[{"id":39017844,"name":"Built for This","trackName":"Built for This","artistName":"Method Man","albumName":"Built for This (Music from The Man with the Iron Fists Soundtrack)","duration":264.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Sort of like Malcolm at the Audubon\nThey coming for me, time is money no Audemar\nSee bar-for-bar, I keep it pushing no R&R\nNo foreign broads and no promotion for foreign cars\nThe game is ours, let's keep it funky who said he was\nLike Staten Island, Italians bleed spaghetti sauce\nIf y'all ain't shaking or stacking than y'all already lost\nAlready cross the light, Christ I'm ready for em\nPlus anybody that saying no, I'm taking numbers\nI'm taking names, I'll take your chain take this hunger\nPain, pain, pain\nThen you feel the thunder and rain I don't talk it like the rainbow\nI get it done and the game y'all\nDo me a favor, don't ever play with my ball\nNever been a player-hater I just ain't playing with y'all\nYou watching lame but look I'm taking the charge\nGoing hard will get you two shots now I'm facing the charge\n\nFire up the la let's go take a ride\nThey might catch you by surprise if you let em slide\nBut if you're built for this shit then you might survive\nGuess I'll see you when you wake up on the other side\n\nSort of like Mike at the United Center\nMadison Square, Boston Garden I straight ignite on niggas\nLil' nigga your raps ain't no fire, that shit'll collapse so don't try\nI scribble and scratch down in my pad that no lie\nThat no fake, that uncut, that straight drop, what the fuck\nI'm pulled over by the jakes, a twenty-eight up in my nuts\nFor em took away in cuffs I'd rather lay up in the dust\nFeel like fuck a friend a hundred million haters ain't enough\nTwist it up\nLife is a blunt and the world is my ash tray\nI got them quarters and them halves just meet me like halfway\nAnd I need a hundred percent of my profit ain't fucking with half pay\nAin't taking no shorts or losses bitch we ain't fronting no tag day\nAs I can recollect, praying to God this dope'll stretch\nTurn mobster warners, work these corners like P90X\nChilling and waiting, patient retaliation just ain't find me yet\nI'll take it into Heaven, you couldn't buy me that, remind me that\n\nIt's the world's worst, quick to snatch your man purse\nAnd leave your body head first in the stretched hearse\nMurder she wrote, I'm known to spit a killer verse\nAnd leave a player blood spilling on his linen shirt\nYou can Google my name but you ain't gotta search\nI'm right here in the streets, I'm putting in work\nGo ahead, fuck around and get your feelings hurt\nOr, you can get carried outta your local church\nI'm from the old school, I do my own dirt\nMama raised no fool, I did my own work\nKeep your wifey close, she's a little flirt\nI knew her since '03, I hit the bitch first\nI'm the reason why your baby mama water burst\nI've been marvelous since birth, you can ask my Earth\nIt's not a problem to show you how the shotty work\nI put your body in the dirt, but what the dollars worth","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Built for This\n  artist: Method Man\n  album: Built for This (Music from The Man with the Iron Fists Soundtrack)\n  duration_ms: 264000\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  Sort of like Malcolm at the Audubon\n  They coming for me, time is money no Audemar\n  See bar-for-bar, I keep it pushing no R&R\n  No foreign broads and no promotion for foreign cars\n  The game is ours, let's keep it funky who said he was\n  Like Staten Island, Italians bleed spaghetti sauce\n  If y'all ain't shaking or stacking than y'all already lost\n  Already cross the light, Christ I'm ready for em\n  Plus anybody that saying no, I'm taking numbers\n  I'm taking names, I'll take your chain take this hunger\n  Pain, pain, pain\n  Then you feel the thunder and rain I don't talk it like the rainbow\n  I get it done and the game y'all\n  Do me a favor, don't ever play with my ball\n  Never been a player-hater I just ain't playing with y'all\n  You watching lame but look I'm taking the charge\n  Going hard will get you two shots now I'm facing the charge\n\n  Fire up the la let's go take a ride\n  They might catch you by surprise if you let em slide\n  But if you're built for this shit then you might survive\n  Guess I'll see you when you wake up on the other side\n\n  Sort of like Mike at the United Center\n  Madison Square, Boston Garden I straight ignite on niggas\n  Lil' nigga your raps ain't no fire, that shit'll collapse so don't try\n  I scribble and scratch down in my pad that no lie\n  That no fake, that uncut, that straight drop, what the fuck\n  I'm pulled over by the jakes, a twenty-eight up in my nuts\n  For em took away in cuffs I'd rather lay up in the dust\n  Feel like fuck a friend a hundred million haters ain't enough\n  Twist it up\n  Life is a blunt and the world is my ash tray\n  I got them quarters and them halves just meet me like halfway\n  And I need a hundred percent of my profit ain't fucking with