered (wondered)\nWhen I will be di number one (Tical)\nAnd now yuh listen to di Gorgon (Gorgon)\nAnd a Gorgon sound a Rein\nAn' any jump and come tes' mi (test me)\nMi a-go lick out dem brain (it's like that)\n\nBrothers wanna hang with the Meth, bring the rope\nThe only way you'll hang is by the neck\nNigga, bolt off the set, comin' to your projects\nTake it as a threat, better yet it's a promise\nComin' from a vet on some old Vietnam shit\nNigga, you can bet your bottom dollar, hey, I bomb shit\nAnd it's gonna get even worse, word to God\nIt's the Wu comin' through, stickin' niggas for they garments\n\nMovin' on your left, southpaw, Mr. Meth\nCame to represent and carve my name in your chest\nYou can come test, realize you're no contest\nSon, I'm the gun that won that old Wild West\nQuick on the draw with my hands on the four-\nNine-three-eleven with the rugged rhymes galore\nCheck it, 'cause I think not when this hip-hops like proper\nRhymes be the proof while I'm drinkin' 90 proof\n\nHuh, vodka, no OJ, no straw\nWhen you give it to me, ayy, give it to me raw\nI've learned that when you drink Absolut straight it burns\nEnough to give my chest hairs a perm\nI don't need a chemical blow to pull a ho\nAll I need is Chemical Bank to pay the roll\n\nWhat, basically that, Meth-Tical, '94 style\n(Northern spicy brown mustard hoes, word up, we be hazardous)\nWe have to stick you\n\nIs it real, son, is it really real, son? (Motherfucker, I'll fuckin')\nLet me know it's real, son, if it's really real\nSomething I could feel, son, load it up and kill one\nWant it raw deal, son, if it's really real\n\nI'll fuckin', I'll fuckin' cut your kneecaps off\nAnd make you kneel at some staircase, piss\nI'll fuckin' cut your eyelids off and feed you nothin' but sleepin' pills\nGet yours, motherfucker\nSo fuck the ho, fuck the ho","syncedLyrics":"[00:00.16] Basically\n[00:02.62] Can't fuck with me\n[00:04.68] I came to bring the pain hardcore from the brain\n[00:07.73] Let's go inside my astral plane\n[00:09.60] Find out my mental, based on instrumental\n[00:11.74] Records, hey, so I can write monumental\n[00:14.13] Methods, I'm not the king\n[00:15.88] But niggas is decaf, I stick 'em for the cream\n[00:18.29] Check it, just how deep can shit get\n[00:20.61] Deep as the abyss and brothers is mad, fish accept it\n[00:23.61] In your Cross Colour clothes, you've crossed over\n[00:25.92] Then got Totally Krossed Out and Kris Krossed\n[00:28.33] Who the boss? Niggas get tossed to the side\n[00:30.60] And I'm the dark side of the Force\n[00:32.49] Of course it's the Method, Man from the Wu-Tang Clan\n[00:35.27] I be hectic, and comin' for the head piece, protect it\n[00:37.76] Fuck it, two tears in a bucket\n[00:39.45] Niggas want the ruckus\n[00:40.61] Bustin' at me, bruh, now bust it\n[00:42.47] Styles, I gets buckwild\n[00:44.01] Method Man on some shit, pullin' niggas files, I'm sick\n[00:47.12] Insane, crazy, driving Miss Daisy\n[00:49.55] Out her fucking mind, now I got mine, I'm Swayze\n[00:51.65] Is it real, son, is it really real, son?\n[00:53.72] Let me know it's real, son, if it's really real\n[00:56.25] Something I could feel, son, load it up and kill one\n[00:58.38] Want it raw deal, son, if it's really real, yeah, uh\n[01:01.54] When I was a likle stereo (stereo)\n[01:03.66] I listen to some Champion (Champion)\n[01:06.06] I always wondered (wondered)\n[01:08.50] When I will be di number one (Tical)\n[01:10.73] And now yuh listen to di Gorgon (Gorgon)\n[01:13.26] And a Gorgon sound a Rein\n[01:15.67] An' any jump and come tes' mi (test me)\n[01:17.86] Mi a-go lick out dem brain (it's like that)\n[01:20.06] Brothers wanna hang with the Meth, bring the rope\n[01:22.41] The only way you'll hang is by the neck\n[01:24.17] Nigga, bolt off the set, comin' to your projects\n[01:26.74] Take it as a threat, better yet it's a promise\n[01:29.01] Comin' from a vet on some old Vietnam shit\n[01:31.48] Nigga, you can bet your bottom dollar, hey, I bomb shit\n[01:33.75] And it's gonna get even worse, word to God\n[01:35.92] It's the Wu comin' through, stickin' niggas for they garments\n[01:38.41] Movin' on your left, southpaw, Mr. Meth\n[01:40.75] Came to represent and carve my name in your chest\n[01:43.02] You can come test, realize you're no contest\n[01:45.67] Son, I'm the gun that won that old Wild West\n[01:47.81] Quick on the draw with my hands on the four-\n[01:50.16] Nine-three-eleven with the rugged rhymes galore\n[01:52.58] Check it, 'cause I think not when this hip-hops like proper\n[01:55.50] Rhymes be the proof while I'm drinkin' 90 proof\n[01:57.68] Huh, vodka, no OJ, no straw\n[02:00.20] When you give it to me, ayy, give it to me raw\n[02:02.53] I've learned that when you drink Absolut straight it burns\n[02:05.42] Enough to give my chest hairs a perm\n[02:07.31] I don't need a chemical blow to pull a ho\n[02:09.69] All I need is Chemical Bank to pay the roll\n[02:12.41] What, basically that, Meth-Tical, '94 style\n[02:16.46] (Northern spicy brown mustard hoes, word up, we be hazardous)\n[02:18.76] We have to stick you\n[02:21.25] Is it real, son, is it really real, son? (Motherfucker, I'll fuckin')\n[02:23.46] Let me know it's real, son, if it's really real\n[02:25.58] Something I could feel, son, load it up and kill one\n[02:27.93] Want it raw deal, son, if it's really real\n[02:30.52] I'll fuckin', I'll fuckin' cut your kneecaps off\n[02:34.94] And make you kneel at some staircase, piss\n[02:38.48] I'll fuckin' cut your eyelids off and feed you nothin' but sleepin' pills\n[02:54.33] Get yours, motherfucker\n[03:01.11] So fuck the ho, fuck the ho\n[03:05.03] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Bring the Pain - Method Man, Diggs, Robert\n  artist: Method Man\n  album: Tical\n  duration_ms: 189747\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Basically\n  start_ms: 160\n  end_ms: 2620\n- text: Can't fuck with me\n  start_ms: 2620\n  end_ms: 4680\n- text: I came to bring the pain hardcore from the brain\n  start_ms: 4680\n  end_ms: 7730\n- text: Let's go inside my astral plane\n  start_ms: 7730\n  end_ms: 9600\n- text: Find out my mental, based on instrumental\n  start_ms: 9600\n  end_ms: 11740\n- text: Records, hey, so I can write monumental\n  start_ms: 11740\n  end_ms: 14130\n- text: Methods, I'm not the king\n  start_ms: 14130\n  end_ms: 15880\n- text: But niggas is decaf, I stick 'em for the cream\n  start_ms: 15880\n  end_ms: 18290\n- text: Check it, just how deep can shit get\n  start_ms: 18290\n  end_ms: 20610\n- text: Deep as the abyss and brothers is mad, fish accept it\n  start_ms: 20610\n  end_ms: 23610\n- text: In your Cross Colour clothes, you've crossed over\n  start_ms: 23610\n  end_ms: 25920\n- text: Then got Totally Krossed Out and Kris Krossed\n  start_ms: 25920\n  end_ms: 28330\n- text: Who the boss? Niggas get tossed to the side\n  start_ms: 28330\n  end_ms: 30600\n- text: And I'm the dark side of the Force\n  start_ms: 30600\n  end_ms: 32490\n- text: Of course it's the Method, Man from the Wu-Tang Clan\n  start_ms: 32490\n  end_ms: 35270\n- text: I be hectic, and comin' for the head piece, protect it\n  start_ms: 35270\n  end_ms: 37760\n- text: Fuck it, two tears in a bucket\n  start_ms: 37760\n  end_ms: 39450\n- text: Niggas want the ruckus\n  start_ms: 39450\n  end_ms: 40610\n- text: Bustin' at me, bruh, now bust it\n  start_ms: 40610\n  end_ms: 42470\n- text: Styles, I gets buckwild\n  start_ms: 42470\n  end_ms: 44010\n- text: Method Man on some shit, pullin' niggas files, I'm sick\n  start_ms: 44010\n  end_ms: 47120\n- text: Insane, crazy, driving Miss Daisy\n  start_ms: 47120\n  end_ms: 49550\n- text: Out her fucking mind, now I got mine, I'm Swayze\n  start_ms: 49550\n  end_ms: 51650\n- text: Is it real, son, is it really real, son?