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Ghostface Killah
Ghostface Killah


Background information
Birth name Dennis Coles
Born May 9, 1970
Origin Staten Island, New York, United States
Genre(s) Hip-hop
Contemporary R&B
Years active 1991—present
Label(s) Epic Records
Def Jam Recordings
Associated acts Wu-Tang Clan
MF DOOM
Theodore Unit
Rakim
Website Website



Music World  →  Lyrics  →  G  →  Ghostface Killah  →  Albums  →  More Fish

Ghostface Killah Album


More Fish (12/12/2006)
12/12/2006
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Miss Info Celebrity Drama Skit
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. . .


[Intro: Ghostface Killah (Tracy Morgan)]
Listen, man, it's going on 2007, g
I wanna wish ya'll muthafuckas a happy New Year
(New Year, let's give it up) How your 2006 was son?
(Go and get up, get up, ya'll niggaz is crazy
Ya'll know how I get, my 2006 off, nigga I broke two of my toes, nigga
It's going down nigga, that's what's up, ya'll niggaz is crazy)
That's why you came to the show with, um, peanut butter on your toes, that day
(Nigga, why you gotta bring everything up? Man, everybody here enjoying)
Nah, son, because your shit's - (crazy, a happy New Year
This muthfucka) Nah, boy, yo (no, man...) But your shit was looking mad timid
That was the funniest shit in the book, that day (Find out who...)
That's your toes right there! (Who the fuck said I broke 'em)
Yo, how you put them little baby cast on there? (Just a little punk ass nigga man)
How you put them in the baby cast like that, though, son?
Come on, son, that's what I was, that shit, yo
Let me tell you something, I ain't gon' front, yo
I love you and all that, son (then say that!)
You my first cousin, (then say that, Ghost, say that)
You my first cousin, though, but come on, man
You know how it is, son, I ain't seen you in years though
(You know how I get down) How you had peanut butter on your toes though, son?
(Cuz the nigga asked for it, man, shit I fucked a nigga up, man)
Yo, it's New Year's, yo (get back to me, muthafucka)
Yo, it's New Year's son (fuck ya'll niggaz, this ain't no
Yo, Ghostface, my gold is fifty hundred, I want my money)
NINE! EIGHT! SEVEN! SIX! FIVE! FOUR! THREE! TWO! ONE!
I love you my nigga, Happy New Year's!
Fuck that, let's get this paper!

[Ghostface Killah:]
Yo, yo I was sitting at the table thinking
How the hell do I murder these M.C.'s, sting 'em like bees
My attitude's that of Hannibal, not compatible
Why I would damage you, fuck, if I drink, then ran with you
Ya'll chose to war, so called rich niggaz wanna verse the poor
I'll rob you first, then go to your earth, it's not gon' hurt
If you try calling the cops, it's not gon' work
All you gotta do is lay in the dirt, we dug a hole
And my guns weight more, yo, then Gerald Levert
With more blubber than a Ruben Studdard, I grease the pan
With rhymes, and ya'll can't believe it's not butter
I told ya'll to chill, stretch all out like franks on the grill
With a classic deal, I'm like a farmer when I'm playing the field
Just painting my seeds, in 20-06, it's time to build

[sample x4:] "Ghost is back..."

[Ghostface Killah:]
Yo, I cooked up the beef, seasoned up the meat
Fried 'em, tried 'em, took it out the grease
Ghost came to steal the show, since you loving your broad
I'ma lay back and reveal your hoe
She a brain therapist, chick you can't kiss
Opened up her legs, like "ooh, I smell fish"
Yeast infection, queen, she love dick
Shivlered up tits, she'll bang the whole Knicks
Now how can I salute you, kid, I'm planning to do you
Crucial, blow rugers at who you with
We bump heads while we out in the street, it's all good
My trigger fingers'll matter, kick the back of your feet
And your red monkey jeans, is looking like a scene from Baghdad
That's bad, flags red, dirt beds
Ya'll niggaz is eating, crystal meth' heads
We pissed out, wrist out, with the best threads
Knockin' niggaz off, knockin' niggaz out
Fucking up rappers is what I'm about
I'm holding Staten Island down, ya'll cats must be dead
Keep fronting and lose your head

[sample x4:] "Ghost is back..."