half pay\n  Ain't taking no shorts or losses bitch we ain't fronting no tag day\n  As I can recollect, praying to God this dope'll stretch\n  Turn mobster warners, work these corners like P90X\n  Chilling and waiting, patient retaliation just ain't find me yet\n  I'll take it into Heaven, you couldn't buy me that, remind me that\n\n  It's the world's worst, quick to snatch your man purse\n  And leave your body head first in the stretched hearse\n  Murder she wrote, I'm known to spit a killer verse\n  And leave a player blood spilling on his linen shirt\n  You can Google my name but you ain't gotta search\n  I'm right here in the streets, I'm putting in work\n  Go ahead, fuck around and get your feelings hurt\n  Or, you can get carried outta your local church\n  I'm from the old school, I do my own dirt\n  Mama raised no fool, I did my own work\n  Keep your wifey close, she's a little flirt\n  I knew her since '03, I hit the bitch first\n  I'm the reason why your baby mama water burst\n  I've been marvelous since birth, you can ask my Earth\n  It's not a problem to show you how the shotty work\n  I put your body in the dirt, but what the dollars worth\n"},{"id":30486099,"name":"Built For This","trackName":"Built For This","artistName":"Method Man, Freddie Gibbs & Street Life","albumName":"Built For This (Fan Album)","duration":265.0,"instrumental":true,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":null,"syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Built For This\n  artist: Method Man, Freddie Gibbs & Street Life\n  album: Built For This (Fan Album)\n  duration_ms: 265000\n  instrumental: true\nlines: []\n"},{"id":35846971,"name":"Built for This","trackName":"Built for This","artistName":"Method Man, Freddie Gibbs, Streetlife","albumName":"Built for This (Music from The Man with the Iron Fists Soundtrack)","duration":264.0,"instrumental":true,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":null,"syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Built for This\n  artist: Method Man, Freddie Gibbs, Streetlife\n  album: Built for This (Music from The Man with the Iron Fists Soundtrack)\n  duration_ms: 264000\n  instrumental: true\nlines: []\n"},{"id":35846988,"name":"Built for This","trackName":"Built for This","artistName":"Method Man, Freddie Gibbs, Streetlife","albumName":"Built for This (Music from The Man with the Iron Fists Soundtrack)","duration":267.0,"instrumental":true,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":null,"syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Built for This\n  artist: Method Man, Freddie Gibbs, Streetlife\n  album: Built for This (Music from The Man with the Iron Fists Soundtrack)\n  duration_ms: 267000\n  instrumental: true\nlines: []\n"},{"id":9030931,"name":"Built For This","trackName":"Built For This","artistName":"Method Man","albumName":"The Man With The Iron Fists","duration":263.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Sort of like Malcolm at the Audubon\nThey coming for me, time is money no Audemar\nSee bar-for-bar, I keep it pushing no R&R\nNo foreign broads and no promotion for foreign cars\nThe game is ours, let's keep it funky who said he was\nLike Staten Island, Italians bleed spaghetti sauce\nIf y'all ain't shaking or stacking than y'all already lost\nAlready cross the light, Christ I'm ready for em\nPlus anybody that saying no, I'm taking numbers\nI'm taking names, I'll take your chain take this hunger\nPain, pain, pain\nThen you feel the thunder and rain I don't talk it like the rainbow\nI get it done and the game y'all\nDo me a favor, don't ever play with my ball\nNever been a player-hater I just ain't playing with y'all\nYou watching lame but look I'm taking the charge\nGoing hard will get you two shots now I'm facing the charge\n\nFire up the la let's go take a ride\nThey might catch you by surprise if you let em slide\nBut if you're built for this shit then you might survive\nGuess I'll see you when you wake up on the other side\n\nSort of like Mike at the United Center\nMadison Square, Boston Garden I straight ignite on niggas\nLil' nigga your raps ain't no fire, that shit'll collapse so don't try\nI scribble and scratch down in my pad that no lie\nThat no fake, that uncut, that straight drop, what the fuck\nI'm pulled over by the jakes, a twenty-eight up in my nuts\nFor em took away in cuffs I'd rather lay up in the dust\nFeel like fuck a friend a hundred million haters ain't enough\nTwist it up\nLife is a blunt and the world is my ash tray\nI got them quarters and them halves just meet me like halfway\nAnd I need a hundred percent of my profit ain't fucking with half pay\nAin't taking no shorts or losses bitch we ain't fronting no tag day\nAs I can recollect, praying to God this dope'll stretch\nTurn mobster warners, work these corners like P90X\nChilling and waiting, patient retaliation just ain't find me yet\nI'll take it into Heaven, you couldn't buy me that, remind me that\n\nIt's the world's worst, quick to snatch your man purse\nAnd leave your body head first