\n  start_ms: 51650\n  end_ms: 53720\n- text: Let me know it's real, son, if it's really real\n  start_ms: 53720\n  end_ms: 56250\n- text: Something I could feel, son, load it up and kill one\n  start_ms: 56250\n  end_ms: 58380\n- text: Want it raw deal, son, if it's really real, yeah, uh\n  start_ms: 58380\n  end_ms: 61540\n- text: When I was a likle stereo (stereo)\n  start_ms: 61540\n  end_ms: 63660\n- text: I listen to some Champion (Champion)\n  start_ms: 63660\n  end_ms: 66060\n- text: I always wondered (wondered)\n  start_ms: 66060\n  end_ms: 68500\n- text: When I will be di number one (Tical)\n  start_ms: 68500\n  end_ms: 70730\n- text: And now yuh listen to di Gorgon (Gorgon)\n  start_ms: 70730\n  end_ms: 73260\n- text: And a Gorgon sound a Rein\n  start_ms: 73260\n  end_ms: 75670\n- text: An' any jump and come tes' mi (test me)\n  start_ms: 75670\n  end_ms: 77860\n- text: Mi a-go lick out dem brain (it's like that)\n  start_ms: 77860\n  end_ms: 80060\n- text: Brothers wanna hang with the Meth, bring the rope\n  start_ms: 80060\n  end_ms: 82410\n- text: The only way you'll hang is by the neck\n  start_ms: 82410\n  end_ms: 84170\n- text: Nigga, bolt off the set, comin' to your projects\n  start_ms: 84170\n  end_ms: 86740\n- text: Take it as a threat, better yet it's a promise\n  start_ms: 86740\n  end_ms: 89010\n- text: Comin' from a vet on some old Vietnam shit\n  start_ms: 89010\n  end_ms: 91480\n- text: Nigga, you can bet your bottom dollar, hey, I bomb shit\n  start_ms: 91480\n  end_ms: 93750\n- text: And it's gonna get even worse, word to God\n  start_ms: 93750\n  end_ms: 95920\n- text: It's the Wu comin' through, stickin' niggas for they garments\n  start_ms: 95920\n  end_ms: 98410\n- text: Movin' on your left, southpaw, Mr. Meth\n  start_ms: 98410\n  end_ms: 100750\n- text: Came to represent and carve my name in your chest\n  start_ms: 100750\n  end_ms: 103020\n- text: You can come test, realize you're no contest\n  start_ms: 103020\n  end_ms: 105670\n- text: Son, I'm the gun that won that old Wild West\n  start_ms: 105670\n  end_ms: 107810\n- text: Quick on the draw with my hands on the four-\n  start_ms: 107810\n  end_ms: 110160\n- text: Nine-three-eleven with the rugged rhymes galore\n  start_ms: 110160\n  end_ms: 112580\n- text: Check it, 'cause I think not when this hip-hops like proper\n  start_ms: 112580\n  end_ms: 115500\n- text: Rhymes be the proof while I'm drinkin' 90 proof\n  start_ms: 115500\n  end_ms: 117680\n- text: Huh, vodka, no OJ, no straw\n  start_ms: 117680\n  end_ms: 120200\n- text: When you give it to me, ayy, give it to me raw\n  start_ms: 120200\n  end_ms: 122530\n- text: I've learned that when you drink Absolut straight it burns\n  start_ms: 122530\n  end_ms: 125420\n- text: Enough to give my chest hairs a perm\n  start_ms: 125420\n  end_ms: 127310\n- text: I don't need a chemical blow to pull a ho\n  start_ms: 127310\n  end_ms: 129690\n- text: All I need is Chemical Bank to pay the roll\n  start_ms: 129690\n  end_ms: 132410\n- text: What, basically that, Meth-Tical, '94 style\n  start_ms: 132410\n  end_ms: 136460\n- text: (Northern spicy brown mustard hoes, word up, we be hazardous)\n  start_ms: 136460\n  end_ms: 138760\n- text: We have to stick you\n  start_ms: 138760\n  end_ms: 141250\n- text: Is it real, son, is it really real, son? (Motherfucker, I'll fuckin')\n  start_ms: 141250\n  end_ms: 143460\n- text: Let me know it's real, son, if it's really real\n  start_ms: 143460\n  end_ms: 145580\n- text: Something I could feel, son, load it up and kill one\n  start_ms: 145580\n  end_ms: 147930\n- text: Want it raw deal, son, if it's really real\n  start_ms: 147930\n  end_ms: 150520\n- text: I'll fuckin', I'll fuckin' cut your kneecaps off\n  start_ms: 150520\n  end_ms: 154940\n- text: And make you kneel at some staircase, piss\n  start_ms: 154940\n  end_ms: 158480\n- text: I'll fuckin' cut your eyelids off and feed you nothin' but sleepin' pills\n  start_ms: 158480\n  end_ms: 174330\n- text: Get yours, motherfucker\n  start_ms: 174330\n  end_ms: 181110\n- text: So fuck the ho, fuck the ho\n  start_ms: 181110\n  end_ms: 185030\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 185030\nplain: |-\n  Basically\n  Can't fuck with me\n\n  I came to bring the pain hardcore from the brain\n  Let's go inside my astral plane\n  Find out my mental, based on instrumental\n  Records, hey, so I can write monumental\n  Methods, I'm not the king\n  But niggas is decaf, I stick 'em for the cream\n  Check it, just how deep can shit get\n  Deep as the abyss and brothers is mad, fish accept it\n\n  In your Cross Colour clothes, you've crossed over\n  Then got Totally Krossed Out and Kris Krossed\n  Who the boss? Niggas get tossed to the side\n  And I'm the dark side of the Force\n  Of course it's the Method, Man from the Wu-Tang Clan\n  I be hectic, and comin' for the head piece, protect it\n  Fuck it, two tears in a bucket\n  Niggas want the ruckus\n  Bustin' at me, bruh, now bust it\n\n  Styles, I gets buckwild\n  Method Man on some shit, pullin' niggas files, I'm sick\n  Insane, crazy, driving Miss Daisy\n  Out her fucking mind, now I got mine, I'm Swayze\n\n  Is it real, son, is it really real, son?\n  Let me know it's real, son, if it's really real\n  Something I could feel, son, load it up and kill one\n  Want it raw deal, son, if it's really real, yeah, uh\n\n  When I was a likle stereo (stereo)\n  I listen to some Champion (Champion)\n  I always wondered (wondered)\n  When I will be di number one (Tical)\n  And now yuh listen to di Gorgon (Gorgon)\n  And a Gorgon sound a Rein\n  An' any jump and come tes' mi (test me)\n  Mi a-go lick out dem brain (it's like that)\n\n  Brothers wanna hang with the Meth, bring the rope\n  The only way you'll hang is by the neck\n  Nigga, bolt off the set, comin' to your projects\n  Take it as a threat, better yet it's a promise\n  Comin' from a vet on some old Vietnam shit\n  Nigga, you can bet your bottom dollar, hey, I bomb shit\n  And it's gonna get even worse, word to God\n  It's the Wu comin' through, stickin' niggas for they garments\n\n  Movin' on your left, southpaw, Mr. Meth\n  Came to represent and carve my name in your chest\n  You can come test, realize you're no contest\n  Son, I'm the gun that won that old Wild West\n  Quick on the draw with my hands on the four-\n  Nine-three-eleven with the rugged rhymes galore\n  Check it, 'cause I think not when this hip-hops like proper\n  Rhymes be the proof while I'm drinkin' 90 proof\n\n  Huh, vodka, no OJ, no straw\n  When you give it to me, ayy, give it to me raw\n  I've learned that when you drink Absolut straight it burns\n  Enough to give my chest hairs a perm\n  I don't need a chemical blow to pull a ho\n  All I need is Chemical Bank to pay the roll\n\n  What, basically that, Meth-Tical, '94 style\n  (Northern spicy brown mustard hoes, word up, we be hazardous)\n  We have to stick you\n\n  Is it real, son, is it really real, son? (Motherfucker, I'll fuckin')\n  Let me know it's real, son, if it's really real\n  Something I could feel, son, load it up and kill one\n  Want it raw deal, son, if it's really real\n\n  I'll fuckin', I'll fuckin' cut your kneecaps off\n  And make you kneel at some staircase, piss\n  I'll fuckin' cut your eyelids off and feed you nothin' but sleepin' pills\n  Get yours, motherfucker\n  So fuck the ho, fuck the ho\n"},{"id":13404996,"name":"P.L.O. Style (Instrumental)","trackName":"P.L.O. Style (Instrumental)","artistName":"Method Man","albumName":"Bring The Pain","duration":157.884083,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"P.L.O. style, buddha monks with the Owls\nP.L.O. style, buddha monks with the Owls\nP.L.O. style, buddha monks with the Owls\nP.L.O. style\n\nHere comes the ruckus, the motherfuckin' ruckus\nThousands of cut-throats and purse snatchin' fucks\nStraight from the brain, I'll be givin' you the pain, anger\nComin' from the 36th chamber, bang\nTical, hittin' with the buddha fist style\nShotgun slammin' in your chestpiece, plow\nBrain, is blown all over the terrain\nLike a man without no arms you can't hang\nTime for a change of the guard\nYou've been arrested for lyric fraud now you hard\nFor real, check it, i pull strings like B.B. King on guitar\nI'm the true fist of the north star\n\nOh what a tangled web we weave\nWhen first we practice to decieve\nGuns be clickin', runnin' with my clan we be stickin'\nWhatever, my street family stays together\nRepresent what I invent, killa hill\nResident, rest in peace to my nigga Two Cent\nThe street life is the only life I know\nI live by the code, style it's mad P.L.O.