[Ghostface Killah:]
You can decide on who's liver
Toney Knight Rider, wisdoms love my saliva
Slobbin' 'em down, hoggin' the mound
Pitchin' 'em eightballs, robbing the town
Don't let your gangsta, get you murked up
Faggot ass homeys done got you worked up
Rappers can't come around, ya'll wide rap is dead
Freeze, nigga, come off the bread
Whole horizon, hit 'em with toast, a rap arising
Ringing the boys bell like Verizon
Eyes, looking suprised, that the four-five
Yo Ghost, don't even do it, I got some more pie

[Outro: Ghostface Killah]
Word up, aiyo I'd like to give a mean shout out to Staten Island
Holding the boy down, ya'll know what it do
Theodore Unit, Big Trife, Wigs, Du-Lilz
Yo Supa! Ya'll know what it is, man, yaknowhatimsaying?
My West Brighton niggaz... let's see that money come first
That's right, yeah, get up in that building
You tell L.A. Reid and them niggaz to crack that safe
Word up, cause we coming, J-Love
Aiyo Den, what up, Ice, C-Allah, what up, yo Un
You knowhatimean, yo, Buck, hold ya head.. aiyo Bean
You know what it is, tell E, I said what's the deal, man
We gon' get this paper, this year, yo Irf, you know how we do
I ain't even gotta say that much, TaVon, come holla at your boy
I know my jack be off all the time, but yo, that don't mean shit, nigga
Come through and holla, nigga, word up, this what it is
Yo, S.G., that's my son doola... ya'll niggaz keep ya'll hands off him
Youknowhatimean? Yo Ant Acid.. what's the deal, aiyo Tech, yo Plex
Your boys here, nigga... word up, it's all about paper this year, nigga, word up
I got mad babies to feed, I got bills nigga, one...
Wu-Tang for life, Cappadonna, Raekwon, what up?
"Ghost got the juice, now"

. . .


(feat. Sun God, Trife Da God)

[Trife Da God]
Uh, thirty thousand feet up in the air, up in the lear
Dressed in a black tux, forty cal. tucked, strapped to the chair
Half asleep, hopping out of my seat, caught in the daze
Turned around and seen a white man's face, covered in shades
I must of passed out, can't remember shit before I blacked out
Three more niggas approaching, holding they mack's out
One spoke, gave me the keys, to a boat
Reached in his trenchcoat, and pulled out a yellow envelope
Which contained twenty thousand in cash, a photograph
Of a Colombian nigga with a long mustache
Miguel Sanchez, keep a gun hidden in his pants leg
With armed bodyguards, surveillance around his land spread
He runs a billion dollar organization, under investigation
Plus he's wanted by immigration
Now I'm stuck, crazy look on my face, shocked in amazement
How the fuck I get involved with these federal agents
They knew my background, knew about what happened down in Sac Town
They knew about the wrap down south, they laid they backs down
Said I had two decisions, take out Miguel and his cartel
Or spend the rest of my life in prison
A classified mission on some James Bond shit
007 style, love to get some straight convicts
Now I'm pondering, my thoughts wandering, got my girl on the phone
Told her to kiss little Jay cuz I'll be gone again
Honey, I can't sleep, she sucking her teeth
If everything go good, baby, I'll be home in a week
Pinching myself just to see if I'm dreaming, call up my team and
Meet me by the docks in Miami, I'll fly out this weekend

[Sun God]
I got you nigga, four-four pop two niggas
That drug lord that we want, got a spot for niggas
And if we kill 'em, it's back to the block, my nigga
He carried rugers, thirty four shots I figure
He only holla at the kid, when there's money involved
They pack shotguns, hollow tips, dummies and all
When me and Trife doing right together, got no choice
But give us ten, like we selling white together
Left side, four-five, right, black beretta
Taking trips over seas, flipping packs for better
Every flight a hundred stacks and better, so grind hard
Get ya money up, get on your grillies, don't mind odds
Fuck a cop car, throw on some chumpers, and drop charge
Hit the block hard, it's kinda hard being G-O-D
If he owe Trife, he owe me
Load up the mack grounds, M-I-A, call that the jack town
Tell niggas I'm on my way, coming back down
Miguel, Mr. Sanchez, it's a wrap, now
Theodore extorting your shit, handing out packs, now
I used to listen to 50 and jam "Back Down"
Now I slang fifty kilo's where I'm at now
Fifty a wop, purple top, nigga, I'm back, clown
Crystal bottles, Grey Goose for the chat lounge
Channel seven news, older dude, murder gat found

. . .