in the stretched hearse\nMurder she wrote, I'm known to spit a killer verse\nAnd leave a player blood spilling on his linen shirt\nYou can Google my name but you ain't gotta search\nI'm right here in the streets, I'm putting in work\nGo ahead, fuck around and get your feelings hurt\nOr, you can get carried outta your local church\nI'm from the old school, I do my own dirt\nMama raised no fool, I did my own work\nKeep your wifey close, she's a little flirt\nI knew her since '03, I hit the bitch first\nI'm the reason why your baby mama water burst\nI've been marvelous since birth, you can ask my Earth\nIt's not a problem to show you how the shotty work\nI put your body in the dirt, but what the dollars worth","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Built For This\n  artist: Method Man\n  album: The Man With The Iron Fists\n  duration_ms: 263000\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  Sort of like Malcolm at the Audubon\n  They coming for me, time is money no Audemar\n  See bar-for-bar, I keep it pushing no R&R\n  No foreign broads and no promotion for foreign cars\n  The game is ours, let's keep it funky who said he was\n  Like Staten Island, Italians bleed spaghetti sauce\n  If y'all ain't shaking or stacking than y'all already lost\n  Already cross the light, Christ I'm ready for em\n  Plus anybody that saying no, I'm taking numbers\n  I'm taking names, I'll take your chain take this hunger\n  Pain, pain, pain\n  Then you feel the thunder and rain I don't talk it like the rainbow\n  I get it done and the game y'all\n  Do me a favor, don't ever play with my ball\n  Never been a player-hater I just ain't playing with y'all\n  You watching lame but look I'm taking the charge\n  Going hard will get you two shots now I'm facing the charge\n\n  Fire up the la let's go take a ride\n  They might catch you by surprise if you let em slide\n  But if you're built for this shit then you might survive\n  Guess I'll see you when you wake up on the other side\n\n  Sort of like Mike at the United Center\n  Madison Square, Boston Garden I straight ignite on niggas\n  Lil' nigga your raps ain't no fire, that shit'll collapse so don't try\n  I scribble and scratch down in my pad that no lie\n  That no fake, that uncut, that straight drop, what the fuck\n  I'm pulled over by the jakes, a twenty-eight up in my nuts\n  For em took away in cuffs I'd rather lay up in the dust\n  Feel like fuck a friend a hundred million haters ain't enough\n  Twist it up\n  Life is a blunt and the world is my ash tray\n  I got them quarters and them halves just meet me like halfway\n  And I need a hundred percent of my profit ain't fucking with half pay\n  Ain't taking no shorts or losses bitch we ain't fronting no tag day\n  As I can recollect, praying to God this dope'll stretch\n  Turn mobster warners, work these corners like P90X\n  Chilling and waiting, patient retaliation just ain't find me yet\n  I'll take it into Heaven, you couldn't buy me that, remind me that\n\n  It's the world's worst, quick to snatch your man purse\n  And leave your body head first in the stretched hearse\n  Murder she wrote, I'm known to spit a killer verse\n  And leave a player blood spilling on his linen shirt\n  You can Google my name but you ain't gotta search\n  I'm right here in the streets, I'm putting in work\n  Go ahead, fuck around and get your feelings hurt\n  Or, you can get carried outta your local church\n  I'm from the old school, I do my own dirt\n  Mama raised no fool, I did my own work\n  Keep your wifey close, she's a little flirt\n  I knew her since '03, I hit the bitch first\n  I'm the reason why your baby mama water burst\n  I've been marvelous since birth, you can ask my Earth\n  It's not a problem to show you how the shotty work\n  I put your body in the dirt, but what the dollars worth\n"},{"id":37909225,"name":"Built For This","trackName":"Built For This","artistName":"Method Man","albumName":"The Man With The Iron Fists Soundtrack","duration":265.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Sort of like Malcolm at the Audubon\nThey coming for me, time is money no Audemar\nSee bar-for-bar, I keep it pushing no R&R\nNo foreign broads and no promotion for foreign cars\nThe game is ours, let's keep it funky who said he was\nLike Staten Island, Italians bleed spaghetti sauce\nIf y'all ain't shaking or stacking than y'all already lost\nAlready cross the light, Christ I'm ready for em\nPlus anybody that saying no, I'm taking numbers\nI'm taking names, I'll take your chain take this hunger\nPain, pain, pain\nThen you feel the thunder and rain I don't talk it like the rainbow\nI get it done and the game y'all\nDo me a favor, don't ever play with my ball\nNever been a player-hater I just ain't playing with y'all\nYou watching lame but look I'm taking the charge\nGoing hard will get you two shots now I'm facing the charge\n\nFire up the la let's go take a ride\nThey might catch you by surprise if you let em slide\nBut if you're built for this shit then you might survive\nGuess