\nIranian thoughts and cover like an Arabian\nGrab the nigga on the spot and put a nine to his cranium\n\nI can't get no satisfaction, niggas won't be lasting\nLong, unless they get protection for real\nStrong, coming with my Clan so what's happening\nCommercial rap, hate it with a passion\nThe M-E-T-H-O-D got me drinking\nO.E. all night in a M.P.V\nJust maxing, looking for hoes, you know relaxing\nBitches know the hour, it be time for some action\nP.L.O., peace to that nigga Berriano\nWhat up, Fisk? take him to the bridge, Verrazano\n\nP.L.O. style, Buddha monks with the Owls\nP.L.O. style, Buddha monks with the Owls\nP.L.O. style, Buddha monks with the Owls\nP.L.O. style","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: P.L.O. Style (Instrumental)\n  artist: Method Man\n  album: Bring The Pain\n  duration_ms: 157884\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  P.L.O. style, buddha monks with the Owls\n  P.L.O. style, buddha monks with the Owls\n  P.L.O. style, buddha monks with the Owls\n  P.L.O. style\n\n  Here comes the ruckus, the motherfuckin' ruckus\n  Thousands of cut-throats and purse snatchin' fucks\n  Straight from the brain, I'll be givin' you the pain, anger\n  Comin' from the 36th chamber, bang\n  Tical, hittin' with the buddha fist style\n  Shotgun slammin' in your chestpiece, plow\n  Brain, is blown all over the terrain\n  Like a man without no arms you can't hang\n  Time for a change of the guard\n  You've been arrested for lyric fraud now you hard\n  For real, check it, i pull strings like B.B. King on guitar\n  I'm the true fist of the north star\n\n  Oh what a tangled web we weave\n  When first we practice to decieve\n  Guns be clickin', runnin' with my clan we be stickin'\n  Whatever, my street family stays together\n  Represent what I invent, killa hill\n  Resident, rest in peace to my nigga Two Cent\n  The street life is the only life I know\n  I live by the code, style it's mad P.L.O.\n  Iranian thoughts and cover like an Arabian\n  Grab the nigga on the spot and put a nine to his cranium\n\n  I can't get no satisfaction, niggas won't be lasting\n  Long, unless they get protection for real\n  Strong, coming with my Clan so what's happening\n  Commercial rap, hate it with a passion\n  The M-E-T-H-O-D got me drinking\n  O.E. all night in a M.P.V\n  Just maxing, looking for hoes, you know relaxing\n  Bitches know the hour, it be time for some action\n  P.L.O., peace to that nigga Berriano\n  What up, Fisk? take him to the bridge, Verrazano\n\n  P.L.O. style, Buddha monks with the Owls\n  P.L.O. style, Buddha monks with the Owls\n  P.L.O. style, Buddha monks with the Owls\n  P.L.O. style\n"},{"id":14080450,"name":"3.Method Man (1994) - Tical - Bring The Pain","trackName":"3.Method Man (1994) - Tical - Bring The Pain","artistName":"Method Man","albumName":"Tical","duration":189.6458,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Basically, can't fuck with me\n\nI came to bring the pain hardcore from the brain\nLet's go inside my astral plane\nFind out my mental's based on instrumental\nRecords hey, so I can write monumental\nMethods, I'm not the king\nBut niggaz is decaf I stick 'em for the cream\nCheck it, just how deep can shit get\nDeep as the abyss and brothers is mad fish accept it\nIn your cross color, clothes you've crossed over\nThen got totally krossed out and Kris Kross\nWho da boss? Niggaz get tossed to the side\nAnd I'm the dark side of the force\nOf course it's the Method Man from the Wu-Tang Clan\nI be hectic and comin' for the head piece protect it\nFuck it, two tears in a bucket, niggaz want the ruckus\nBustin' at me brush, now bust it\nStyles, I gets buck wild\nMethod Man on some shit, pullin' niggaz files\nI'm sick, insane, crazy, drivin' Miss Daisy\nOut her fuckin' mind now I got Martin Swayze\nIs it real son, is it really real son?\nLet me know it's real son, if it's really real\nSomething I could feel son, load it up and kill one\nWant it raw deal son, if it's really real\n\nAnd when I was a lil' stereo\n(Stereo)\nI listened to some champion\n(Champion)\nI always wondered\n(Wondered)\nWill now I be the numba one?\n(Tical! Hahaha)\n\nNow you listen to de gargon\n(Gargon!)\nAnd de gargon summary\nAnd any man dat come test me\n(Test me)\nMe gwanna lick out dem brains\n(It's like that)\n\nBrothers want to hang with the Meth bring the rope\nThe only way you hang is by the neck nigga poke\nOff the set comin' to your projects\nTake it as a threat, better yet it's a promise\nComin' from a vet on some old Vietnam shit\nNigga you can bet your bottom dollar hey I bomb shit\nAnd it's gonna get even worse word to God\nIt's the Wu comin' through sickin' niggaz for they garments\nMovin' on your left, southpaw 'em it's the Meth\nCame to represent and carve my name in your chest\nYou can come test realize you're no contest\nSon, I'm the gun that won that old Wild West\nQuick on the draw with my hands on the four\nNine three eleven with the rugged rhymes galore\nCheck it 'cause I think not when this hip-hops like proper\nRhymes be the proof while I'm drinkin' 90 proof\nHuh vodka, no OJ, no straw,\nwhen you give it to me aiy, give it to me raw\nI've learned when you drink absolute straight it burns\nEnough to give my chest hairs a perm\nI don't need a chemical blow to pull a hoe\nAll I need is chemical bank to pay da mo'\nWhat, basically that, Meth-Tical, ninety-four style\nWord up we be hazardous car crashing, horn passing me\nNorthern spicy brown mustard hoes\nWe have to stick you\n\nIs it real son, is it really real son?\nLet me know it's real son, if it's really real\nSomething I could feel son, load it up and kill one\nWant it raw deal son, if it's really real\n\nI'll fuckin', I'll fuckin' cut your kneecaps off\nAnd make you kneel in some staircase piss\nI'll fuckin', cut your eyelids off\nAnd feed you nuthin' but sleepin' pills\nYou motherfuckers\nSo fuck the hoe\n(So)\nFuck the hoe","syncedLyrics":"[00:01.56] Basically, can't fuck with me\n[00:04.73] I came to bring the pain hardcore from the brain\n[00:07.74] Let's go inside my astral plane\n[00:09.65] Find out my mental's based on instrumental\n[00:11.72] Records hey, so I can write monumental\n[00:14.17] Methods, I'm not the king\n[00:15.88] But niggaz is decaf I stick 'em for the cream\n[00:18.10] Check it, just how deep can shit get\n[00:20.74] Deep as the abyss and brothers is mad fish accept it\n[00:23.70] In your cross color, clothes you've crossed over\n[00:26.07] Then got totally krossed out and Kris Kross\n[00:28.46] Who da boss? Niggaz get tossed to the side\n[00:30.77] And I'm the dark side of the force\n[00:32.67] Of course it's the Method Man from the Wu-Tang Clan\n[00:35.33] I be hectic and comin' for the head piece protect it\n[00:37.90] Fuck it, two tears in a bucket, niggaz want the ruckus\n[00:40.73] Bustin' at me brush, now bust it\n[00:42.80] Styles, I gets buck wild\n[00:44.42] Method Man on some shit, pullin' niggaz files\n[00:46.53] I'm sick, insane, crazy, drivin' Miss Daisy\n[00:49.54] Out her fuckin' mind now I got Martin Swayze\n[00:51.94] Is it real son, is it really real son?\n[00:53.91] Let me know it's real son, if it's really real\n[00:56.06] Something I could feel son, load it up and kill one\n[00:58.58] Want it raw deal son, if it's really real\n[01:00.96] And when I was a lil' stereo\n[01:03.29] (Stereo)\n[01:04.17] I listened to some champion\n[01:05.45] (Champion)\n[01:06.78] I always wondered\n[01:07.95] (Wondered)\n[01:08.92] Will now I be the numba one?\n[01:10.52] (Tical! Hahaha)\n[01:10.98] Now you listen to de gargon\n[01:12.97] (Gargon!)\n[01:13.85] And de gargon summary\n[01:15.76] And any man dat come test me\n[01:17.46] (Test me)\n[01:18.34] Me gwanna lick out dem brains\n[01:19.60] (It's like that)\n[01:20.16] Brothers want to hang with the Meth bring the rope\n[01:22.71] The only way you hang is by the neck nigga poke\n[01:24.97] Off the set comin' to your projects\n[01:27.13] Take it as a threat, better yet it's a promise\n[01:29.18] Comin' from a vet on some old Vietnam shit\n[01:31.61] Nigga you can bet your bottom dollar hey I bomb shit\n[01:33.94] And it's gonna get even worse word to God\n[01:36.22] It's the Wu comin' through sickin' niggaz for they garments\n[01:38.91] Movin' on your left, southpaw 'em it's the Meth\n[01:40.86] Came to represent and carve my name in your chest\n[01:43.16] You can come test realize you're no contest\n[01:45.75] Son, I'm the gun that won that old Wild West\n[01:47.81] Quick on the draw with my hands on the four\n[01:50.37] Nine three eleven with the rugged rhymes galore\n[01:52.92] Check it 'cause I think not when this hip-hops like proper\n[01:55.79] Rhymes be the proof while I'm drinkin' 90 proof\n[01:58.13] Huh vodka, no OJ, no straw,\n[02:00.32] when you give it to me aiy, give it to me raw\n[02:02.47] I've learned when you drink absolute straight it burns\n[02:05.39] Enough to give my chest hairs a perm\n[02:07.40] I don't need a chemical blow to pull a hoe\n[02:09.61] All I need is chemical bank to pay da mo'\n[02:11.82] What, basically that, Meth-Tical, ninety-four style\n[02:16.82] Word up we be hazardous car crashing, horn passing me\n[02:18.80] Northern spicy brown mustard hoes\n[02:20.19] We have to stick you\n[02:21.27] Is it real son, is it really real son?