[{"id":12915441,"name":"Fire Ina Hole (Album Version Explicit)","trackName":"Fire Ina Hole (Album Version Explicit)","artistName":"Method Man","albumName":"Blackout!","duration":261.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"With all due respect to the game, I'm the P-H-enom\nNot ready for prime time, be-yond, extinction\nChange your way of thinkin, or be-gone\nFast the fuck out, somethin stinkin\nCould it be the skunk, or could it be that body in the trunk\nOf my Lincoln, Continental style pop the pussy like a pimple\nI'm fed up, I put it in your ear and fuck ya head up\nTurnin up the temperature, hold them kids that entered the\n36th, master mix shit\nBiohazardous, pretentious\nDo it for the chemically imbalanced\nState your business, pay me at the door\nI am Man, hear me roar on twelve inches\nShell shocked soldier in the trenches\nFire in the hole game commences\nThird string rappers play the benches\nReload, there'll be no repentance for souls\nJust life sentence, with no chance for parole\nAnd that's real\nFire in the hole\nYes, yes, yes yo yo, yo\nGundowned at sundown\nRun now from the bucks sound, touchdown\nYour crew wanna punt now? Punk BLAOW\nSwimmin trunks torn up from the huntdown\nBrakes lock em up now, a rich bitch knock em up now\nA plucked out eyebrow gal\nNaw dawg, a broad got to be a huzzy\nA hoodrat that ride like the \"Bride of Chucky\"\nWalk through my hood, your jewels they scream \"Tug me\"\nMind revolve' to reload like a SCSI\nDoc, Da Bigfoot out for da SQUOOSH\nShell shocked like I'm six months in the bush\nFire in the hole! Hikin in the snow\nWith forty motherfuckers expirin' the globe\nFootprints of Timbs and Wallabee soles\nWe case the place like Barnaby Jones, homes\nLay it down like plats in ya hair\nRide off withcha money, then clap in the air!\nFire in the hole\nThis is for dem niggas on Da Bricks, holdin down they block\nFor my nigga Carlton Fisk a kid who stay up in the box\nAin't no christmas ever since Santa scratched my name\nOff the giftlist, shit ain't been the same since \"The Pain\"\nNo forgiveness, dead man talkin bout he lifted\nI'm livid, hands around the throat of a critic\nYo Doctor, prescribe me a drug that can knock a\nMule on his ass, take the blast out Binaca\nFor real doe, Arsenic Production that kill slow\nYour eardrums, like a happy hooker with a dildo\nI spas, on anyone who show his ass\nI got the mob with me plus a full tank of gas\nYo yo when Me and Meth swarm, you need a net to cover you\nTurn the rap game into W-C-W\nOff the rope I hangglide to the throat\nStraight beef without french fries and a Coke\n\"Doc's Da Name\", da burglar, I serve ya\nThe \"Lethal 5\" from Riggs and Murtaugh\nThen SKRRRT out my whip with ran down tires\nWith a chicken I met who hand out fliers\nLook, I'm an Aries, I don't have it\nMy crew large enough to walk and cause traffic\nBounce like boxsprings on your Kraftmatic\nBefore you be suin Doc for malpractice\nYou couldn't bang from start\nYour girl see you beat up and shit, get a change of heart\nFlaming darts is spittin, name the mark\nMy impact tore JFK plane apart\nFire in the hole","syncedLyrics":"[00:18.95] With all due respect to the game, I'm the P-H-enom\n[00:22.65] Not ready for prime time, be-yond, extinction\n[00:25.07] Change your way of thinkin, or be-gone\n[00:26.92] Fast the fuck out, somethin stinkin\n[00:28.88] Could it be the skunk, or could it be that body in the trunk\n[00:31.53] Of my Lincoln, Continental style pop the pussy like a pimple\n[00:35.06] I'm fed up, I put it in your ear and fuck ya head up\n[00:37.36] Turnin up the temperature, hold them kids that entered the\n[00:40.02] 36th, master mix shit\n[00:41.57] Biohazardous, pretentious\n[00:43.00] Do it for the chemically imbalanced\n[00:44.67] State your business, pay me at the door\n[00:46.27] I am Man, hear me roar on twelve inches\n[00:48.55] Shell shocked soldier in the trenches\n[00:50.39] Fire in the hole game commences\n[00:52.33] Third string rappers play the benches\n[00:54.20] Reload, there'll be no repentance for souls\n[00:56.52] Just life sentence, with no chance for parole\n[00:58.90] And that's real\n[00:59.85] Fire in the hole\n[01:16.29] Yes, yes, yes yo yo, yo\n[01:18.95] Gundowned at sundown\n[01:20.66] Run now from the bucks sound, touchdown\n[01:23.47] Your crew wanna punt now? Punk BLAOW\n[01:26.02] Swimmin trunks torn up from the huntdown\n[01:28.51] Brakes lock em up now, a rich bitch knock em up now\n[01:31.86] A plucked out eyebrow gal\n[01:33.71] Naw dawg, a broad got to be a huzzy\n[01:36.27] A hoodrat that ride like the \"Bride of Chucky\"\n[01:38.80] Walk through my hood, your jewels they scream \"Tug me\"\n[01:41.35] Mind revolve' to reload like a SCSI\n[01:43.93] Doc, Da Bigfoot out for da SQUOOSH\n[01:46.27] Shell shocked like I'm six months in the bush\n[01:48.60] Fire in the hole! Hikin in the snow\n[01:51.05] With forty motherfuckers expirin' the globe\n[01:53.60] Footprints of Timbs and Wallabee soles\n[01:55.99] We case the place like Barnaby Jones, homes\n[01:58.64] Lay it down like plats in ya hair\n[02:01.12] Ride off withcha money, then clap in the air!