I'll see you when you wake up on the other side\n\nSort of like Mike at the United Center\nMadison Square, Boston Garden I straight ignite on niggas\nLil' nigga your raps ain't no fire, that shit'll collapse so don't try\nI scribble and scratch down in my pad that no lie\nThat no fake, that uncut, that straight drop, what the fuck\nI'm pulled over by the jakes, a twenty-eight up in my nuts\nFor em took away in cuffs I'd rather lay up in the dust\nFeel like fuck a friend a hundred million haters ain't enough\nTwist it up\nLife is a blunt and the world is my ash tray\nI got them quarters and them halves just meet me like halfway\nAnd I need a hundred percent of my profit ain't fucking with half pay\nAin't taking no shorts or losses bitch we ain't fronting no tag day\nAs I can recollect, praying to God this dope'll stretch\nTurn mobster warners, work these corners like P90X\nChilling and waiting, patient retaliation just ain't find me yet\nI'll take it into Heaven, you couldn't buy me that, remind me that\n\nIt's the world's worst, quick to snatch your man purse\nAnd leave your body head first in the stretched hearse\nMurder she wrote, I'm known to spit a killer verse\nAnd leave a player blood spilling on his linen shirt\nYou can Google my name but you ain't gotta search\nI'm right here in the streets, I'm putting in work\nGo ahead, fuck around and get your feelings hurt\nOr, you can get carried outta your local church\nI'm from the old school, I do my own dirt\nMama raised no fool, I did my own work\nKeep your wifey close, she's a little flirt\nI knew her since '03, I hit the bitch first\nI'm the reason why your baby mama water burst\nI've been marvelous since birth, you can ask my Earth\nIt's not a problem to show you how the shotty work\nI put your body in the dirt, but what the dollars worth","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Built For This\n  artist: Method Man\n  album: The Man With The Iron Fists Soundtrack\n  duration_ms: 265000\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  Sort of like Malcolm at the Audubon\n  They coming for me, time is money no Audemar\n  See bar-for-bar, I keep it pushing no R&R\n  No foreign broads and no promotion for foreign cars\n  The game is ours, let's keep it funky who said he was\n  Like Staten Island, Italians bleed spaghetti sauce\n  If y'all ain't shaking or stacking than y'all already lost\n  Already cross the light, Christ I'm ready for em\n  Plus anybody that saying no, I'm taking numbers\n  I'm taking names, I'll take your chain take this hunger\n  Pain, pain, pain\n  Then you feel the thunder and rain I don't talk it like the rainbow\n  I get it done and the game y'all\n  Do me a favor, don't ever play with my ball\n  Never been a player-hater I just ain't playing with y'all\n  You watching lame but look I'm taking the charge\n  Going hard will get you two shots now I'm facing the charge\n\n  Fire up the la let's go take a ride\n  They might catch you by surprise if you let em slide\n  But if you're built for this shit then you might survive\n  Guess I'll see you when you wake up on the other side\n\n  Sort of like Mike at the United Center\n  Madison Square, Boston Garden I straight ignite on niggas\n  Lil' nigga your raps ain't no fire, that shit'll collapse so don't try\n  I scribble and scratch down in my pad that no lie\n  That no fake, that uncut, that straight drop, what the fuck\n  I'm pulled over by the jakes, a twenty-eight up in my nuts\n  For em took away in cuffs I'd rather lay up in the dust\n  Feel like fuck a friend a hundred million haters ain't enough\n  Twist it up\n  Life is a blunt and the world is my ash tray\n  I got them quarters and them halves just meet me like halfway\n  And I need a hundred percent of my profit ain't fucking with half pay\n  Ain't taking no shorts or losses bitch we ain't fronting no tag day\n  As I can recollect, praying to God this dope'll stretch\n  Turn mobster warners, work these corners like P90X\n  Chilling and waiting, patient retaliation just ain't find me yet\n  I'll take it into Heaven, you couldn't buy me that, remind me that\n\n  It's the world's worst, quick to snatch your man purse\n  And leave your body head first in the stretched hearse\n  Murder she wrote, I'm known to spit a killer verse\n  And leave a player blood spilling on his linen shirt\n  You can Google my name but you ain't gotta search\n  I'm right here in the streets, I'm putting in work\n  Go ahead, fuck around and get your feelings hurt\n  Or, you can get carried outta your local church\n  I'm from the old school, I do my own dirt\n  Mama raised no fool, I did my own work\n  Keep your wifey close, she's a little flirt\n  I knew her since '03, I hit the bitch first\n  I'm the reason why your baby mama water burst\n  I've been marvelous since birth, you can ask my Earth\n  It's not a problem to show you how the shotty work\n  I put your body in the dirt, but what the dollars worth\n"},{"id":12192335,"name":"Built for This","trackName":"Built for This","artistName":"Method Man","albumName":"The Man with the Iron Fists (Original Motion Picture Soundtrack)","duration":264.