(feat. Trife Da God, Cappadonna & Killa Sin)

[Intro: Ghostface Killah]
Oh shit, look at them, they running on foot
They picked the car up, they on some Flintstone shit
Oh shit... and them niggaz stuck together
On some Siamese shit... yo

[Ghostface Killah:]
Yo, classic murders, slick gun material
Burnt up bodies that rock with no burial
Hammers that hardly work, go to work
Like a slave on a hot day, with no water
Blow you for props, in the cop's face, might get knocked up
Jakes that play hero, they can get popped up
Face fallin' off they cheekbone, gotta take meat
From they ass, to sow it back, I'm a beast, holmes
It's ground beef, in the streets, so we street's clone
Like fresh fruit, from a tree, so the heat's blown
Your momma missing, your boys are crying
Cut ya balls out your nutsack, the chinks are buying
Shit bags is like gift bags, you get it for free
If you master fronting, classic cutting
You keep stunting, them gem star'll rip something
Look homey, it's the bloody sweepstakes
Glove club you down in the club, how you like that, sweet cakes?

[Trife Da God:]
Yo, it was a minute after twelve, when the tragedy struck
Niggaz emptied on son, and left 'em leaning right in Valerie's truck
The red Cherokee blood was pouring out his head heavily
The only motive for murder was wetter, either jealousy
The found him slumped over the wheel, horn blowing
Bullet holes showing, property stolen, motor still going
Driving side door, waves scoping, the window is broken
Glass back and shredded his grill, his collar was soaking
He probably knew the killas, cause they jinxed him with ease
Cops hold the perimeter, thirsty, looking for leads
Knocking on doors, questioning tenants, the lieutenant
Was the first to arrive on the scene, he knew he was finished
DeWayne Roberts knew him in college, mid-twenties
Stopped being brolic, V.A. driver's license in his wallet
The last call on his mobile phone was back to home
Sorry, Miss Amonia's son was found dead with two in his dome

[Cappadonna:]
This be the bird's eye view of things, look how we doing things
We stick niggaz up and we take they rings
Mission Impossible, Theodore Unit, we unstoppable
Spit razors out of our mouth and start chopping you
Bank robbers, blood jakes out with the obstacle
Ropes hanging down from the roof, my parachute
Soaking water, heat smoking, we scrape and we Pillage, man
Wherever we broke in, Theodore, pulverize
Boat rides and tours, smashed 'em in the crib with they coconut straws
Dudes step off the scene, black face and four-four
The CREAM that we stack up, cake and whores

[Killa Sin:]
Cash in abundance, the cats that I run with
Got gats at a motel, and splashed by the hundreds
I don't ask if I want it, my attitude is running
I don't ask if I want it, my attitude is running, yup
Mega ice neck, with some fish, with some fish dishes
Rakim gems, my mind shine is what my weight misses
Anything else is uncivilized, send the kind of niggaz
A tremendous spy, you can see the venom by
My nine leave a ten to buy, I don't need my men to ride
I'm in the moshing squad, beside the car that's highly energized
Been advised, before, that fucking with I, is genocide
Many men have died, from playing games from what they feel inside
Brawl with it in me, put it on my enemy
Be warned, defending me, like killing off a Kennedy
I silly song M.C.'s get sent on base
Type of nigga spit the Remy or laugh in ya face
This dig in my waste, is mastery, step out of place
Shatter that ass, like glass, and break fast like a neglige
Play with the biscuit, dick, don't even risk it
I, snatch up my misses, and dash on the interstate

. . .