\n[02:03.74] Fire in the hole\n[02:17.34] This is for dem niggas on Da Bricks, holdin down they block\n[02:20.71] For my nigga Carlton Fisk a kid who stay up in the box\n[02:23.24] Ain't no christmas ever since Santa scratched my name\n[02:25.64] Off the giftlist, shit ain't been the same since \"The Pain\"\n[02:28.31] No forgiveness, dead man talkin bout he lifted\n[02:30.84] I'm livid, hands around the throat of a critic\n[02:33.32] Yo Doctor, prescribe me a drug that can knock a\n[02:35.92] Mule on his ass, take the blast out Binaca\n[02:38.37] For real doe, Arsenic Production that kill slow\n[02:40.84] Your eardrums, like a happy hooker with a dildo\n[02:43.28] I spas, on anyone who show his ass\n[02:45.50] I got the mob with me plus a full tank of gas\n[02:48.22] Yo yo when Me and Meth swarm, you need a net to cover you\n[02:50.77] Turn the rap game into W-C-W\n[02:53.24] Off the rope I hangglide to the throat\n[02:55.64] Straight beef without french fries and a Coke\n[02:57.92] \"Doc's Da Name\", da burglar, I serve ya\n[03:00.43] The \"Lethal 5\" from Riggs and Murtaugh\n[03:03.09] Then SKRRRT out my whip with ran down tires\n[03:05.44] With a chicken I met who hand out fliers\n[03:08.04] Look, I'm an Aries, I don't have it\n[03:10.52] My crew large enough to walk and cause traffic\n[03:13.01] Bounce like boxsprings on your Kraftmatic\n[03:15.49] Before you be suin Doc for malpractice\n[03:17.97] You couldn't bang from start\n[03:19.67] Your girl see you beat up and shit, get a change of heart\n[03:22.57] Flaming darts is spittin, name the mark\n[03:25.04] My impact tore JFK plane apart\n[03:27.78] Fire in the hole","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Fire Ina Hole (Album Version Explicit)\n  artist: Method Man\n  album: Blackout!\n  duration_ms: 261000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: With all due respect to the game, I'm the P-H-enom\n  start_ms: 18950\n  end_ms: 22650\n- text: Not ready for prime time, be-yond, extinction\n  start_ms: 22650\n  end_ms: 25070\n- text: Change your way of thinkin, or be-gone\n  start_ms: 25070\n  end_ms: 26920\n- text: Fast the fuck out, somethin stinkin\n  start_ms: 26920\n  end_ms: 28880\n- text: Could it be the skunk, or could it be that body in the trunk\n  start_ms: 28880\n  end_ms: 31530\n- text: Of my Lincoln, Continental style pop the pussy like a pimple\n  start_ms: 31530\n  end_ms: 35060\n- text: I'm fed up, I put it in your ear and fuck ya head up\n  start_ms: 35060\n  end_ms: 37360\n- text: Turnin up the temperature, hold them kids that entered the\n  start_ms: 37360\n  end_ms: 40020\n- text: 36th, master mix shit\n  start_ms: 40020\n  end_ms: 41570\n- text: Biohazardous, pretentious\n  start_ms: 41570\n  end_ms: 43000\n- text: Do it for the chemically imbalanced\n  start_ms: 43000\n  end_ms: 44670\n- text: State your business, pay me at the door\n  start_ms: 44670\n  end_ms: 46270\n- text: I am Man, hear me roar on twelve inches\n  start_ms: 46270\n  end_ms: 48550\n- text: Shell shocked soldier in the trenches\n  start_ms: 48550\n  end_ms: 50390\n- text: Fire in the hole game commences\n  start_ms: 50390\n  end_ms: 52330\n- text: Third string rappers play the benches\n  start_ms: 52330\n  end_ms: 54200\n- text: Reload, there'll be no repentance for souls\n  start_ms: 54200\n  end_ms: 56520\n- text: Just life sentence, with no chance for parole\n  start_ms: 56520\n  end_ms: 58900\n- text: And that's real\n  start_ms: 58900\n  end_ms: 59850\n- text: Fire in the hole\n  start_ms: 59850\n  end_ms: 76290\n- text: Yes, yes, yes yo yo, yo\n  start_ms: 76290\n  end_ms: 78950\n- text: Gundowned at sundown\n  start_ms: 78950\n  end_ms: 80660\n- text: Run now from the bucks sound, touchdown\n  start_ms: 80660\n  end_ms: 83470\n- text: Your crew wanna punt now? Punk BLAOW\n  start_ms: 83470\n  end_ms: 86020\n- text: Swimmin trunks torn up from the huntdown\n  start_ms: 86020\n  end_ms: 88510\n- text: Brakes lock em up now, a rich bitch knock em up now\n  start_ms: 88510\n  end_ms: 91860\n- text: A plucked out eyebrow gal\n  start_ms: 91860\n  end_ms: 93710\n- text: Naw dawg, a broad got to be a huzzy\n  start_ms: 93710\n  end_ms: 96270\n- text: A hoodrat