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Sort of like Malcolm at the Audubon\nThey coming for me, time is money no Audemar\nSee bar-for-bar, I keep it pushing no R&R\nNo foreign broads and no promotion for foreign cars\nThe game is ours, let's keep it funky who said he was\nLike Staten Island, Italians bleed spaghetti sauce\nIf y'all ain't shaking or stacking than y'all already lost\nAlready cross the light, Christ I'm ready for em\nPlus anybody that saying no, I'm taking numbers\nI'm taking names, I'll take your chain take this hunger\nPain, pain, pain\nThen you feel the thunder and rain I don't talk it like the rainbow\nI get it done and the game y'all\nDo me a favor, don't ever play with my ball\nNever been a player-hater I just ain't playing with y'all\nYou watching lame but look I'm taking the charge\nGoing hard will get you two shots now I'm facing the charge\n\nFire up the la let's go take a ride\nThey might catch you by surprise if you let em slide\nBut if you're built for this shit then you might survive\nGuess I'll see you when you wake up on the other side\n\nSort of like Mike at the United Center\nMadison Square, Boston Garden I straight ignite on niggas\nLil' nigga your raps ain't no fire, that shit'll collapse so don't try\nI scribble and scratch down in my pad that no lie\nThat no fake, that uncut, that straight drop, what the fuck\nI'm pulled over by the jakes, a twenty-eight up in my nuts\nFor em took away in cuffs I'd rather lay up in the dust\nFeel like fuck a friend a hundred million haters ain't enough\nTwist it up\nLife is a blunt and the world is my ash tray\nI got them quarters and them halves just meet me like halfway\nAnd I need a hundred percent of my profit ain't fucking with half pay\nAin't taking no shorts or losses bitch we ain't fronting no tag day\nAs I can recollect, praying to God this dope'll stretch\nTurn mobster warners, work these corners like P90X\nChilling and waiting, patient retaliation just ain't find me yet\nI'll take it into Heaven, you couldn't buy me that, remind me that\n\nIt's the world's worst, quick to snatch your man purse\nAnd leave your body head first in the stretched hearse\nMurder she wrote, I'm known to spit a killer verse\nAnd leave a player blood spilling on his linen shirt\nYou can Google my name but you ain't gotta search\nI'm right here in the streets, I'm putting in work\nGo ahead, fuck around and get your feelings hurt\nOr, you can get carried outta your local church\nI'm from the old school, I do my own dirt\nMama raised no fool, I did my own work\nKeep your wifey close, she's a little flirt\nI knew her since '03, I hit the bitch first\nI'm the reason why your baby mama water burst\nI've been marvelous since birth, you can ask my Earth\nIt's not a problem to show you how the shotty work\nI put your body in the dirt, but what the dollars worth","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Built for This\n  artist: Method Man\n  album: The Man with the Iron Fists (Original Motion Picture Soundtrack)\n  duration_ms: 264000\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  Sort of like Malcolm at the Audubon\n  They coming for me, time is money no Audemar\n  See bar-for-bar, I keep it pushing no R&R\n  No foreign broads and no promotion for foreign cars\n  The game is ours, let's keep it funky who said he was\n  Like Staten Island, Italians bleed spaghetti sauce\n  If y'all ain't shaking or stacking than y'all already lost\n  Already cross the light, Christ I'm ready for em\n  Plus anybody that saying no, I'm taking numbers\n  I'm taking names, I'll take your chain take this hunger\n  Pain, pain, pain\n  Then you feel the thunder and rain I don't talk it like the rainbow\n  I get it done and the game y'all\n  Do me a favor, don't ever play with my ball\n  Never been a player-hater I just ain't playing with y'all\n  You watching lame but look I'm taking the charge\n  Going hard will get you two shots now I'm facing the charge\n\n  Fire up the la let's go take a ride\n  They might catch you by surprise if you let em slide\n  But if you're built for this shit then you might survive\n  Guess I'll see you when you wake up on the other side\n\n  Sort of like Mike at the United Center\n  Madison Square, Boston Garden I straight ignite on niggas\n  Lil' nigga your raps ain't no fire, that shit'll collapse so don't try\n  I scribble and scratch down in my pad that no lie\n  That no fake, that uncut, that straight drop, what the fuck\n  I'm pulled over by the jakes, a twenty-eight up in my nuts\n  For em took away in cuffs I'd rather lay up in the dust\n  Feel like fuck a friend a hundred million haters ain't enough\n  Twist it up\n  Life is a blunt and the world is my ash tray\n  I got them quarters and them halves just meet me like halfway\n  And I need a hundred percent of my profit ain't fucking with half pay\n  Ain't taking no shorts or losses bitch we ain't fronting no tag day\n  As I can recollect, praying