\n[02:23.47] Let me know it's real son, if it's really real\n[02:25.74] Something I could feel son, load it up and kill one\n[02:27.91] Want it raw deal son, if it's really real\n[02:30.48] I'll fuckin', I'll fuckin' cut your kneecaps off\n[02:34.51] And make you kneel in some staircase piss\n[02:37.63] I'll fuckin', cut your eyelids off\n[02:45.64] And feed you nuthin' but sleepin' pills\n[02:49.44] You motherfuckers\n[03:01.11] So fuck the hoe\n[03:03.05] (So)\n[03:03.58] Fuck the hoe\n[03:06.03] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: 3.Method Man (1994) - Tical - Bring The Pain\n  artist: Method Man\n  album: Tical\n  duration_ms: 189646\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Basically, can't fuck with me\n  start_ms: 1560\n  end_ms: 4730\n- text: I came to bring the pain hardcore from the brain\n  start_ms: 4730\n  end_ms: 7740\n- text: Let's go inside my astral plane\n  start_ms: 7740\n  end_ms: 9650\n- text: Find out my mental's based on instrumental\n  start_ms: 9650\n  end_ms: 11720\n- text: Records hey, so I can write monumental\n  start_ms: 11720\n  end_ms: 14170\n- text: Methods, I'm not the king\n  start_ms: 14170\n  end_ms: 15880\n- text: But niggaz is decaf I stick 'em for the cream\n  start_ms: 15880\n  end_ms: 18100\n- text: Check it, just how deep can shit get\n  start_ms: 18100\n  end_ms: 20740\n- text: Deep as the abyss and brothers is mad fish accept it\n  start_ms: 20740\n  end_ms: 23700\n- text: In your cross color, clothes you've crossed over\n  start_ms: 23700\n  end_ms: 26070\n- text: Then got totally krossed out and Kris Kross\n  start_ms: 26070\n  end_ms: 28460\n- text: Who da boss? Niggaz get tossed to the side\n  start_ms: 28460\n  end_ms: 30770\n- text: And I'm the dark side of the force\n  start_ms: 30770\n  end_ms: 32670\n- text: Of course it's the Method Man from the Wu-Tang Clan\n  start_ms: 32670\n  end_ms: 35330\n- text: I be hectic and comin' for the head piece protect it\n  start_ms: 35330\n  end_ms: 37900\n- text: Fuck it, two tears in a bucket, niggaz want the ruckus\n  start_ms: 37900\n  end_ms: 40730\n- text: Bustin' at me brush, now bust it\n  start_ms: 40730\n  end_ms: 42800\n- text: Styles, I gets buck wild\n  start_ms: 42800\n  end_ms: 44420\n- text: Method Man on some shit, pullin' niggaz files\n  start_ms: 44420\n  end_ms: 46530\n- text: I'm sick, insane, crazy, drivin' Miss Daisy\n  start_ms: 46530\n  end_ms: 49540\n- text: Out her fuckin' mind now I got Martin Swayze\n  start_ms: 49540\n  end_ms: 51940\n- text: Is it real son, is it really real son?\n  start_ms: 51940\n  end_ms: 53910\n- text: Let me know it's real son, if it's really real\n  start_ms: 53910\n  end_ms: 56060\n- text: Something I could feel son, load it up and kill one\n  start_ms: 56060\n  end_ms: 58580\n- text: Want it raw deal son, if it's really real\n  start_ms: 58580\n  end_ms: 60960\n- text: And when I was a lil' stereo\n  start_ms: 60960\n  end_ms: 63290\n- text: (Stereo)\n  start_ms: 63290\n  end_ms: 64170\n- text: I listened to some champion\n  start_ms: 64170\n  end_ms: 65450\n- text: (Champion)\n  start_ms: 65450\n  end_ms: 66780\n- text: I always wondered\n  start_ms: 66780\n  end_ms: 67950\n- text: (Wondered)\n  start_ms: 67950\n  end_ms: 68920\n- text: Will now I be the numba one?\n  start_ms: 68920\n  end_ms: 70520\n- text: (Tical! Hahaha)\n  start_ms: 70520\n  end_ms: 70980\n- text: Now you listen to de gargon\n  start_ms: 70980\n  end_ms: 72970\n- text: (Gargon!)\n  start_ms: 72970\n  end_ms: 73850\n- text: And de gargon summary\n  start_ms: 73850\n  end_ms: 75760\n- text: And any man dat come test me\n  start_ms: 75760\n  end_ms: 77460\n- text: (Test me)\n  start_ms: 77460\n  end_ms: 78340\n- text: Me gwanna lick out dem brains\n  start_ms: 78340\n  end_ms: 79600\n- text: (It's like that)\n  start_ms: 79600\n  end_ms: 80160\n- text: Brothers want to hang with the Meth bring the rope\n  start_ms: 80160\n  end_ms: 82710\n- text: The only way you hang is by the neck nigga poke\n  start_ms: 82710\n  end_ms: 84970\n- text: Off the set comin' to your projects\n  start_ms: 84970\n  end_ms: 87130\n- text: Take it as a threat, better yet it's a promise\n  start_ms: 87130\n  end_ms: 89180\n- text: Comin' from a vet on some old Vietnam shit\n  start_ms: 89180\n  end_ms: 91610\n- text: Nigga you can bet your bottom dollar hey I bomb shit\n  start_ms: 91610\n  end_ms: 93940\n- text: And it's gonna get even worse word to God\n  start_ms: 93940\n  end_ms: 96220\n- text: It's the Wu comin' through sickin' niggaz for they garments\n  start_ms: 96220\n  end_ms: 98910\n- text: Movin' on your left, southpaw 'em it's the Meth\n  start_ms: 98910\n  end_ms: 100860\n- text: Came to represent and carve my name in your chest\n  start_ms: 100860\n  end_ms: 103160\n- text: You can come test realize you're no contest\n  start_ms: 103160\n  end_ms: 105750\n- text: Son, I'm the gun that won that old Wild West\n  start_ms: 105750\n  end_ms: 107810\n- text: Quick on the draw with my hands on the four\n  start_ms: 107810\n  end_ms: 110370\n- text: Nine three eleven with the rugged rhymes galore\n  start_ms: 110370\n  end_ms: 112920\n- text: Check it 'cause I think not when this hip-hops like proper\n  start_ms: 112920\n  end_ms: 115790\n- text: Rhymes be the proof while I'm drinkin' 90 proof\n  start_ms: 115790\n  end_ms: 118130\n- text: Huh vodka, no OJ, no straw,\n  start_ms: 118130\n  end_ms: 120320\n- text: when you give it to me aiy, give it to me raw\n  start_ms: 120320\n  end_ms: 122470\n- text: I've learned when you drink absolute straight it burns\n  start_ms: 122470\n  end_ms: 125390\n- text: Enough to give my chest hairs a perm\n  start_ms: 125390\n  end_ms: 127400\n- text: I don't need a chemical blow to pull a hoe\n  start_ms: 127400\n  end_ms: 129610\n- text: All I need is chemical bank to pay da mo'\n  start_ms: 129610\n  end_ms: 131820\n- text: What, basically that, Meth-Tical, ninety-four style\n  start_ms: 131820\n  end_ms: 136820\n- text: Word up we be hazardous car crashing, horn passing me\n  start_ms: 136820\n  end_ms: 138800\n- text: Northern spicy brown mustard hoes\n  start_ms: 138800\n  end_ms: 140190\n- text: We have to stick you\n  start_ms: 140190\n  end_ms: 141270\n- text: Is it real son, is it really real son?\n  start_ms: 141270\n  end_ms: 143470\n- text: Let me know it's real son, if it's really real\n  start_ms: 143470\n  end_ms: 145740\n- text: Something I could feel son, load it up and kill one\n  start_ms: 145740\n  end_ms: 147910\n- text: Want it raw deal son, if it's really real\n  start_ms: 147910\n  end_ms: 150480\n- text: I'll fuckin', I'll fuckin' cut your kneecaps off\n  start_ms: 150480\n  end_ms: 154510\n- text: And make you kneel in some staircase piss\n  start_ms: 154510\n  end_ms: 157630\n- text: I'll fuckin', cut your eyelids off\n  start_ms: 157630\n  end_ms: 165640\n- text: And feed you nuthin' but sleepin' pills\n  start_ms: 165640\n  end_ms: 169440\n- text: You motherfuckers\n  start_ms: 169440\n  end_ms: 181110\n- text: So fuck the hoe\n  start_ms: 181110\n  end_ms: 183050\n- text: (So)\n  start_ms: 183050\n  end_ms: 183580\n- text: Fuck the hoe\n  start_ms: 183580\n  end_ms: 186030\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 186030\nplain: |-\n  Basically, can't fuck with me\n\n  I came to bring the pain hardcore from the brain\n  Let's go inside my astral plane\n  Find out my mental's based on instrumental\n  Records hey, so I can write monumental\n  Methods, I'm not the king\n  But niggaz is decaf I stick 'em for the cream\n  Check it, just how deep can shit get\n  Deep as the abyss and brothers is mad fish accept it\n  In your cross color, clothes you've crossed over\n  Then got totally krossed out and Kris Kross\n  Who da boss? Niggaz get tossed to the side\n  And I'm the dark side of the force\n  Of course it's the Method Man from the Wu-Tang Clan\n  I be hectic and comin' for the head piece protect it\n  Fuck it, two tears in a bucket, niggaz want the ruckus\n  Bustin' at me brush, now bust it\n  Styles, I gets buck wild\n  Method Man on some shit, pullin' niggaz files\n  I'm sick, insane, crazy, drivin' Miss Daisy\n  Out her fuckin' mind now I got Martin Swayze\n  Is it real son, is it really real son?\n  Let me know it's real son, if it's really real\n  Something I could feel son, load it up and kill one\n  Want it raw deal son, if it's really real\n\n  And when I was a lil' stereo\n  (Stereo)\n  I listened to some champion\n  (Champion)\n  I always wondered\n  (Wondered)\n  Will now I be the numba one?\n  (Tical! Hahaha)\n\n  Now you listen to de gargon\n  (Gargon!)