that ride like the \"Bride of Chucky\"\n  start_ms: 96270\n  end_ms: 98800\n- text: Walk through my hood, your jewels they scream \"Tug me\"\n  start_ms: 98800\n  end_ms: 101350\n- text: Mind revolve' to reload like a SCSI\n  start_ms: 101350\n  end_ms: 103930\n- text: Doc, Da Bigfoot out for da SQUOOSH\n  start_ms: 103930\n  end_ms: 106270\n- text: Shell shocked like I'm six months in the bush\n  start_ms: 106270\n  end_ms: 108600\n- text: Fire in the hole! Hikin in the snow\n  start_ms: 108600\n  end_ms: 111050\n- text: With forty motherfuckers expirin' the globe\n  start_ms: 111050\n  end_ms: 113600\n- text: Footprints of Timbs and Wallabee soles\n  start_ms: 113600\n  end_ms: 115990\n- text: We case the place like Barnaby Jones, homes\n  start_ms: 115990\n  end_ms: 118640\n- text: Lay it down like plats in ya hair\n  start_ms: 118640\n  end_ms: 121120\n- text: Ride off withcha money, then clap in the air!\n  start_ms: 121120\n  end_ms: 123740\n- text: Fire in the hole\n  start_ms: 123740\n  end_ms: 137340\n- text: This is for dem niggas on Da Bricks, holdin down they block\n  start_ms: 137340\n  end_ms: 140710\n- text: For my nigga Carlton Fisk a kid who stay up in the box\n  start_ms: 140710\n  end_ms: 143240\n- text: Ain't no christmas ever since Santa scratched my name\n  start_ms: 143240\n  end_ms: 145640\n- text: Off the giftlist, shit ain't been the same since \"The Pain\"\n  start_ms: 145640\n  end_ms: 148310\n- text: No forgiveness, dead man talkin bout he lifted\n  start_ms: 148310\n  end_ms: 150840\n- text: I'm livid, hands around the throat of a critic\n  start_ms: 150840\n  end_ms: 153320\n- text: Yo Doctor, prescribe me a drug that can knock a\n  start_ms: 153320\n  end_ms: 155920\n- text: Mule on his ass, take the blast out Binaca\n  start_ms: 155920\n  end_ms: 158370\n- text: For real doe, Arsenic Production that kill slow\n  start_ms: 158370\n  end_ms: 160840\n- text: Your eardrums, like a happy hooker with a dildo\n  start_ms: 160840\n  end_ms: 163280\n- text: I spas, on anyone who show his ass\n  start_ms: 163280\n  end_ms: 165500\n- text: I got the mob with me plus a full tank of gas\n  start_ms: 165500\n  end_ms: 168220\n- text: Yo yo when Me and Meth swarm, you need a net to cover you\n  start_ms: 168220\n  end_ms: 170770\n- text: Turn the rap game into W-C-W\n  start_ms: 170770\n  end_ms: 173240\n- text: Off the rope I hangglide to the throat\n  start_ms: 173240\n  end_ms: 175640\n- text: Straight beef without french fries and a Coke\n  start_ms: 175640\n  end_ms: 177920\n- text: '\"Doc''s Da Name\", da burglar, I serve ya'\n  start_ms: 177920\n  end_ms: 180430\n- text: The \"Lethal 5\" from Riggs and Murtaugh\n  start_ms: 180430\n  end_ms: 183090\n- text: Then SKRRRT out my whip with ran down tires\n  start_ms: 183090\n  end_ms: 185440\n- text: With a chicken I met who hand out fliers\n  start_ms: 185440\n  end_ms: 188040\n- text: Look, I'm an Aries, I don't have it\n  start_ms: 188040\n  end_ms: 190520\n- text: My crew large enough to walk and cause traffic\n  start_ms: 190520\n  end_ms: 193010\n- text: Bounce like boxsprings on your Kraftmatic\n  start_ms: 193010\n  end_ms: 195490\n- text: Before you be suin Doc for malpractice\n  start_ms: 195490\n  end_ms: 197970\n- text: You couldn't bang from start\n  start_ms: 197970\n  end_ms: 199670\n- text: Your girl see you beat up and shit, get a change of heart\n  start_ms: 199670\n  end_ms: 202570\n- text: Flaming darts is spittin, name the mark\n  start_ms: 202570\n  end_ms: 205040\n- text: My impact tore JFK plane apart\n  start_ms: 205040\n  end_ms: 207780\n- text: Fire in the hole\n  start_ms: 207780\nplain: |-\n  With all due respect to the game, I'm the P-H-enom\n  Not ready for prime time, be-yond, extinction\n  Change your way of thinkin, or be-gone\n  Fast the fuck out, somethin stinkin\n  Could it be the skunk, or could it be that body in the trunk\n  Of my Lincoln, Continental style pop the pussy like a pimple\n  I'm fed up, I put it in your ear and fuck ya head up\n  Turnin up the temperature, hold them kids that entered the\n  36th, master mix shit\n  Biohazardous, pretentious\n  Do it for the chemically imbalanced\n  State your business, pay me at the door\n  I am Man, hear me roar on twelve inches\n  Shell shocked soldier in the trenches\n  Fire in the hole game commences\n  Third string rappers play the benches\n  Reload, there'll be no repentance for souls\n  Just life sentence, with no chance for parole\n  And that's real\n  Fire in the hole\n  Yes, yes, yes yo yo, yo\n  Gundowned at sundown\n  Run now from the bucks sound, touchdown\n  Your crew wanna punt now? Punk BLAOW\n  Swimmin trunks torn up from the huntdown\n  Brakes lock em up now, a rich bitch knock em up now\n  A plucked out eyebrow gal\n  Naw dawg, a broad got to be a huzzy\n  A hoodrat that ride like the \"Bride of Chucky\"\n  Walk through my hood, your jewels they scream \"Tug me\"\n  Mind revolve' to reload like a SCSI\n  Doc, Da Bigfoot out for da SQUOOSH\n  Shell shocked like I'm six months in the bush\n  Fire in the hole! Hikin in the snow\n  With forty motherfuckers expirin' the globe\n  Footprints of Timbs and Wallabee soles\n  We case the place like Barnaby Jones, homes\n  Lay it down like plats in ya hair\n  Ride off withcha money, then clap in the air!