I'm six foot two and a half
With shoes on make it three even
Been shot but I'm still breathing
Sent niggaz back to Pittsburgh
With they necks wrapped up no lie
See that's what happens when slugs fly
Doves cry when a thug dies
It might rain if you're a love guy
Glocks we tote 'em in belong pawn shops where we resold 'em
And going in we let the fiends hold 'em
Fake aliases, no driver's license or socials
But we cold cheek shit, so many hammers left the clerk speechless
Outdoors my niggaz is dirty
Rollin' smoke in the back seat sippin' orange juice
Bumping Blackstreet, suede wallets, Wallabees
Pea soup Clarks, music blastin', laughin' with the whip in park
Bodies for lunch, they eat those
Old school guns is like old albums, clean 'em and they keep goin'

[Chorus:]
Hey man it's rough outside
Crack heads is buyin' all night
Handguns is necessary
Fuck around you might lose your life
Anywhere in and outta town B
The same every hood it's so real
That you gotta be on your grizzly
If not then you might get pideeled

Like one day right over a powerful dice game in Minnesota
We hit the mall up for kicks
Slid, in other words bounce, tip the chauffeur
To get that cheddar cheese back we lost from earlier
Get back the dices shaking, stretching my arm like Troy Aikman
What's in the bank? Nigga what? Twelve grand bowl 'em
No little shit on the floor roll 'em
That's what I do (sounds of dice shaking)
Six 'em girls, hit his kicks
I'm a still show that motherfucker he fish
Pound cake, beat that bitch
Holy smoke! I admire your roll
Two fours and a five, they all applause and he smiled
But confident me, yea I threw my twelve on the ground
Grab the dice, blew on 'em
Passed off the other thirty five thou, I'm doin' 'em
Nigga move shoot 'em, what's that? You roll a five?
Twenty or better y'all, I'm taking all side bets! Everybody spread out!
Watch the magic number that my pretty hand let out
My first roll was one two four, picked 'em up
Somebody screamed out, “Tony Starks headed for the dust off!”
I'm like hell no I'm headed for the gun store
Punch you in your motherfuckin' face like Spongebob
Watched his face when he aced, the place got quiet
Bowled like twenty forty times, my arm got tired
Couldn't hit a point, not even a deuce
Took a swig of my man's goose
Anything just to give me a damn boost
Then out came a wonderful six
Holy shit! Stack that shit
Yo Trife Dies snatch that fuckin' cream quick
That was one one six, one sixteen point C
And I don't care about no motherfuckin' Royce Green
He pulled out, he pointed at me, I pointed at him
My main man pointed at them
They pulled their guns out and pointed at him
And crazy shells they was coming in

[Chorus:]
Hey man it's rough outside
Crack heads is buyin' all night
Handguns is necessary
Fuck around you might lose your life
Anywhere in and outta town B
The same every hood it's so real
That you gotta be on your grizzly
If not then you might get pideeled

[Outro:]
This just in, breaking news
Today in Downtown Minnesota, a tragic shootout occurred at 5:23 pm
An alleged witness says things went haywire over a dice game
Two black males were shot in their buttocks
Leaving one critically wounded
Two others were pronounced dead on the crime scene
At a nearby hospital, three New York men are recovering
In stable condition but are being held under police supervision at this time
For on the spot coverage
Theodore TV, this is Dusty Williams signing off
Now back to Tony Starks already in progress

. . .


(feat. Trife Da God & Mr. Maygreen)

[Intro: Ghostface Killah (Mr. Maygreen)]
Aiyo, what up party people (Yeah, my name's on the guest list)
This is the Wallabee kingpin in the building (As Mr. Maygreen... good evening...)
Right about now, I'm about to show you how good we are (I'm in the club, I'm)

[Chorus: Mr. Maygreen]
(Good), I look so, (good), the car look
(Good), I'm in the hood, and I'm okkkkkk
(Good), the jewels look, (good), the girls look
(Good), they all from around the wayyyyy
(Good), hey there, (good), look at you
(Good), me, I'm just passing byyyyyyy
(Good), look at her, (good), time out
(Good), I think I'll give the game a tryyyyy