\n  And de gargon summary\n  And any man dat come test me\n  (Test me)\n  Me gwanna lick out dem brains\n  (It's like that)\n\n  Brothers want to hang with the Meth bring the rope\n  The only way you hang is by the neck nigga poke\n  Off the set comin' to your projects\n  Take it as a threat, better yet it's a promise\n  Comin' from a vet on some old Vietnam shit\n  Nigga you can bet your bottom dollar hey I bomb shit\n  And it's gonna get even worse word to God\n  It's the Wu comin' through sickin' niggaz for they garments\n  Movin' on your left, southpaw 'em it's the Meth\n  Came to represent and carve my name in your chest\n  You can come test realize you're no contest\n  Son, I'm the gun that won that old Wild West\n  Quick on the draw with my hands on the four\n  Nine three eleven with the rugged rhymes galore\n  Check it 'cause I think not when this hip-hops like proper\n  Rhymes be the proof while I'm drinkin' 90 proof\n  Huh vodka, no OJ, no straw,\n  when you give it to me aiy, give it to me raw\n  I've learned when you drink absolute straight it burns\n  Enough to give my chest hairs a perm\n  I don't need a chemical blow to pull a hoe\n  All I need is chemical bank to pay da mo'\n  What, basically that, Meth-Tical, ninety-four style\n  Word up we be hazardous car crashing, horn passing me\n  Northern spicy brown mustard hoes\n  We have to stick you\n\n  Is it real son, is it really real son?\n  Let me know it's real son, if it's really real\n  Something I could feel son, load it up and kill one\n  Want it raw deal son, if it's really real\n\n  I'll fuckin', I'll fuckin' cut your kneecaps off\n  And make you kneel in some staircase piss\n  I'll fuckin', cut your eyelids off\n  And feed you nuthin' but sleepin' pills\n  You motherfuckers\n  So fuck the hoe\n  (So)\n  Fuck the hoe\n"},{"id":28288229,"name":"Bring The Pain","trackName":"Bring The Pain","artistName":"Method Man","albumName":"The Remixes 06 The Chemical Br","duration":360.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Basically\nCan't fuck with me\n\nI came to bring the pain hardcore from the brain\nLet's go inside my astral plane\nFind out my mental, based on instrumental\nRecords, hey, so I can write monumental\nMethods, I'm not the king\nBut niggas is decaf, I stick 'em for the cream\nCheck it, just how deep can shit get\nDeep as the abyss and brothers is mad, fish accept it\n\nIn your Cross Colour clothes, you've crossed over\nThen got Totally Krossed Out and Kris Krossed\nWho the boss? Niggas get tossed to the side\nAnd I'm the dark side of the Force\nOf course it's the Method, Man from the Wu-Tang Clan\nI be hectic, and comin' for the head piece, protect it\nFuck it, two tears in a bucket\nNiggas want the ruckus\nBustin' at me, bruh, now bust it\n\nStyles, I gets buckwild\nMethod Man on some shit, pullin' niggas files, I'm sick\nInsane, crazy, driving Miss Daisy\nOut her fucking mind, now I got mine, I'm Swayze\n\nIs it real, son, is it really real, son?\nLet me know it's real, son, if it's really real\nSomething I could feel, son, load it up and kill one\nWant it raw deal, son, if it's really real, yeah, uh\n\nWhen I was a likle stereo (stereo)\nI listen to some Champion (Champion)\nI always wondered (wondered)\nWhen I will be di number one (Tical)\nAnd now yuh listen to di Gorgon (Gorgon)\nAnd a Gorgon sound a Rein\nAn' any jump and come tes' mi (test me)\nMi a-go lick out dem brain (it's like that)\n\nBrothers wanna hang with the Meth, bring the rope\nThe only way you'll hang is by the neck\nNigga, bolt off the set, comin' to your projects\nTake it as a threat, better yet it's a promise\nComin' from a vet on some old Vietnam shit\nNigga, you can bet your bottom dollar, hey, I bomb shit\nAnd it's gonna get even worse, word to God\nIt's the Wu comin' through, stickin' niggas for they garments\n\nMovin' on your left, southpaw, Mr. Meth\nCame to represent and carve my name in your chest\nYou can come test, realize you're no contest\nSon, I'm the gun that won that old Wild West\nQuick on the draw with my hands on the four-\nNine-three-eleven with the rugged rhymes galore\nCheck it, 'cause I think not when this hip-hops like proper\nRhymes be the proof while I'm drinkin' 90 proof\n\nHuh, vodka, no OJ, no straw\nWhen you give it to me, ayy, give it to me raw\nI've learned that when you drink Absolut straight it burns\nEnough to give my chest hairs a perm\nI don't need a chemical blow to pull a ho\nAll I need is Chemical Bank to pay the roll\n\nWhat, basically that, Meth-Tical, '94 style\n(Northern spicy brown mustard hoes, word up, we be hazardous)\nWe have to stick you\n\nIs it real, son, is it really real, son? (Motherfucker, I'll fuckin')\nLet me know it's real, son, if it's really real\nSomething I could feel, son, load it up and kill one\nWant it raw deal, son, if it's really real\n\nI'll fuckin', I'll fuckin' cut your kneecaps off\nAnd make you kneel at some staircase, piss\nI'll fuckin' cut your eyelids off and feed you nothin' but sleepin' pills\nGet yours, motherfucker\nSo fuck the ho, fuck the ho","syncedLyrics":"[00:00.19] Basically\n[00:02.61] Can't fuck with me\n[00:04.66] I came to bring the pain hardcore from the brain\n[00:07.76] Let's go inside my astral plane\n[00:09.56] Find out my mental, based on instrumental\n[00:11.76] Records, hey, so I can write monumental\n[00:14.19] Methods, I'm not the king\n[00:15.82] But niggas is decaf, I stick 'em for the cream\n[00:18.22] Check it, just how deep can shit get\n[00:20.64] Deep as the abyss and brothers is mad, fish accept it\n[00:23.68] In your Cross Colour clothes, you've crossed over\n[00:25.93] Then got Totally Krossed Out and Kris Krossed\n[00:28.31] Who the boss? Niggas get tossed to the side\n[00:30.62] And I'm the dark side of the Force\n[00:32.43] Of course it's the Method, Man from the Wu-Tang Clan\n[00:35.29] I be hectic, and comin' for the head piece, protect it\n[00:37.77] Fuck it, two tears in a bucket\n[00:39.46] Niggas want the ruckus\n[00:40.69] Bustin' at me, bruh, now bust it\n[00:42.43] Styles, I gets buckwild\n[00:44.07] Method Man on some shit, pullin' niggas files, I'm sick\n[00:47.16] Insane, crazy, driving Miss Daisy\n[00:49.56] Out her fucking mind, now I got mine, I'm Swayze\n[00:51.64] Is it real, son, is it really real, son?\n[00:53.76] Let me know it's real, son, if it's really real\n[00:56.24] Something I could feel, son, load it up and kill one\n[00:58.30] Want it raw deal, son, if it's really real, yeah, uh\n[01:01.57] When I was a likle stereo (stereo)\n[01:03.67] I listen to some Champion (Champion)\n[01:06.02] I always wondered (wondered)\n[01:08.48] When I will be di number one (Tical)\n[01:10.76] And now yuh listen to di Gorgon (Gorgon)\n[01:13.21] And a Gorgon sound a Rein\n[01:15.63] An' any jump and come tes' mi (test me)\n[01:17.82] Mi a-go lick out dem brain (it's like that)\n[01:20.07] Brothers wanna hang with the Meth, bring the rope\n[01:22.50] The only way you'll hang is by the neck\n[01:24.19] Nigga, bolt off the set, comin' to your projects\n[01:26.80] Take it as a threat, better yet it's a promise\n[01:29.03] Comin' from a vet on some old Vietnam shit\n[01:31.44] Nigga, you can bet your bottom dollar, hey, I bomb shit\n[01:33.78] And it's gonna get even worse, word to God\n[01:35.95] It's the Wu comin' through, stickin' niggas for they garments\n[01:38.44] Movin' on your left, southpaw, Mr. Meth\n[01:40.70] Came to represent and carve my name in your chest\n[01:43.10] You can come test, realize you're no contest\n[01:45.62] Son, I'm the gun that won that old Wild West\n[01:47.89] Quick on the draw with my hands on the four-\n[01:50.15] Nine-three-eleven with the rugged rhymes galore\n[01:52.52] Check it, 'cause I think not when this hip-hops like proper\n[01:55.42] Rhymes be the proof while I'm drinkin' 90 proof\n[01:57.63] Huh, vodka, no OJ, no straw\n[02:00.29] When you give it to me, ayy, give it to me raw\n[02:02.57] I've learned that when you drink Absolut straight it burns\n[02:05.46] Enough to give my chest hairs a perm\n[02:07.34] I don't need a chemical blow to pull a ho\n[02:09.62] All I need is Chemical Bank to pay the roll\n[02:12.46] What, basically that, Meth-Tical, '94 style\n[02:16.41] (Northern spicy brown mustard hoes, word up, we be hazardous)\n[02:18.79] We have to stick you\n[02:21.26] Is it real, son, is it really real, son? (Motherfucker, I'll fuckin')\n[02:23.49] Let me know it's real, son, if it's really real\n[02:25.54] Something I could feel, son, load it up and kill one\n[02:27.99] Want it raw deal, son, if it's really real\n[02:30.52] I'll fuckin', I'll fuckin' cut your kneecaps off\n[02:34.96] And make you kneel at some staircase, piss\n[02:38.46] I'll fuckin' cut your eyelids off and feed you nothin' but sleepin' pills\n[02:54.31] Get yours, motherfucker\n[03:01.16] So fuck the ho, fuck the ho\n[03:05.06] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Bring The Pain\n  artist: Method Man\n  album: The