\n  Fire in the hole\n  This is for dem niggas on Da Bricks, holdin down they block\n  For my nigga Carlton Fisk a kid who stay up in the box\n  Ain't no christmas ever since Santa scratched my name\n  Off the giftlist, shit ain't been the same since \"The Pain\"\n  No forgiveness, dead man talkin bout he lifted\n  I'm livid, hands around the throat of a critic\n  Yo Doctor, prescribe me a drug that can knock a\n  Mule on his ass, take the blast out Binaca\n  For real doe, Arsenic Production that kill slow\n  Your eardrums, like a happy hooker with a dildo\n  I spas, on anyone who show his ass\n  I got the mob with me plus a full tank of gas\n  Yo yo when Me and Meth swarm, you need a net to cover you\n  Turn the rap game into W-C-W\n  Off the rope I hangglide to the throat\n  Straight beef without french fries and a Coke\n  \"Doc's Da Name\", da burglar, I serve ya\n  The \"Lethal 5\" from Riggs and Murtaugh\n  Then SKRRRT out my whip with ran down tires\n  With a chicken I met who hand out fliers\n  Look, I'm an Aries, I don't have it\n  My crew large enough to walk and cause traffic\n  Bounce like boxsprings on your Kraftmatic\n  Before you be suin Doc for malpractice\n  You couldn't bang from start\n  Your girl see you beat up and shit, get a change of heart\n  Flaming darts is spittin, name the mark\n  My impact tore JFK plane apart\n  Fire in the hole\n"},{"id":15375632,"name":"Fire Ina Hole (Album Version Explicit)","trackName":"Fire Ina Hole (Album Version Explicit)","artistName":"Method Man\u0000Redman","albumName":"Blackout!","duration":261.537959,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Come on, come on, state your business\nCome on, let's make it hot\nCome on, word, let's make it hot\nCome on, let's make it hot\nCome on, let's make it hot\nHardcore, to make them brothers act fools\nCome on, come on\nWith all due respect to the game, I'm the P H enom\nNot ready for prime time beyond, extinction\nChange your way of thinkin' or begone\nFast the fuck out, somethin' stinkin'\nCould it be the skunk or could it be that body in the trunk\nOf my Lincoln? Continental style pop the pussy like a pimple\nI'm fed up, I put it in your ear and fuck ya head up\nTurnin' up the temperature, hold them kids that entered\nThe 36th, master mix shit, bio-hazardous, pretentious\nDo it for the chemically imbalanced\nState your business, pay me at the door\nIron Man, hear me roar on twelve inches\nShell shocked soldier in the trenches\nFire in the hole game commences\nThird string rappers play the benches, reload\nThere'll be no repentance for souls just life sentence\nWith no chance for parole and that's real\nFire ina hole, yo, fire ina hole\nFire ina hole, fire ina hole\nFire ina hole, fire ina hole\nFire ina hole, fire ina hole\nFire ina hole, fire ina hole\nFire ina hole, fire ina hole\nFire ina hole, fire ina hole\nYeah, yeah, yeah, yo, yo, yo, gun downed at sundown\nRun now from the bucks sound, touchdown\nYour crew wanna punt now? Punk blaow\nSwimmin' trunks torn up from the hunt down\nBrakes lock 'em up now, a rich bitch knock 'em up now\nA plucked out eyebrow gal\nNaw, dawg, a broad got to be a huzzy\nA hood rat that ride like the bride of Chucky\nWalk through my hood, your jewels they scream, \"Tug me\"\nMind revolve' to reload like a SCSI\nDoc, da bigfoot out for da squosh\nShell shocked like I'm six months in the bush\nFire ina hole, hikin' in the snow\nWith forty motherfuckers expirin' the globe\nFootprints of timbs and wallabee soles\nWe case the place like Barnaby Jones, Homes\nLay it down like plats in ya hair\nRide off withcha money, then clap in the air\nFire ina hole, fire ina hole\nYo, fire ina hole, fire ina hole\nFire ina hole, fire ina hole\nYo, fire ina hole, fire ina hole\nYo, fire ina hole, yo, yo, yo\nThis is for dem niggaz on da bricks holdin' down they block\nFor my nigga Carlton Fisk, a kid who stay up in the box\nAin't no Christmas ever since Santa scratched my name\nOff the gift list, shit ain't been the same since the pain\nNo forgiveness, dead man