[Ghostface Killah:]
Aiyo, my rose was good, plus my face was good
The way I wear my jeans up over my boots is hood
And my cash is good, the grass, spread it out, over the hash is good
The grasp who be hypecast is good
That's the bird that fucked the game up
Cut the head off lames and platinum niggaz, your boy done came up
Got my aim up, favorite bling with a millennium chains
Chilling, in the staircase, surrounded by killings
With bank rolls, bang those, bang your main hoes
You was in love with the pussy, it ain't the same though
Cuz I'm good, she's good, so you should be good
Hit her with the stiff one, she callin' me wood
And we don't love those hoes, with they flat butts caked up
And tipped up toes, need an ill plastic surgeon to fix they nose
Cuz they shit is too fat like an adidas sole
Don't even touch my gold, I'm good

[Hook: Mr. Maygreen]
I know you heard it a thousand times
Not quite like my design
You say that's what you looking for
Gator boots walk through the door, now

[Bridge: Ghostface Killah (Mr. Maygreen)]
(Good) Theodore's good, (good), my team is good
(Good) My robes is good, (I'm so good)
(Good) My moms is good, (good), my style is good
(Good) My queen is good, yeah, come on, (I'm so good)
(Good) The days is good, (good), babies is good
(Good) Wifes is good... uh-huh
(Good) The hood is good, (good), God is good
(Good) Everything is good, come on, let's go

[Ghostface Killah:]
Goose over ice cubes, pass the O.J.
Two light skinned wizzes, want Ghost, on both ways
Come here, sit on my lap, it's not a gat, sugar
Have a seat, don't be afraid to move back
Feel that? You'se a nasty girl
Big butt, slim gut, I'll crash your world
It's not polite to bend over in Starkey face
Sheer lace, fat ass, got want me to taste that
Lodi dodi, with a coke shaped body
And my jewels hang low like my balls in the potty
And I dare ya'll to try to rob me
Theodore U, we got the army
A-Town to Mariner's Harby
Wild West, Now Born, go hard, G.
Killa Hill, Stapletown, Port Rich' kids
Pack heat, like I was pulling out biscuits

[Hook]

[Chorus]

[Trife Da God:]
When we on the block bubbling rocks, watching for cops
Holding glocks in and out of the spots, (it's all good)
When we overseas, getting that cheese, whipping the hottest V's
Blowin' exotic trees, playa, (it's all good)
When I'm in the whip, sunk in the six, drunk off the liqs
Pull up, stunting, fronting for chicks, (it's all good)
When we on stage getting them Grammy's, snatching them panties
Jetskiing off the shores of Miami, (it's all good)

[Hook]

[Interlude: Ghostface Killah]
Yeah... told ya'll before, another Theodore Production
This is how we go in the 06 to 07, come on, come on

[Chorus]

. . .


(feat. Sun God)

[Intro: Sun God]
Sun God... get 'em, official...

[Sun God]
I stay far from my opponents, pardon me dogs
That's why lead the call, they moving up on us
But them g's on the corners, move when I move
That's a warning, or I'mma have my goons spin a garment
Think it's sweet, and try to creep or run up on us
Shit'll get deeper than twelve foot, and you be leaking out of order
Don't beef, if you ain't beefin' for no quarters
Cuz pain is money, you float funny when you surfin' the water
I'm that dude slangin' pack by the border
I love my life, I live it twice, cuz it's up to me sorta
You a fool with a mental disorder, and it's probably your daughter
That really love me, for the shit that I taught her
Will Smith on the guest list, pops is the king
I'm the fresh prince, forty oil tune, kick ya chest in
Us that got the universe confession, pardon your dame
I'm new to the game, but true to my lessons

[Chorus: Ghostface Killah]
Jeans, hoods, guns, crack

[Ghostface Killah]
Visions of me swallowing crack, being chased by jake
And the sound of the razor keep hitting the plate
And tooters is flab with rugers, with daggers and them jeans
We chew through it, like we coming down off woolas
And my P.O., she half Creole, I move from Philly to Dallas
With true talent, like my name is T.O.
So when I piss, I gotta piss slow, she know I kick them Vasine bottles
Cuz if I'm dirty, I ain't letting it go
Your project steps is Ajax down, dry blood
Maintenance men with the scrub brush, scraping the ground
Diapers, baby rattles and broke lighters, I led many
Horses to water, just to see if they like it
Taste my, Betty Crock', ready rock, bet he cock, now
News flash, my nigga ridin' L, laid a cop down
Any of ya niggas want beef, I will stop clowns
I got a bad ox' fifth, now how the glock sound?