Remixes 06 The Chemical Br\n  duration_ms: 360000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Basically\n  start_ms: 190\n  end_ms: 2610\n- text: Can't fuck with me\n  start_ms: 2610\n  end_ms: 4660\n- text: I came to bring the pain hardcore from the brain\n  start_ms: 4660\n  end_ms: 7760\n- text: Let's go inside my astral plane\n  start_ms: 7760\n  end_ms: 9560\n- text: Find out my mental, based on instrumental\n  start_ms: 9560\n  end_ms: 11760\n- text: Records, hey, so I can write monumental\n  start_ms: 11760\n  end_ms: 14190\n- text: Methods, I'm not the king\n  start_ms: 14190\n  end_ms: 15820\n- text: But niggas is decaf, I stick 'em for the cream\n  start_ms: 15820\n  end_ms: 18220\n- text: Check it, just how deep can shit get\n  start_ms: 18220\n  end_ms: 20640\n- text: Deep as the abyss and brothers is mad, fish accept it\n  start_ms: 20640\n  end_ms: 23680\n- text: In your Cross Colour clothes, you've crossed over\n  start_ms: 23680\n  end_ms: 25930\n- text: Then got Totally Krossed Out and Kris Krossed\n  start_ms: 25930\n  end_ms: 28310\n- text: Who the boss? Niggas get tossed to the side\n  start_ms: 28310\n  end_ms: 30620\n- text: And I'm the dark side of the Force\n  start_ms: 30620\n  end_ms: 32430\n- text: Of course it's the Method, Man from the Wu-Tang Clan\n  start_ms: 32430\n  end_ms: 35290\n- text: I be hectic, and comin' for the head piece, protect it\n  start_ms: 35290\n  end_ms: 37770\n- text: Fuck it, two tears in a bucket\n  start_ms: 37770\n  end_ms: 39460\n- text: Niggas want the ruckus\n  start_ms: 39460\n  end_ms: 40690\n- text: Bustin' at me, bruh, now bust it\n  start_ms: 40690\n  end_ms: 42430\n- text: Styles, I gets buckwild\n  start_ms: 42430\n  end_ms: 44070\n- text: Method Man on some shit, pullin' niggas files, I'm sick\n  start_ms: 44070\n  end_ms: 47160\n- text: Insane, crazy, driving Miss Daisy\n  start_ms: 47160\n  end_ms: 49560\n- text: Out her fucking mind, now I got mine, I'm Swayze\n  start_ms: 49560\n  end_ms: 51640\n- text: Is it real, son, is it really real, son?\n  start_ms: 51640\n  end_ms: 53760\n- text: Let me know it's real, son, if it's really real\n  start_ms: 53760\n  end_ms: 56240\n- text: Something I could feel, son, load it up and kill one\n  start_ms: 56240\n  end_ms: 58300\n- text: Want it raw deal, son, if it's really real, yeah, uh\n  start_ms: 58300\n  end_ms: 61570\n- text: When I was a likle stereo (stereo)\n  start_ms: 61570\n  end_ms: 63670\n- text: I listen to some Champion (Champion)\n  start_ms: 63670\n  end_ms: 66020\n- text: I always wondered (wondered)\n  start_ms: 66020\n  end_ms: 68480\n- text: When I will be di number one (Tical)\n  start_ms: 68480\n  end_ms: 70760\n- text: And now yuh listen to di Gorgon (Gorgon)\n  start_ms: 70760\n  end_ms: 73210\n- text: And a Gorgon sound a Rein\n  start_ms: 73210\n  end_ms: 75630\n- text: An' any jump and come tes' mi (test me)\n  start_ms: 75630\n  end_ms: 77820\n- text: Mi a-go lick out dem brain (it's like that)\n  start_ms: 77820\n  end_ms: 80070\n- text: Brothers wanna hang with the Meth, bring the rope\n  start_ms: 80070\n  end_ms: 82500\n- text: The only way you'll hang is by the neck\n  start_ms: 82500\n  end_ms: 84190\n- text: Nigga, bolt off the set, comin' to your projects\n  start_ms: 84190\n  end_ms: 86800\n- text: Take it as a threat, better yet it's a promise\n  start_ms: 86800\n  end_ms: 89030\n- text: Comin' from a vet on some old Vietnam shit\n  start_ms: 89030\n  end_ms: 91440\n- text: Nigga, you can bet your bottom dollar, hey, I bomb shit\n  start_ms: 91440\n  end_ms: 93780\n- text: And it's gonna get even worse, word to God\n  start_ms: 93780\n  end_ms: 95950\n- text: It's the Wu comin' through, stickin' niggas for they garments\n  start_ms: 95950\n  end_ms: 98440\n- text: Movin' on your left, southpaw, Mr. Meth\n  start_ms: 98440\n  end_ms: 100700\n- text: Came to represent and carve my name in your chest\n  start_ms: 100700\n  end_ms: 103100\n- text: You can come test, realize you're no contest\n  start_ms: 103100\n  end_ms: 105620\n- text: Son, I'm the gun that won that old Wild West\n  start_ms: 105620\n  end_ms: 107890\n- text: Quick on the draw with my hands on the four-\n  start_ms: 107890\n  end_ms: 110150\n- text: Nine-three-eleven with the rugged rhymes galore\n  start_ms: 110150\n  end_ms: 112520\n- text: Check it, 'cause I think not when this hip-hops like proper\n  start_ms: 112520\n  end_ms: 115420\n- text: Rhymes be the proof while I'm drinkin' 90 proof\n  start_ms: 115420\n  end_ms: 117630\n- text: Huh, vodka, no OJ, no straw\n  start_ms: 117630\n  end_ms: 120290\n- text: When you give it to me, ayy, give it to me raw\n  start_ms: 120290\n  end_ms: 122570\n- text: I've learned that when you drink Absolut straight it burns\n  start_ms: 122570\n  end_ms: 125460\n- text: Enough to give my chest hairs a perm\n  start_ms: 125460\n  end_ms: 127340\n- text: I don't need a chemical blow to pull a ho\n  start_ms: 127340\n  end_ms: 129620\n- text: All I need is Chemical Bank to pay the roll\n  start_ms: 129620\n  end_ms: 132460\n- text: What, basically that, Meth-Tical, '94 style\n  start_ms: 132460\n  end_ms: 136410\n- text: (Northern spicy brown mustard hoes, word up, we be hazardous)\n  start_ms: 136410\n  end_ms: 138790\n- text: We have to stick you\n  start_ms: 138790\n  end_ms: 141260\n- text: Is it real, son, is it really real, son? (Motherfucker, I'll fuckin')\n  start_ms: 141260\n  end_ms: 143490\n- text: Let me know it's real, son, if it's really real\n  start_ms: 143490\n  end_ms: 145540\n- text: Something I could feel, son, load it up and kill one\n  start_ms: 145540\n  end_ms: 147990\n- text: Want it raw deal, son, if it's really real\n  start_ms: 147990\n  end_ms: 150520\n- text: I'll fuckin', I'll fuckin' cut your kneecaps off\n  start_ms: 150520\n  end_ms: 154960\n- text: And make you kneel at some staircase, piss\n  start_ms: 154960\n  end_ms: 158460\n- text: I'll fuckin' cut your eyelids off and feed you nothin' but sleepin' pills\n  start_ms: 158460\n  end_ms: 174310\n- text: Get yours, motherfucker\n  start_ms: 174310\n  end_ms: 181160\n- text: So fuck the ho, fuck the ho\n  start_ms: 181160\n  end_ms: 185060\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 185060\nplain: |-\n  Basically\n  Can't fuck with me\n\n  I came to bring the pain hardcore from the brain\n  Let's go inside my astral plane\n  Find out my mental, based on instrumental\n  Records, hey, so I can write monumental\n  Methods, I'm not the king\n  But niggas is decaf, I stick 'em for the cream\n  Check it, just how deep can shit get\n  Deep as the abyss and brothers is mad, fish accept it\n\n  In your Cross Colour clothes, you've crossed over\n  Then got Totally Krossed Out and Kris Krossed\n  Who the boss? Niggas get tossed to the side\n  And I'm the dark side of the Force\n  Of course it's the Method, Man from the Wu-Tang Clan\n  I be hectic, and comin' for the head piece, protect it\n  Fuck it, two tears in a bucket\n  Niggas want the ruckus\n  Bustin' at me, bruh, now bust it\n\n  Styles, I gets buckwild\n  Method Man on some shit, pullin' niggas files, I'm sick\n  Insane, crazy, driving Miss Daisy\n  Out her fucking mind, now I got mine, I'm Swayze\n\n  Is it real, son, is it really real, son?\n  Let me know it's real, son, if it's really real\n  Something I could feel, son, load it up and kill one\n  Want it raw deal, son, if it's really real, yeah, uh\n\n  When I was a likle stereo (stereo)\n  I listen to some Champion (Champion)\n  I always wondered (wondered)\n  When I will be di number one (Tical)\n  And now yuh listen to di Gorgon (Gorgon)\n  And a Gorgon sound a Rein\n  An' any jump and come tes' mi (test me)\n  Mi a-go lick out dem brain (it's like that)\n\n  Brothers wanna hang with the Meth, bring the rope\n  The only way you'll hang is by the neck\n  Nigga, bolt off the set, comin' to your projects\n  Take it as a threat, better yet it's a promise\n  Comin' from a vet on some old Vietnam shit\n  Nigga, you can bet your bottom dollar, hey, I bomb shit\n  And it's gonna get even worse, word to God\n  It's the Wu comin' through, stickin' niggas for they garments\n\n  Movin' on your left, southpaw, Mr. Meth\n  Came to represent and carve my name in your chest\n  You can come test, realize you're no contest\n  Son, I'm the gun that won that old Wild West\n  Quick on the draw with my hands on the four-\n  Nine-three-eleven with the rugged rhymes galore\n  Check it, 'cause I think not when this hip-hops like proper\n  Rhymes be the proof while I'm drinkin' 90 proof\n\n  Huh, vodka, no OJ, no straw\n  When you give it to me, ayy, give it to me raw\n  I've learned that when you drink Absolut straight it burns\n  Enough to give my chest hairs a perm\n  I don't need a chemical blow to pull a ho\n  All I need is Chemical Bank to pay the roll\n\n  What, basically that, Meth-Tical, '94 style\n  (Northern spicy brown mustard hoes, word up, we be hazardous)\n  We have to stick you\n\n  Is it real, son, is it really real, son? (Motherfucker, I'll fuckin')\n  Let me know it's real, son, if it's really real\n  Something I could feel, son, load it up and kill one\n  Want it raw deal, son, if it's really real\n\n  I'll fuckin', I'll fuckin' cut your kneecaps off\n  And make you kneel at some staircase, piss\n  I'll fuckin' cut your eyelids off and feed you nothin' but sleepin' pills\n  Get yours, motherfucker\n  So fuck the ho, fuck the ho\n"},{"id":29618052,"name":"Bring the Pain","trackName":"Bring the Pain","artistName":"Method Man","albumName":"The RZA Hits","duration":186.