talkin' 'bout he lifted\nI'm livid, hands around the throat of a critic\nYo, Doctor, prescribe me a drug that can knock\nA mule on his ass, take the blast out Binaca\nFor real doe, arsenic production that kill slow\nYour eardrums like a happy hooker with a dildo\nI spas on anyone who show his ass\nI got the mob with me plus a full tank of gas\nYo, yo when me and Meth swarm\nYou need a net to cover you\nTurn the rap game into W C W\nOff the rope I hang glide to the throat\nStraight beef without French Fries and a Coke\nDoc's da name, da burglar, I serve ya\nThe lethal 5 from Riggs and Murtoch\nThen skart out my whip with ran down tires\nWith a chicken I met who hand out fliers\nLook, I'm an Aries, I don't have it\nMy crew large enough to walk and cause traffic\nBounce like box springs on your kraftmatic\nBefore you be suin' Doc for malpractice\nYou couldn't bang from start, your girl see you\nBeat up and shit, get a change of heart\nFlaming darts is spittin', name the mark\nMy impact tore JFK plane apart\nFire ina hole, fire ina hole\nFire ina hole, fire ina hole\nFire ina hole, fire ina hole\nFire ina hole\nFire ina hole, fire ina hole\nFire ina hole, fire ina hole\nFire ina hole, fire ina hole\nFire ina hole\nYo, yo, yo, fire ina hole, yo, yo, yo, yo, yo\nMr. Meth, Funk Doctor, Mathematics, on the track\nFor my niggaz in Da Bricks, for my niggaz on Shaolin\nWorldwide to my whole crew, P P C","syncedLyrics":"[00:01.80] Come on, come on, state your business\n[00:06.73] Come on, let's make it hot\n[00:08.80] Come on, word, let's make it hot\n[00:12.82] Come on, let's make it hot\n[00:13.93] Come on, let's make it hot\n[00:15.94] Hardcore, to make them brothers act fools\n[00:16.94] Come on, come on\n[00:19.01] With all due respect to the game, I'm the P H enom\n[00:22.06] Not ready for prime time beyond, extinction\n[00:25.08] Change your way of thinkin' or begone\n[00:27.06] Fast the fuck out, somethin' stinkin'\n[00:29.09] Could it be the skunk or could it be that body in the trunk\n[00:31.17] Of my Lincoln? Continental style pop the pussy like a pimple\n[00:35.25] I'm fed up, I put it in your ear and fuck ya head up\n[00:37.28] Turnin' up the temperature, hold them kids that entered\n[00:39.24] The 36th, master mix shit, bio-hazardous, pretentious\n[00:42.22] Do it for the chemically imbalanced\n[00:45.22] State your business, pay me at the door\n[00:46.38] Iron Man, hear me roar on twelve inches\n[00:48.37] Shell shocked soldier in the trenches\n[00:50.34] Fire in the hole game commences\n[00:52.36] Third string rappers play the benches, reload\n[00:54.35] There'll be no repentance for souls just life sentence\n[00:57.44] With no chance for parole and that's real\n[00:59.40] Fire ina hole, yo, fire ina hole\n[01:02.46] Fire ina hole, fire ina hole\n[01:04.42] Fire ina hole, fire ina hole\n[01:05.48] Fire ina hole, fire ina hole\n[01:08.53] Fire ina hole, fire ina hole\n[01:11.98] Fire ina hole, fire ina hole\n[01:14.22] Fire ina hole, fire ina hole\n[01:17.05] Yeah, yeah, yeah, yo, yo, yo, gun downed at sundown\n[01:20.02] Run now from the bucks sound, touchdown\n[01:23.01] Your crew wanna punt now? Punk blaow\n[01:26.16] Swimmin' trunks torn up from the hunt down\n[01:28.06] Brakes lock 'em up now, a rich bitch knock 'em up now\n[01:31.95] A plucked out eyebrow gal\n[01:33.91] Naw, dawg, a broad got to be a huzzy\n[01:35.97] A hood rat that ride like the bride of Chucky\n[01:38.92] Walk through my hood, your jewels they scream, \"Tug me\"\n[01:41.09] Mind revolve' to reload like a SCSI\n[01:44.03] Doc, da bigfoot out for da squosh\n[01:46.02] Shell shocked like I'm six months in the bush\n[01:48.07] Fire ina hole, hikin' in the snow\n[01:51.19] With forty motherfuckers expirin' the globe\n[01:53.10] Footprints of timbs and wallabee soles\n[01:56.11] We case the place like Barnaby Jones, Homes\n[01:59.12] Lay it down like plats in ya hair\n[02:01.12] Ride off withcha money, then clap in the air\n[02:03.10] Fire ina hole, fire ina hole\n[02:07.29] Yo, fire ina hole, fire ina hole\n[02:09.27] Fire ina hole, fire ina hole\n[02:11.26] Yo, fire ina hole, fire ina hole\n[02:15.14] Yo, fire ina hole, yo, yo, yo\n[02:17.12] This is for dem niggaz on da bricks holdin' down they block\n[02:20.27] For my nigga Carlton Fisk, a kid who stay up in the box\n[02:23.21] Ain't no Christmas ever since Santa scratched my name\n[02:25.22] Off the gift list, shit ain't been the same since the pain\n[02:28.34] No forgiveness, dead man talkin' 'bout he lifted\n[02:30.34] I'm livid, hands around the throat of a critic\n[02:33.31] Yo, Doctor, prescribe me a drug that can knock\n[02:35.25] A mule on his ass, take the blast out