[Chorus]

[Ghostface Killah (Sun God)]
Aiyo, what up S.G.? (Aiyo, what's poppin' my nigga
I'm just oil in the toolies, exercising my trigger
Finger, I got the biggest bangers) Yeah, I got a crispy stainless
Your mans ain't fucking those hoes, they just a bunch of gamers
(Them head shots, neck shots, probably blow they brains in
I'm so close to the edge, pushin' they fucking face in)
I bet you now, them muthafuckas really start complaining
(No hesitation, my reputation'll leave 'em chaining)
We go hard, like the NARC's when we start invading
(I copped the license and registration, to cock and aiming)
It's all entertainment (And all my niggas made it)
We hard body like Wu-Tang and Iron Maiden
(I keep the iron blazing, hands hurt
Like a bitch when she putting braids in, I think it's so amazing)
We ran trains for hours, up in the Days Inn
Hood rats and crack motels, we seen baking

[Chorus]

[Outro: Ghostface Killah]
[Sounds of crunching and eating]
Yeah, good...

. . .


[Intro: scratched up samples]
"You out there, on now"
"Sorry... that's word, I'm not the herb"
"Understand what I'm saying, saying, saying"
"It's the hardcore"
"Set it off, rusty, low down"
"Following me, it be the God"
"Whatever, whatever"
"God all"
"All New York, ight"

[Ghostface Killah]
Yo, aiyo, the Wally man's coming, you can hear his chain dangle
Brolic arm, check out the ankle
Best cuts, diamond sittin' sideways, like they sit in the cup
You can pour Goose on it, juice on it, two Jamaican sluts
On the streets, cousin, word life, them big boy Toys'R'Us
Got them S5 fifties Maybach's, push suede back
Four hundred g's, on the concrete, save that
Like James Brown, it's the Big Payback
Same place you front's where you get laid at
Strong arm a nigga for real, we eat ya food
Like dog, muthafucka, in replace of a meal
Give you a two hour car chase, flying through lakes and bushes
Holding the wheel, still burning the swishes
Exotic killas who bribe to kill us, and we pay for a tab
Don't matter what size the bill is
We don't need your support, wack speech your thought
Just to rhyme my shit when the tape cut off
The price of fame, a dope chain, the same chain
Yo, he tapped to the roof, watch the block, watch 'em hang

[Chorus: Ghostface Killah]
From Broad Street down to Milledge
You fucking with experienced killas
Mean wolves, silver back gorillas
Them Theodore kids' gorillas
You fucking with experienced killas
Silver back gorillas

[Ghostface Killah]
The grenade gonna hit like a bomb from Flex
The street is never at peace when I palm a tech
My enemies is sub, dude, I'm a black belt
The moves I do, is how Bruce stick Kareem Abdul
Same dudes give a bitch booze, stupid rich dudes
Crystal, chandellier ice, keep a wrist full
Cuz, if Lil' Jon, can ice his cup
I top that shit, and ice my nuts
See I'm a threat when it comes to rocks
At 3 A.M., you like damn, who put the sun on the block
Is he crazy? Illuminate like the Son of God
And still pull up in the hoopted out rented car
With dust and weed on him, knock the neighborhood bully out
Take his gun and pee on him
The magazines cant develop my flicks
The negatives came, and printed out them c-note chips
Keep the heat flaming, beats banging, bottle of weed stanking
Competition, yo, I'm giving out strict spankings
Burn 'em like bacon, some want Satan
In the hell fire, screaming, yo I'm sorry for faking, baking

[Chorus]

. . .

Miss Info Celebrity Drama Skit

[No lyrics]

. . .