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Basically\nCan't fuck with me\n\nI came to bring the pain hardcore from the brain\nLet's go inside my astral plane\nFind out my mental, based on instrumental\nRecords, hey, so I can write monumental\nMethods, I'm not the king\nBut niggas is decaf, I stick 'em for the cream\nCheck it, just how deep can shit get\nDeep as the abyss and brothers is mad, fish accept it\n\nIn your Cross Colour clothes, you've crossed over\nThen got Totally Krossed Out and Kris Krossed\nWho the boss? Niggas get tossed to the side\nAnd I'm the dark side of the Force\nOf course it's the Method, Man from the Wu-Tang Clan\nI be hectic, and comin' for the head piece, protect it\nFuck it, two tears in a bucket\nNiggas want the ruckus\nBustin' at me, bruh, now bust it\n\nStyles, I gets buckwild\nMethod Man on some shit, pullin' niggas files, I'm sick\nInsane, crazy, driving Miss Daisy\nOut her fucking mind, now I got mine, I'm Swayze\n\nIs it real, son, is it really real, son?\nLet me know it's real, son, if it's really real\nSomething I could feel, son, load it up and kill one\nWant it raw deal, son, if it's really real, yeah, uh\n\nWhen I was a likle stereo (stereo)\nI listen to some Champion (Champion)\nI always wondered (wondered)\nWhen I will be di number one (Tical)\nAnd now yuh listen to di Gorgon (Gorgon)\nAnd a Gorgon sound a Rein\nAn' any jump and come tes' mi (test me)\nMi a-go lick out dem brain (it's like that)\n\nBrothers wanna hang with the Meth, bring the rope\nThe only way you'll hang is by the neck\nNigga, bolt off the set, comin' to your projects\nTake it as a threat, better yet it's a promise\nComin' from a vet on some old Vietnam shit\nNigga, you can bet your bottom dollar, hey, I bomb shit\nAnd it's gonna get even worse, word to God\nIt's the Wu comin' through, stickin' niggas for they garments\n\nMovin' on your left, southpaw, Mr. Meth\nCame to represent and carve my name in your chest\nYou can come test, realize you're no contest\nSon, I'm the gun that won that old Wild West\nQuick on the draw with my hands on the four-\nNine-three-eleven with the rugged rhymes galore\nCheck it, 'cause I think not when this hip-hops like proper\nRhymes be the proof while I'm drinkin' 90 proof\n\nHuh, vodka, no OJ, no straw\nWhen you give it to me, ayy, give it to me raw\nI've learned that when you drink Absolut straight it burns\nEnough to give my chest hairs a perm\nI don't need a chemical blow to pull a ho\nAll I need is Chemical Bank to pay the roll\n\nWhat, basically that, Meth-Tical, '94 style\n(Northern spicy brown mustard hoes, word up, we be hazardous)\nWe have to stick you\n\nIs it real, son, is it really real, son? (Motherfucker, I'll fuckin')\nLet me know it's real, son, if it's really real\nSomething I could feel, son, load it up and kill one\nWant it raw deal, son, if it's really real\n\nI'll fuckin', I'll fuckin' cut your kneecaps off\nAnd make you kneel at some staircase, piss\nI'll fuckin' cut your eyelids off and feed you nothin' but sleepin' pills\nGet yours, motherfucker\nSo fuck the ho, fuck the ho","syncedLyrics":"[00:00.19] Basically\n[00:02.61] Can't fuck with me\n[00:04.66] I came to bring the pain hardcore from the brain\n[00:07.76] Let's go inside my astral plane\n[00:09.56] Find out my mental, based on instrumental\n[00:11.76] Records, hey, so I can write monumental\n[00:14.19] Methods, I'm not the king\n[00:15.82] But niggas is decaf, I stick 'em for the cream\n[00:18.22] Check it, just how deep can shit get\n[00:20.64] Deep as the abyss and brothers is mad, fish accept it\n[00:23.68] In your Cross Colour clothes, you've crossed over\n[00:25.93] Then got Totally Krossed Out and Kris Krossed\n[00:28.31] Who the boss? Niggas get tossed to the side\n[00:30.62] And I'm the dark side of the Force\n[00:32.43] Of course it's the Method, Man from the Wu-Tang Clan\n[00:35.29] I be hectic, and comin' for the head piece, protect it\n[00:37.77] Fuck it, two tears in a bucket\n[00:39.46] Niggas want the ruckus\n[00:40.69] Bustin' at me, bruh, now bust it\n[00:42.43] Styles, I gets buckwild\n[00:44.07] Method Man on some shit, pullin' niggas files, I'm sick\n[00:47.16] Insane, crazy, driving Miss Daisy\n[00:49.56] Out her fucking mind, now I got mine, I'm Swayze\n[00:51.64] Is it real, son, is it really real, son?\n[00:53.76] Let me know it's real, son, if it's really real\n[00:56.24] Something I could feel, son, load it up and kill one\n[00:58.30] Want it raw deal, son, if it's really real, yeah, uh\n[01:01.57] When I was a likle stereo (stereo)\n[01:03.67] I listen to some Champion (Champion)\n[01:06.02] I always wondered (wondered)\n[01:08.48] When I will be di number one (Tical)\n[01:10.76] And now yuh listen to di Gorgon (Gorgon)\n[01:13.21] And a Gorgon sound a Rein\n[01:15.63] An' any jump and come tes' mi (test me)\n[01:17.82] Mi a-go lick out dem brain (it's like that)\n[01:20.07] Brothers wanna hang with the Meth, bring the rope\n[01:22.50] The only way you'll hang is by the neck\n[01:24.19] Nigga, bolt off the set, comin' to your projects\n[01:26.80] Take it as a threat, better yet it's a promise\n[01:29.03] Comin' from a vet on some old Vietnam shit\n[01:31.44] Nigga, you can bet your bottom dollar, hey, I bomb shit\n[01:33.78] And it's gonna get even worse, word to God\n[01:35.95] It's the Wu comin' through, stickin' niggas for they garments\n[01:38.44] Movin' on your left, southpaw, Mr. Meth\n[01:40.70] Came to represent and carve my name in your chest\n[01:43.10] You can come test, realize you're no contest\n[01:45.62] Son, I'm the gun that won that old Wild West\n[01:47.89] Quick on the draw with my hands on the four-\n[01:50.15] Nine-three-eleven with the rugged rhymes galore\n[01:52.52] Check it, 'cause I think not when this hip-hops like proper\n[01:55.42] Rhymes be the proof while I'm drinkin' 90 proof\n[01:57.63] Huh, vodka, no OJ, no straw\n[02:00.29] When you give it to me, ayy, give it to me raw\n[02:02.57] I've learned that when you drink Absolut straight it burns\n[02:05.46] Enough to give my chest hairs a perm\n[02:07.34] I don't need a chemical blow to pull a ho\n[02:09.62] All I need is Chemical Bank to pay the roll\n[02:12.46] What, basically that, Meth-Tical, '94 style\n[02:16.41] (Northern spicy brown mustard hoes, word up, we be hazardous)\n[02:18.79] We have to stick you\n[02:21.26] Is it real, son, is it really real, son? (Motherfucker, I'll fuckin')\n[02:23.49] Let me know it's real, son, if it's really real\n[02:25.54] Something I could feel, son, load it up and kill one\n[02:27.99] Want it raw deal, son, if it's really real\n[02:30.52] I'll fuckin', I'll fuckin' cut your kneecaps off\n[02:34.96] And make you kneel at some staircase, piss\n[02:38.46] I'll fuckin' cut your eyelids off and feed you nothin' but sleepin' pills\n[02:54.31] Get yours, motherfucker\n[03:01.16] So fuck the ho, fuck the ho\n[03:05.06] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Bring the Pain\n  artist: Method Man\n  album: The RZA Hits\n  duration_ms: 186000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Basically\n  start_ms: 190\n  end_ms: 2610\n- text: Can't fuck with me\n  start_ms: 2610\n  end_ms: 4660\n- text: I came to bring the pain hardcore from the brain\n  start_ms: 4660\n  end_ms: 7760\n- text: Let's go inside my astral plane\n  start_ms: 7760\n  end_ms: 9560\n- text: Find out my mental, based on instrumental\n  start_ms: 9560\n  end_ms: 11760\n- text: Records, hey, so I can write monumental\n  start_ms: 11760\n  end_ms: 14190\n- text: Methods, I'm not the king\n  start_ms: 14190\n  end_ms: 15820\n- text: But niggas is decaf, I stick 'em for the cream\n  start_ms: 15820\n  end_ms: 18220\n- text: Check it, just how deep can shit get\n  start_ms: 18220\n  end_ms: 20640\n- text: Deep as the abyss and brothers is mad, fish accept it\n  start_ms: 20640\n  end_ms: 23680\n- text: In your Cross Colour clothes, you've crossed over\n  start_ms: 23680\n  end_ms: 25930\n- text: Then got Totally Krossed Out and Kris Krossed\n  start_ms: 25930\n  end_ms: 28310\n- text: Who the boss? Niggas get tossed to the side\n  start_ms: 28310\n  end_ms: 30620\n- text: And I'm the dark side of the Force\n  start_ms: 30620\n  end_ms: 32430\n- text: Of course it's the Method, Man from the Wu-Tang Clan\n  start_ms: 32430\n  end_ms: 35290\n- text: I be hectic, and comin' for the head piece, protect it\n  start_ms: 35290\n  end_ms: 37770\n- text: Fuck it, two tears in a bucket\n  start_ms: 37770\n  end_ms: 39460\n- text: Niggas want the ruckus\n  start_ms: 39460\n  end_ms: 40690\n- text: Bustin' at me, bruh, now bust it\n  start_ms: 40690\n  end_ms: 42430\n- text: Styles, I gets buckwild\n  start_ms: 42430\n  end_ms: 44070\n- text: Method Man on some shit, pullin' niggas files, I'm sick\n  start_ms: 44070\n  end_ms: 47160\n- text: Insane, crazy, driving Miss Daisy\n  start_ms: 47160\n  end_ms: 49560\n- text: Out her fucking mind, now I got mine, I'm Swayze\n  start_ms: 49560\n  end_ms: 51640\n- text: Is it real, son, is it really real, son?