Binaca\n[02:38.28] For real doe, arsenic production that kill slow\n[02:40.23] Your eardrums like a happy hooker with a dildo\n[02:43.26] I spas on anyone who show his ass\n[02:45.35] I got the mob with me plus a full tank of gas\n[02:48.39] Yo, yo when me and Meth swarm\n[02:49.32] You need a net to cover you\n[02:50.36] Turn the rap game into W C W\n[02:52.47] Off the rope I hang glide to the throat\n[02:55.45] Straight beef without French Fries and a Coke\n[02:57.46] Doc's da name, da burglar, I serve ya\n[03:00.50] The lethal 5 from Riggs and Murtoch\n[03:02.57] Then skart out my whip with ran down tires\n[03:05.53] With a chicken I met who hand out fliers\n[03:07.60] Look, I'm an Aries, I don't have it\n[03:10.67] My crew large enough to walk and cause traffic\n[03:12.65] Bounce like box springs on your kraftmatic\n[03:14.62] Before you be suin' Doc for malpractice\n[03:17.70] You couldn't bang from start, your girl see you\n[03:20.75] Beat up and shit, get a change of heart\n[03:22.81] Flaming darts is spittin', name the mark\n[03:24.77] My impact tore JFK plane apart\n[03:27.71] Fire ina hole, fire ina hole\n[03:30.86] Fire ina hole, fire ina hole\n[03:33.88] Fire ina hole, fire ina hole\n[03:35.89] Fire ina hole\n[03:37.87] Fire ina hole, fire ina hole\n[03:40.90] Fire ina hole, fire ina hole\n[03:43.93] Fire ina hole, fire ina hole\n[03:46.01] Fire ina hole\n[03:47.01] Yo, yo, yo, fire ina hole, yo, yo, yo, yo, yo\n[03:57.18] Mr. Meth, Funk Doctor, Mathematics, on the track\n[04:07.20] For my niggaz in Da Bricks, for my niggaz on Shaolin\n[04:14.25] Worldwide to my whole crew, P P C\n[04:19.35] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Fire Ina Hole (Album Version Explicit)\n  artist: \"Method Man\\0Redman\"\n  album: Blackout!\n  duration_ms: 261538\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Come on, come on, state your business\n  start_ms: 1800\n  end_ms: 6730\n- text: Come on, let's make it hot\n  start_ms: 6730\n  end_ms: 8800\n- text: Come on, word, let's make it hot\n  start_ms: 8800\n  end_ms: 12820\n- text: Come on, let's make it hot\n  start_ms: 12820\n  end_ms: 13930\n- text: Come on, let's make it hot\n  start_ms: 13930\n  end_ms: 15940\n- text: Hardcore, to make them brothers act fools\n  start_ms: 15940\n  end_ms: 16940\n- text: Come on, come on\n  start_ms: 16940\n  end_ms: 19010\n- text: With all due respect to the game, I'm the P H enom\n  start_ms: 19010\n  end_ms: 22060\n- text: Not ready for prime time beyond, extinction\n  start_ms: 22060\n  end_ms: 25080\n- text: Change your way of thinkin' or begone\n  start_ms: 25080\n  end_ms: 27060\n- text: Fast the fuck out, somethin' stinkin'\n  start_ms: 27060\n  end_ms: 29090\n- text: Could it be the skunk or could it be that body in the trunk\n  start_ms: 29090\n  end_ms: 31170\n- text: Of my Lincoln? Continental style pop the pussy like a pimple\n  start_ms: 31170\n  end_ms: 35250\n- text: I'm fed up, I put it in your ear and fuck ya head up\n  start_ms: 35250\n  end_ms: 37280\n- text: Turnin' up the temperature, hold them kids that entered\n  start_ms: 37280\n  end_ms: 39240\n- text: The 36th, master mix shit, bio-hazardous, pretentious\n  start_ms: 39240\n  end_ms: 42220\n- text: Do it for the chemically imbalanced\n  start_ms: 42220\n  end_ms: 45220\n- text: State your business, pay me at the door\n  start_ms: 45220\n  end_ms: 46380\n- text: Iron Man, hear me roar on twelve inches\n  start_ms: 46380\n  end_ms: 48370\n- text: Shell shocked soldier in the trenches\n  start_ms: 48370\n  end_ms: 50340\n- text: Fire in the hole game commences\n  start_ms: 50340\n  end_ms: 52360\n- text: Third string rappers play the benches, reload\n  start_ms: 52360\n  end_ms: 54350\n- text: There'll be no repentance for souls just life sentence\n  start_ms: 54350\n  end_ms: 57440\n- text: With no chance for parole and that's real\n  start_ms: 57440\n  end_ms: 59400\n- text: Fire ina hole, yo, fire ina hole\n  start_ms: 59400\n  end_ms: 62460\n- text: Fire ina hole, fire ina hole\n  start_ms: 62460\n  end_ms: 64420\n- text: Fire ina hole, fire ina hole\n  start_ms: 64420\n  end_ms: 65480\n- text: Fire ina hole, fire ina hole\n  start_ms: 65480\n  end_ms: 68530\n- text: Fire ina hole, fire ina hole\n  start_ms: 68530\n  end_ms: 71980\n- text: Fire ina hole, fire ina hole\n  start_ms: 71980\n  end_ms: 74220\n- text: Fire ina hole, fire ina hole\n  start_ms: 74220\n  end_ms: 77050\n- text: Yeah, yeah, yeah, yo, yo, yo, gun downed at sundown\n  start_ms: 77050\n  end_ms: 80020\n- text: Run now from the bucks sound, touchdown\n  start_ms: 80020\n  end_ms: 83010\n- text: Your crew wanna punt now? Punk blaow\n  start_ms: 83010\n  