to God this dope'll stretch\n  Turn mobster warners, work these corners like P90X\n  Chilling and waiting, patient retaliation just ain't find me yet\n  I'll take it into Heaven, you couldn't buy me that, remind me that\n\n  It's the world's worst, quick to snatch your man purse\n  And leave your body head first in the stretched hearse\n  Murder she wrote, I'm known to spit a killer verse\n  And leave a player blood spilling on his linen shirt\n  You can Google my name but you ain't gotta search\n  I'm right here in the streets, I'm putting in work\n  Go ahead, fuck around and get your feelings hurt\n  Or, you can get carried outta your local church\n  I'm from the old school, I do my own dirt\n  Mama raised no fool, I did my own work\n  Keep your wifey close, she's a little flirt\n  I knew her since '03, I hit the bitch first\n  I'm the reason why your baby mama water burst\n  I've been marvelous since birth, you can ask my Earth\n  It's not a problem to show you how the shotty work\n  I put your body in the dirt, but what the dollars worth\n"},{"id":33482023,"name":"Built for This [Explicit]","trackName":"Built for This [Explicit]","artistName":"Method Man","albumName":"The Man with the Iron Fists [Explicit]","duration":265.0,"instrumental":true,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":null,"syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Built for This [Explicit]\n  artist: Method Man\n  album: The Man with the Iron Fists [Explicit]\n  duration_ms: 265000\n  instrumental: true\nlines: []\n"},{"id":20703661,"name":"Built for This","trackName":"Built for This","artistName":"Method Man","albumName":"The Old Fashioned Way","duration":254.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Sort of like Malcolm at the Audubon\nThey coming for me, time is money no Audemar\nSee bar-for-bar, I keep it pushing no R&R\nNo foreign broads and no promotion for foreign cars\nThe game is ours, let's keep it funky who said he was\nLike Staten Island, Italians bleed spaghetti sauce\nIf y'all ain't shaking or stacking than y'all already lost\nAlready cross the light, Christ I'm ready for em\nPlus anybody that saying no, I'm taking numbers\nI'm taking names, I'll take your chain take this hunger\nPain, pain, pain\nThen you feel the thunder and rain I don't talk it like the rainbow\nI get it done and the game y'all\nDo me a favor, don't ever play with my ball\nNever been a player-hater I just ain't playing with y'all\nYou watching lame but look I'm taking the charge\nGoing hard will get you two shots now I'm facing the charge\n\nFire up the la let's go take a ride\nThey might catch you by surprise if you let em slide\nBut if you're built for this shit then you might survive\nGuess I'll see you when you wake up on the other side\n\nSort of like Mike at the United Center\nMadison Square, Boston Garden I straight ignite on niggas\nLil' nigga your raps ain't no fire, that shit'll collapse so don't try\nI scribble and scratch down in my pad that no lie\nThat no fake, that uncut, that straight drop, what the fuck\nI'm pulled over by the jakes, a twenty-eight up in my nuts\nFor em took away in cuffs I'd rather lay up in the dust\nFeel like fuck a friend a hundred million haters ain't enough\nTwist it up\nLife is a blunt and the world is my ash tray\nI got them quarters and them halves just meet me like halfway\nAnd I need a hundred percent of my profit ain't fucking with half pay\nAin't taking no shorts or losses bitch we ain't fronting no tag day\nAs I can recollect, praying to God this dope'll stretch\nTurn mobster warners, work these corners like P90X\nChilling and waiting, patient retaliation just ain't find me yet\nI'll take it into Heaven, you couldn't buy me that, remind me that\n\nIt's the world's worst, quick to snatch your man purse\nAnd leave your body head first in the stretched hearse\nMurder she wrote, I'm known to spit a killer verse\nAnd leave a player blood spilling on his linen shirt\nYou can Google my name but you ain't gotta search\nI'm right here in the streets, I'm putting in work\nGo ahead, fuck around and get your feelings hurt\nOr, you can get carried outta your local church\nI'm from the old school, I do my own dirt\nMama raised no fool, I did my own work\nKeep your wifey close, she's a little flirt\nI knew her since '03, I hit the bitch first\nI'm the reason why your baby mama water burst\nI've been marvelous since birth, you can ask my Earth\nIt's not a problem to show you how the shotty work\nI put your body in the dirt, but what the dollars worth","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Built for This\n  artist: Method Man\n  album: The Old Fashioned Way\n  duration_ms: 254000\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  Sort of like Malcolm at the Audubon\n  They coming for me, time is money no Audemar\n  See bar-for-bar, I keep it pushing no R&R\n  No foreign broads and no promotion for foreign cars\n  The game is ours, let's keep it funky who said he was\n  Like Staten Island, Italians bleed spaghetti sauce\n  