\n  start_ms: 51640\n  end_ms: 53760\n- text: Let me know it's real, son, if it's really real\n  start_ms: 53760\n  end_ms: 56240\n- text: Something I could feel, son, load it up and kill one\n  start_ms: 56240\n  end_ms: 58300\n- text: Want it raw deal, son, if it's really real, yeah, uh\n  start_ms: 58300\n  end_ms: 61570\n- text: When I was a likle stereo (stereo)\n  start_ms: 61570\n  end_ms: 63670\n- text: I listen to some Champion (Champion)\n  start_ms: 63670\n  end_ms: 66020\n- text: I always wondered (wondered)\n  start_ms: 66020\n  end_ms: 68480\n- text: When I will be di number one (Tical)\n  start_ms: 68480\n  end_ms: 70760\n- text: And now yuh listen to di Gorgon (Gorgon)\n  start_ms: 70760\n  end_ms: 73210\n- text: And a Gorgon sound a Rein\n  start_ms: 73210\n  end_ms: 75630\n- text: An' any jump and come tes' mi (test me)\n  start_ms: 75630\n  end_ms: 77820\n- text: Mi a-go lick out dem brain (it's like that)\n  start_ms: 77820\n  end_ms: 80070\n- text: Brothers wanna hang with the Meth, bring the rope\n  start_ms: 80070\n  end_ms: 82500\n- text: The only way you'll hang is by the neck\n  start_ms: 82500\n  end_ms: 84190\n- text: Nigga, bolt off the set, comin' to your projects\n  start_ms: 84190\n  end_ms: 86800\n- text: Take it as a threat, better yet it's a promise\n  start_ms: 86800\n  end_ms: 89030\n- text: Comin' from a vet on some old Vietnam shit\n  start_ms: 89030\n  end_ms: 91440\n- text: Nigga, you can bet your bottom dollar, hey, I bomb shit\n  start_ms: 91440\n  end_ms: 93780\n- text: And it's gonna get even worse, word to God\n  start_ms: 93780\n  end_ms: 95950\n- text: It's the Wu comin' through, stickin' niggas for they garments\n  start_ms: 95950\n  end_ms: 98440\n- text: Movin' on your left, southpaw, Mr. Meth\n  start_ms: 98440\n  end_ms: 100700\n- text: Came to represent and carve my name in your chest\n  start_ms: 100700\n  end_ms: 103100\n- text: You can come test, realize you're no contest\n  start_ms: 103100\n  end_ms: 105620\n- text: Son, I'm the gun that won that old Wild West\n  start_ms: 105620\n  end_ms: 107890\n- text: Quick on the draw with my hands on the four-\n  start_ms: 107890\n  end_ms: 110150\n- text: Nine-three-eleven with the rugged rhymes galore\n  start_ms: 110150\n  end_ms: 112520\n- text: Check it, 'cause I think not when this hip-hops like proper\n  start_ms: 112520\n  end_ms: 115420\n- text: Rhymes be the proof while I'm drinkin' 90 proof\n  start_ms: 115420\n  end_ms: 117630\n- text: Huh, vodka, no OJ, no straw\n  start_ms: 117630\n  end_ms: 120290\n- text: When you give it to me, ayy, give it to me raw\n  start_ms: 120290\n  end_ms: 122570\n- text: I've learned that when you drink Absolut straight it burns\n  start_ms: 122570\n  end_ms: 125460\n- text: Enough to give my chest hairs a perm\n  start_ms: 125460\n  end_ms: 127340\n- text: I don't need a chemical blow to pull a ho\n  start_ms: 127340\n  end_ms: 129620\n- text: All I need is Chemical Bank to pay the roll\n  start_ms: 129620\n  end_ms: 132460\n- text: What, basically that, Meth-Tical, '94 style\n  start_ms: 132460\n  end_ms: 136410\n- text: (Northern spicy brown mustard hoes, word up, we be hazardous)\n  start_ms: 136410\n  end_ms: 138790\n- text: We have to stick you\n  start_ms: 138790\n  end_ms: 141260\n- text: Is it real, son, is it really real, son? (Motherfucker, I'll fuckin')\n  start_ms: 141260\n  end_ms: 143490\n- text: Let me know it's real, son, if it's really real\n  start_ms: 143490\n  end_ms: 145540\n- text: Something I could feel, son, load it up and kill one\n  start_ms: 145540\n  end_ms: 147990\n- text: Want it raw deal, son, if it's really real\n  start_ms: 147990\n  end_ms: 150520\n- text: I'll fuckin', I'll fuckin' cut your kneecaps off\n  start_ms: 150520\n  end_ms: 154960\n- text: And make you kneel at some staircase, piss\n  start_ms: 154960\n  end_ms: 158460\n- text: I'll fuckin' cut your eyelids off and feed you nothin' but sleepin' pills\n  start_ms: 158460\n  end_ms: 174310\n- text: Get yours, motherfucker\n  start_ms: 174310\n  end_ms: 181160\n- text: So fuck the ho, fuck the ho\n  start_ms: 181160\n  end_ms: 185060\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 185060\nplain: |-\n  Basically\n  Can't fuck with me\n\n  I came to bring the pain hardcore from the brain\n  Let's go inside my astral plane\n  Find out my mental, based on instrumental\n  Records, hey, so I can write monumental\n  Methods, I'm not the king\n  But niggas is decaf, I stick 'em for the cream\n  Check it, just how deep can shit get\n  Deep as the abyss and brothers is mad, fish accept it\n\n  In your Cross Colour clothes, you've crossed over\n  Then got Totally Krossed Out and Kris Krossed\n  Who the boss? Niggas get tossed to the side\n  And I'm the dark side of the Force\n  Of course it's the Method, Man from the Wu-Tang Clan\n  I be hectic, and comin' for the head piece, protect it\n  Fuck it, two tears in a bucket\n  Niggas want the ruckus\n  Bustin' at me, bruh, now bust it\n\n  Styles, I gets buckwild\n  Method Man on some shit, pullin' niggas files, I'm sick\n  Insane, crazy, driving Miss Daisy\n  Out her fucking mind, now I got mine, I'm Swayze\n\n  Is it real, son, is it really real, son?\n  Let me know it's real, son, if it's really real\n  Something I could feel, son, load it up and kill one\n  Want it raw deal, son, if it's really real, yeah, uh\n\n  When I was a likle stereo (stereo)\n  I listen to some Champion (Champion)\n  I always wondered (wondered)\n  When I will be di number one (Tical)\n  And now yuh listen to di Gorgon (Gorgon)\n  And a Gorgon sound a Rein\n  An' any jump and come tes' mi (test me)\n  Mi a-go lick out dem brain (it's like that)\n\n  Brothers wanna hang with the Meth, bring the rope\n  The only way you'll hang is by the neck\n  Nigga, bolt off the set, comin' to your projects\n  Take it as a threat, better yet it's a promise\n  Comin' from a vet on some old Vietnam shit\n  Nigga, you can bet your bottom dollar, hey, I bomb shit\n  And it's gonna get even worse, word to God\n  It's the Wu comin' through, stickin' niggas for they garments\n\n  Movin' on your left, southpaw, Mr. Meth\n  Came to represent and carve my name in your chest\n  You can come test, realize you're no contest\n  Son, I'm the gun that won that old Wild West\n  Quick on the draw with my hands on the four-\n  Nine-three-eleven with the rugged rhymes galore\n  Check it, 'cause I think not when this hip-hops like proper\n  Rhymes be the proof while I'm drinkin' 90 proof\n\n  Huh, vodka, no OJ, no straw\n  When you give it to me, ayy, give it to me raw\n  I've learned that when you drink Absolut straight it burns\n  Enough to give my chest hairs a perm\n  I don't need a chemical blow to pull a ho\n  All I need is Chemical Bank to pay the roll\n\n  What, basically that, Meth-Tical, '94 style\n  (Northern spicy brown mustard hoes, word up, we be hazardous)\n  We have to stick you\n\n  Is it real, son, is it really real, son? (Motherfucker, I'll fuckin')\n  Let me know it's real, son, if it's really real\n  Something I could feel, son, load it up and kill one\n  Want it raw deal, son, if it's really real\n\n  I'll fuckin', I'll fuckin' cut your kneecaps off\n  And make you kneel at some staircase, piss\n  I'll fuckin' cut your eyelids off and feed you nothin' but sleepin' pills\n  Get yours, motherfucker\n  So fuck the ho, fuck the ho\n"}]