end_ms: 86160\n- text: Swimmin' trunks torn up from the hunt down\n  start_ms: 86160\n  end_ms: 88060\n- text: Brakes lock 'em up now, a rich bitch knock 'em up now\n  start_ms: 88060\n  end_ms: 91950\n- text: A plucked out eyebrow gal\n  start_ms: 91950\n  end_ms: 93910\n- text: Naw, dawg, a broad got to be a huzzy\n  start_ms: 93910\n  end_ms: 95970\n- text: A hood rat that ride like the bride of Chucky\n  start_ms: 95970\n  end_ms: 98920\n- text: Walk through my hood, your jewels they scream, \"Tug me\"\n  start_ms: 98920\n  end_ms: 101090\n- text: Mind revolve' to reload like a SCSI\n  start_ms: 101090\n  end_ms: 104030\n- text: Doc, da bigfoot out for da squosh\n  start_ms: 104030\n  end_ms: 106020\n- text: Shell shocked like I'm six months in the bush\n  start_ms: 106020\n  end_ms: 108070\n- text: Fire ina hole, hikin' in the snow\n  start_ms: 108070\n  end_ms: 111190\n- text: With forty motherfuckers expirin' the globe\n  start_ms: 111190\n  end_ms: 113100\n- text: Footprints of timbs and wallabee soles\n  start_ms: 113100\n  end_ms: 116110\n- text: We case the place like Barnaby Jones, Homes\n  start_ms: 116110\n  end_ms: 119120\n- text: Lay it down like plats in ya hair\n  start_ms: 119120\n  end_ms: 121120\n- text: Ride off withcha money, then clap in the air\n  start_ms: 121120\n  end_ms: 123100\n- text: Fire ina hole, fire ina hole\n  start_ms: 123100\n  end_ms: 127290\n- text: Yo, fire ina hole, fire ina hole\n  start_ms: 127290\n  end_ms: 129270\n- text: Fire ina hole, fire ina hole\n  start_ms: 129270\n  end_ms: 131260\n- text: Yo, fire ina hole, fire ina hole\n  start_ms: 131260\n  end_ms: 135140\n- text: Yo, fire ina hole, yo, yo, yo\n  start_ms: 135140\n  end_ms: 137120\n- text: This is for dem niggaz on da bricks holdin' down they block\n  start_ms: 137120\n  end_ms: 140270\n- text: For my nigga Carlton Fisk, a kid who stay up in the box\n  start_ms: 140270\n  end_ms: 143210\n- text: Ain't no Christmas ever since Santa scratched my name\n  start_ms: 143210\n  end_ms: 145220\n- text: Off the gift list, shit ain't been the same since the pain\n  start_ms: 145220\n  end_ms: 148340\n- text: No forgiveness, dead man talkin' 'bout he lifted\n  start_ms: 148340\n  end_ms: 150340\n- text: I'm livid, hands around the throat of a critic\n  start_ms: 150340\n  end_ms: 153310\n- text: Yo, Doctor, prescribe me a drug that can knock\n  start_ms: 153310\n  end_ms: 155250\n- text: A mule on his ass, take the blast out Binaca\n  start_ms: 155250\n  end_ms: 158280\n- text: For real doe, arsenic production that kill slow\n  start_ms: 158280\n  end_ms: 160230\n- text: Your eardrums like a happy hooker with a dildo\n  start_ms: 160230\n  end_ms: 163260\n- text: I spas on anyone who show his ass\n  start_ms: 163260\n  end_ms: 165350\n- text: I got the mob with me plus a full tank of gas\n  start_ms: 165350\n  end_ms: 168390\n- text: Yo, yo when me and Meth swarm\n  start_ms: 168390\n  end_ms: 169320\n- text: You need a net to cover you\n  start_ms: 169320\n  end_ms: 170360\n- text: Turn the rap game into W C W\n  start_ms: 170360\n  end_ms: 172470\n- text: Off the rope I hang glide to the throat\n  start_ms: 172470\n  end_ms: 175450\n- text: Straight beef without French Fries and a Coke\n  start_ms: 175450\n  end_ms: 177460\n- text: Doc's da name, da burglar, I serve ya\n  start_ms: 177460\n  end_ms: 180500\n- text: The lethal 5 from Riggs and Murtoch\n  start_ms: 180500\n  end_ms: 182570\n- text: Then skart out my whip with ran down tires\n  start_ms: 182570\n  end_ms: 185530\n- text: With a chicken I met who hand out fliers\n  start_ms: 185530\n  end_ms: 187600\n- text: Look, I'm an Aries, I don't have it\n  start_ms: 187600\n  end_ms: 190670\n- text: My crew large enough to walk and cause traffic\n  start_ms: 190670\n  end_ms: 192650\n- text: Bounce like box springs on your kraftmatic\n  start_ms: 192650\n  end_ms: 194620\n- text: Before you be suin' Doc for malpractice\n  start_ms: 194620\n  end_ms: 197700\n- text: You couldn't bang from start, your girl see you\n  start_ms: 197700\n  end_ms: 200750\n- text: Beat up and shit, get a change of heart\n  start_ms: 200750\n  end_ms: 202810\n- text: Flaming darts is spittin', name the mark\n  start_ms: 202810\n  end_ms: 204770\n- text: My impact tore JFK plane apart\n  start_ms: 204770\n  end_ms: 207710\n- text: Fire ina hole, fire ina hole\n  start_ms: 207710\n  end_ms: 210860\n- text: Fire ina hole, fire ina hole\n  start_ms: 210860\n  end_ms: 213880\n- text: Fire ina hole, fire ina hole\n  start_ms: 213880\n  end_ms: 215890\n- text: Fire ina hole\n  start_ms: 215890\n  end_ms: 217870\n- text: Fire ina hole, fire ina hole\n  start_ms: 217870\n  end_ms: 