If y'all ain't shaking or stacking than y'all already lost\n  Already cross the light, Christ I'm ready for em\n  Plus anybody that saying no, I'm taking numbers\n  I'm taking names, I'll take your chain take this hunger\n  Pain, pain, pain\n  Then you feel the thunder and rain I don't talk it like the rainbow\n  I get it done and the game y'all\n  Do me a favor, don't ever play with my ball\n  Never been a player-hater I just ain't playing with y'all\n  You watching lame but look I'm taking the charge\n  Going hard will get you two shots now I'm facing the charge\n\n  Fire up the la let's go take a ride\n  They might catch you by surprise if you let em slide\n  But if you're built for this shit then you might survive\n  Guess I'll see you when you wake up on the other side\n\n  Sort of like Mike at the United Center\n  Madison Square, Boston Garden I straight ignite on niggas\n  Lil' nigga your raps ain't no fire, that shit'll collapse so don't try\n  I scribble and scratch down in my pad that no lie\n  That no fake, that uncut, that straight drop, what the fuck\n  I'm pulled over by the jakes, a twenty-eight up in my nuts\n  For em took away in cuffs I'd rather lay up in the dust\n  Feel like fuck a friend a hundred million haters ain't enough\n  Twist it up\n  Life is a blunt and the world is my ash tray\n  I got them quarters and them halves just meet me like halfway\n  And I need a hundred percent of my profit ain't fucking with half pay\n  Ain't taking no shorts or losses bitch we ain't fronting no tag day\n  As I can recollect, praying to God this dope'll stretch\n  Turn mobster warners, work these corners like P90X\n  Chilling and waiting, patient retaliation just ain't find me yet\n  I'll take it into Heaven, you couldn't buy me that, remind me that\n\n  It's the world's worst, quick to snatch your man purse\n  And leave your body head first in the stretched hearse\n  Murder she wrote, I'm known to spit a killer verse\n  And leave a player blood spilling on his linen shirt\n  You can Google my name but you ain't gotta search\n  I'm right here in the streets, I'm putting in work\n  Go ahead, fuck around and get your feelings hurt\n  Or, you can get carried outta your local church\n  I'm from the old school, I do my own dirt\n  Mama raised no fool, I did my own work\n  Keep your wifey close, she's a little flirt\n  I knew her since '03, I hit the bitch first\n  I'm the reason why your baby mama water burst\n  I've been marvelous since birth, you can ask my Earth\n  It's not a problem to show you how the shotty work\n  I put your body in the dirt, but what the dollars worth\n"},{"id":13863454,"name":"Built for This","trackName":"Built for This","artistName":"Method Man, Freddie Gibbs","albumName":"The Man With the Iron Fists: Original Motion Picture Soundtrack","duration":265.0,"instrumental":true,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":null,"syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Built for This\n  artist: Method Man, Freddie Gibbs\n  album: 'The Man With the Iron Fists: Original Motion Picture Soundtrack'\n  duration_ms: 265000\n  instrumental: true\nlines: []\n"},{"id":22875701,"name":"Built For This","trackName":"Built For This","artistName":"Method Man, Freddie Gibbs & StreetLife","albumName":"The Man With The Iron 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This","trackName":"Built for This","artistName":"Method Man, Freddie Gibbs & Street Life","albumName":"The Man With the Iron Fists: Original Motion Picture Soundtrack: Instrumental","duration":266.0,"instrumental":true,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":null,"syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Built for This\n  artist: Method Man, Freddie Gibbs & Street Life\n  album: 'The Man With the Iron Fists: Original Motion Picture Soundtrack: Instrumental'\n  duration_ms: 266000\n  instrumental: true\nlines: []\n"},{"id":6809511,"name":"Built for This","trackName":"Built for This","artistName":"Method Man feat. Freddie Gibbs & Streetlife","albumName":"Hip Hop Early, Vol. 14","duration":242.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Sort of like Malcolm at the Audubon\nThey coming for me, time is money no Audemar\nSee bar-for-bar, I keep it pushing no R&R\nNo foreign broads and no promotion for foreign cars\nThe game is ours, let's keep it funky who said he was\nLike Staten Island, Italians bleed spaghetti sauce\nIf y'all ain't shaking or stacking than y'all already lost\nAlready cross the light, Christ I'm ready for em\nPlus anybody that saying no, I'm taking numbers\nI'm taking names, I'll take your chain take this hunger\nPain, pain, pain\nThen you feel the thunder and rain I don't talk it like the rainbow\nI get it done and the game y'all\nDo me a favor, don't ever play with my ball\nNever been a player-hater I just ain't playing with y'all\nYou watching lame but look I'm taking the charge\nGoing hard will get you two shots now I'm facing the charge\n\nFire up the la let's go take a ride\nThey might catch you by surprise if you