(feat. Shawn Wigs)

[Intro]
This is why the World Series of Poker
Is decided over a no limit poker tournament
Players, pro's even, can't handle the pressure of the game
They consider no limit the only pure game left

[Chorus: Ghostface Killah]
We gotta know how to play your cards, have a mean poker face
And know an ace deuce can take out your pocket broads
This is no limit hold 'em, you gotta know when to fold 'em
If you plan on, staying on top
You can't lose, what you don't push into the pot
You can't make much either, if you a believer of luck
Go all in, if you're feeling your cards, deep in your gut

[Shawn Wigs]
It was a late Saturday night, big chips, we had a lotta
Theodore performed at the Plush Brigatta
It was an hour in, big chip leader of the game
Caught pocket jacks and flopped two more of the same
Looking at quads, waiting for someone to bluff
So I checked til someone said "I had enough"
I'm raising a thousand, son I pay to see the river
Caught an ace and his face, was a straight up giver
He had three now, must of caught two in the hole
A full boat, I'm about to sink ship, tell him to fold
He laughs, raises his fifty g's, please I need chip count
The pit boss, swear I flip over, you gon' flip out
I'm all in, here to win, I rep Staten Island
He called it, I showed four jacks, he started wilding

[Interlude:]
This son of bitch..
All night, he set me up, he check, check, he trapped me!

[Chorus]

[Shawn Wigs]
It was a cash game, 100/200 dollar table
Me and Johnny Mack sitting, God willing and able
July 23rd and 4th, the lions is out
It's the month of the Leo, we gon' win with no doubt
Bunch of high rollers, laughing like he know we're low in the amateurs
I buy him for the macks, twenty G's, I'mma damage ya
Couple of chuckles, broken glasses, all tinted
I'mma put ya'll all on tilt, give me a minute
So I check raise 'em, bluff 'em, ain't showing my cards
Two four off two, ya'll ain't no superstars
I should of been at the table, World Series of Poker
I'm up 80 G's already, ya'll a bunch of jokers
Now they all on tilt, raising, I call 'em all in
With pocket three's, for 80 G's, I'm ready to fall in
Flop two aces, caught my three on fourth street
A four hundred thousand dollar pot boy, life's sweet

[Chorus]

[Outro]
He beat me.. straight up
Pay him, pay Shawn Wigs his money

. . .


(feat. Redman, Shawn Wigs)

[Intro: Ghostface Killah]
Theodore Roosevelt...
It's the Ed Sullivan Show, ladies & gentlemen
Here we go... come on, Theodore, Toney...

[Hook: Ghostface Killah]
This one's for the boys and the girls on the streets
Make sure you listen careful to the words I speak
Before you get the drawers, and the bitch wanna eat
Make sure you let 'em know to sign the pussy receipt, and

[Chorus: Ghostface Killah]
Greedy bitches, greedy, greedy, bitches (come on)
Greedy bitches, greedy, greedy, bitches (and you)
Greedy bitches, greedy, greedy, bitches (say what)
Greedy bitches, yo, the hoes ate the Oreo's

[Ghostface Killah]
Word to my momma, yo, I hate ya'll greedy bitches
Ya'll greasy, after the club, want the piece of chicken
Hotel rooms, you better not touch the phone
Uh-uh, leave that roof service book alone
Don't ask me, for food, I ain't ask you
Cut through the bullshit, you can just pass the pool
And ya fat friend you brought, she can crash too
But if ya stomach growling hard, I'mma laugh, boo
No Domino's, Papa John's and Waffle House
Frontin' on the pussy, you can throw the dick in your mouth
Straight cock, we in the halls, yo there's other twat
In Trife room, where them other hoe bitches flock
Wigs got it popping, Du-Lilz went bird shopping
He got bird seeds, he's probably getting head whopping
Fucking with you, yo I hope you ain't cock blocking
I want some pussy now, if not, you can get to hopping
Bounce, muthafuckas talking about you ain't giving up no pussy

[Chorus]

[Shawn Wigs]
Yo, this is for them greedy bitches, who wanna eat off my buck
Who get 99 bananas, cuz you fresh out of luck
I wanna fuck, and you try'nna get a sirloin steak
Little money, backstage passes, and some Oreo cake
You better split if the legs don't spread like wings
This is Theodore, we more than just suicide kings
Super groupie, that G on your chest stand for greedy
Caught a contact high, cuz we always bake ziti
Blow the gerder's, we just wanna puff and sleep
Not in my bed, I'm try'nna put nut in your cheek
Little squirrel, my twat team stay on alert
I pump iron to them pink panties under your skirt
Why try to scheme, my double stuff cream got 'em all
On a scavenger hunt, greedy bitch of the month
They want a table, when it's time to give pussy, they front
You can't play your boy Wigs, like I'm some kind of chump
That's right, get 'em out here, yo, Tone