220900\n- text: Fire ina hole, fire ina hole\n  start_ms: 220900\n  end_ms: 223930\n- text: Fire ina hole, fire ina hole\n  start_ms: 223930\n  end_ms: 226010\n- text: Fire ina hole\n  start_ms: 226010\n  end_ms: 227010\n- text: Yo, yo, yo, fire ina hole, yo, yo, yo, yo, yo\n  start_ms: 227010\n  end_ms: 237180\n- text: Mr. Meth, Funk Doctor, Mathematics, on the track\n  start_ms: 237180\n  end_ms: 247200\n- text: For my niggaz in Da Bricks, for my niggaz on Shaolin\n  start_ms: 247200\n  end_ms: 254250\n- text: Worldwide to my whole crew, P P C\n  start_ms: 254250\n  end_ms: 259350\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 259350\nplain: |-\n  Come on, come on, state your business\n  Come on, let's make it hot\n  Come on, word, let's make it hot\n  Come on, let's make it hot\n  Come on, let's make it hot\n  Hardcore, to make them brothers act fools\n  Come on, come on\n  With all due respect to the game, I'm the P H enom\n  Not ready for prime time beyond, extinction\n  Change your way of thinkin' or begone\n  Fast the fuck out, somethin' stinkin'\n  Could it be the skunk or could it be that body in the trunk\n  Of my Lincoln? Continental style pop the pussy like a pimple\n  I'm fed up, I put it in your ear and fuck ya head up\n  Turnin' up the temperature, hold them kids that entered\n  The 36th, master mix shit, bio-hazardous, pretentious\n  Do it for the chemically imbalanced\n  State your business, pay me at the door\n  Iron Man, hear me roar on twelve inches\n  Shell shocked soldier in the trenches\n  Fire in the hole game commences\n  Third string rappers play the benches, reload\n  There'll be no repentance for souls just life sentence\n  With no chance for parole and that's real\n  Fire ina hole, yo, fire ina hole\n  Fire ina hole, fire ina hole\n  Fire ina hole, fire ina hole\n  Fire ina hole, fire ina hole\n  Fire ina hole, fire ina hole\n  Fire ina hole, fire ina hole\n  Fire ina hole, fire ina hole\n  Yeah, yeah, yeah, yo, yo, yo, gun downed at sundown\n  Run now from the bucks sound, touchdown\n  Your crew wanna punt now? Punk blaow\n  Swimmin' trunks torn up from the hunt down\n  Brakes lock 'em up now, a rich bitch knock 'em up now\n  A plucked out eyebrow gal\n  Naw, dawg, a broad got to be a huzzy\n  A hood rat that ride like the bride of Chucky\n  Walk through my hood, your jewels they scream, \"Tug me\"\n  Mind revolve' to reload like a SCSI\n  Doc, da bigfoot out for da squosh\n  Shell shocked like I'm six months in the bush\n  Fire ina hole, hikin' in the snow\n  With forty motherfuckers expirin' the globe\n  Footprints of timbs and wallabee soles\n  We case the place like Barnaby Jones, Homes\n  Lay it down like plats in ya hair\n  Ride off withcha money, then clap in the air\n  Fire ina hole, fire ina hole\n  Yo, fire ina hole, fire ina hole\n  Fire ina hole, fire ina hole\n  Yo, fire ina hole, fire ina hole\n  Yo, fire ina hole, yo, yo, yo\n  This is for dem niggaz on da bricks holdin' down they block\n  For my nigga Carlton Fisk, a kid who stay up in the box\n  Ain't no Christmas ever since Santa scratched my name\n  Off the gift list, shit ain't been the same since the pain\n  No forgiveness, dead man talkin' 'bout he lifted\n  I'm livid, hands around the throat of a critic\n  Yo, Doctor, prescribe me a drug that can knock\n  A mule on his ass, take the blast out Binaca\n  For real doe, arsenic production that kill slow\n  Your eardrums like a happy hooker with a dildo\n  I spas on anyone who show his ass\n  I got the mob with me plus a full tank of gas\n  Yo, yo when me and Meth swarm\n  You need a net to cover you\n  Turn the rap game into W C W\n  Off the rope I hang glide to the throat\n  Straight beef without French Fries and a Coke\n  Doc's da name, da burglar, I serve ya\n  The lethal 5 from Riggs and Murtoch\n  Then skart out my whip with ran down tires\n  With a chicken I met who hand out fliers\n  Look, I'm an Aries, I don't have it\n  My crew large enough to walk and cause traffic\n  Bounce like box springs on your kraftmatic\n  Before you be suin' Doc for malpractice\n  You couldn't bang from start, your girl see you\n  Beat up and shit, get a change of heart\n  Flaming darts is spittin', name the mark\n  My impact tore JFK plane apart\n  Fire ina hole, fire ina hole\n  Fire ina hole, fire ina hole\n  Fire ina hole, fire ina hole\n  Fire ina hole\n  Fire ina hole, fire ina hole\n  Fire ina hole, fire ina hole\n  Fire ina hole, fire ina hole\n  Fire ina hole\n  Yo, yo, yo, fire ina hole, yo, yo, yo, yo, yo\n  Mr. Meth, Funk Doctor, Mathematics, on the track\n  For my niggaz in Da Bricks, for my niggaz on Shaolin\n  Worldwide to my whole crew, P P C\n"}]