let em slide\nBut if you're built for this shit then you might survive\nGuess I'll see you when you wake up on the other side\n\nSort of like Mike at the United Center\nMadison Square, Boston Garden I straight ignite on niggas\nLil' nigga your raps ain't no fire, that shit'll collapse so don't try\nI scribble and scratch down in my pad that no lie\nThat no fake, that uncut, that straight drop, what the fuck\nI'm pulled over by the jakes, a twenty-eight up in my nuts\nFor em took away in cuffs I'd rather lay up in the dust\nFeel like fuck a friend a hundred million haters ain't enough\nTwist it up\nLife is a blunt and the world is my ash tray\nI got them quarters and them halves just meet me like halfway\nAnd I need a hundred percent of my profit ain't fucking with half pay\nAin't taking no shorts or losses bitch we ain't fronting no tag day\nAs I can recollect, praying to God this dope'll stretch\nTurn mobster warners, work these corners like P90X\nChilling and waiting, patient retaliation just ain't find me yet\nI'll take it into Heaven, you couldn't buy me that, remind me that\n\nIt's the world's worst, quick to snatch your man purse\nAnd leave your body head first in the stretched hearse\nMurder she wrote, I'm known to spit a killer verse\nAnd leave a player blood spilling on his linen shirt\nYou can Google my name but you ain't gotta search\nI'm right here in the streets, I'm putting in work\nGo ahead, fuck around and get your feelings hurt\nOr, you can get carried outta your local church\nI'm from the old school, I do my own dirt\nMama raised no fool, I did my own work\nKeep your wifey close, she's a little flirt\nI knew her since '03, I hit the bitch first\nI'm the reason why your baby mama water burst\nI've been marvelous since birth, you can ask my Earth\nIt's not a problem to show you how the shotty work\nI put your body in the dirt, but what the dollars worth","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Built for This\n  artist: Method Man feat. Freddie Gibbs & Streetlife\n  album: Hip Hop Early, Vol. 14\n  duration_ms: 242000\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  Sort of like Malcolm at the Audubon\n  They coming for me, time is money no Audemar\n  See bar-for-bar, I keep it pushing no R&R\n  No foreign broads and no promotion for foreign cars\n  The game is ours, let's keep it funky who said he was\n  Like Staten Island, Italians bleed spaghetti sauce\n  If y'all ain't shaking or stacking than y'all already lost\n  Already cross the light, Christ I'm ready for em\n  Plus anybody that saying no, I'm taking numbers\n  I'm taking names, I'll take your chain take this hunger\n  Pain, pain, pain\n  Then you feel the thunder and rain I don't talk it like the rainbow\n  I get it done and the game y'all\n  Do me a favor, don't ever play with my ball\n  Never been a player-hater I just ain't playing with y'all\n  You watching lame but look I'm taking the charge\n  Going hard will get you two shots now I'm facing the charge\n\n  Fire up the la let's go take a ride\n  They might catch you by surprise if you let em slide\n  But if you're built for this shit then you might survive\n  Guess I'll see you when you wake up on the other side\n\n  Sort of like Mike at the United Center\n  Madison Square, Boston Garden I straight ignite on niggas\n  Lil' nigga your raps ain't no fire, that shit'll collapse so don't try\n  I scribble and scratch down in my pad that no lie\n  That no fake, that uncut, that straight drop, what the fuck\n  I'm pulled over by the jakes, a twenty-eight up in my nuts\n  For em took away in cuffs I'd rather lay up in the dust\n  Feel like fuck a friend a hundred million haters ain't enough\n  Twist it up\n  Life is a blunt and the world is my ash tray\n  I got them quarters and them halves just meet me like halfway\n  And I need a hundred percent of my profit ain't fucking with half pay\n  Ain't taking no shorts or losses bitch we ain't fronting no tag day\n  As I can recollect, praying to God this dope'll stretch\n  Turn mobster warners, work these corners like P90X\n  Chilling and waiting, patient retaliation just ain't find me yet\n  I'll take it into Heaven, you couldn't buy me that, remind me that\n\n  It's the world's worst, quick to snatch your man purse\n  And leave your body head first in the stretched hearse\n  Murder she wrote, I'm known to spit a killer verse\n  And leave a player blood spilling on his linen shirt\n  You can Google my name but you ain't gotta search\n  I'm right here in the streets, I'm putting in work\n  Go ahead, fuck around and get your feelings hurt\n  Or, you can get carried outta your local church\n  I'm from the old school, I do my own dirt\n  Mama raised no fool, I did my own work\n  Keep your wifey close, she's a little flirt\n  I knew her since '03, I hit the bitch first\n  I'm the reason why your baby mama water burst\n  I've been marvelous since birth, you can ask my Earth\n  It's not a problem to show you how the shotty work\n  I put your body in the dirt, but what the dollars worth\n"}]