[Chorus]

[Redman]
Yo, I get butter, nigga, like Land O' Lake
When bitches see me, they be quick to pump they brakes
But wait, before we fuck, let's make it clear
If you ask me for a dime... get the fuck out of here
Aiyo, you broke nigga, no bitch, you got it wrong
I'm still spending, from Red & Meth sitcom
What you doing? Stripping, grabbing on groin
I bet your momma proud of what you become
I'm on the block getting it, hip hop, getting it
Blunts got piff in it, new five, whipping it
Shorty like "Redman, buy me a cigarette"
Try'nna get me robbed at the store where her niggas at
Greedy bitch, hoods up, hoes down
Get money like Barry, looking for MoTown
And if I'm in your hood, bitch, high as a fuck
Clock the flavor, audio one, your time is up, bitch...

[Chorus]

. . .


(feat. Trife Da God, The Willie Cottrell Band)

[Intro: Ghostface Killah]
God's woman... what's going on?
I know things seem messed up sometime
You stressed out and you can't handle the situation
Sometime it feels like you lacking the guidance
And you don't know what to do... but stay strong
And keep in mind that he always loves you...
It's what it is... that's right sugar love
Come on...

[Chorus: Willie Cottrell]
Josephine, the times are getting tough
Seems to me... you just wont get enough
The rain, wont wash away, your sins...
You'll be here, to do them all over again...

[Ghostface Killah]
Yo, I know this chick from the hood named Courtney Cox
And her brain is easy to pick like faulty locks
She's awfully hot, asshole burning like tobasco
She used to be thick, it's like where the hell her ass go
Started smoking weed and graduated to the pipe
Thought that she could quit but her calculations wasn't right
Infactuated with the life of dope fiends and crack pushers
Prostituting for old pimps who mack hookers
Putting dope in the cook, searching for her vein
Tracks all over her arms, she never felt the pain
The monkey on her back is now a gorilla
Fiending for a hit knowing one day it's gon' kill her
The clinic didn't help (nope) she just another young black woman
Destroying her pretty image and her health
Got me thinking to myself, damn, how could this happen?
I seen her on the corner, nodding off, sniffin' and scratching

[Chorus]

[Trife Da God]
She wakes up, with an urge to get high
Everyday, the same routine, needing the mood of fix to get by
So she reaches for her purse, grab the bag and the needle
Tie a sock her arm and start shooting up the diesel
Had a flesh back, screwing some dude up in his hashback
The night before, body still sore, holding her ass crack
A regular John, she met her through Tom
She passed out with the syringe still stuck in her arm
Dying a slow death, oh, she losing her dear mind
From the troubles of the world, feeling cursed by mankind
Uh, caught up in a desperate rage, was blessed with AIDS
Lost her appetite, hardly slept in days
Now it's too late, praying to Jesus, she fucked around
With the wrong penis, contaminated with diseases
Two months pregnant, carrying around her fetus
But they found her on Broad, in the dumpster, behind the cleaners

[Chorus]

[Interlude: Ghostface Killah]
Josephine, what's wrong, baby?
Come on...

[Ghostface Killah]
Yo, what your momma gonna think of you girl?
Her little baby's all doped up, strung out on the world
Try'nna make some quick cash for a hit of that stash
Listen, baby, you growing up much too fast
Uh, this goes out to every project and every ghetto
For those getting high, using drugs on every level
Living your life, day and night, getting stoned
You better leave those drugs alone, feel me?

[Willie Cottrell]
Up all night, under the party lights
Same old popping and party hopping
All of your so called friends, are leading you down the wrong road
Leading you back to crack, it's a known fact
It is time, that you need me, I'll be there, to help ya
I'll be your leaning pole when you're falling down
I'll be there, when you falling down (sooner or later)

. . .


(feat. Solomon Childs, Trife Da God)

[Intro: Trife Da God]
Uh-huh, whoo, just smoothing it out, right now
My nigga Halloween, we gon' get rich this year, nigga (see)
Sip on this little bit of odor, made brown
Zone out, turn the lights off
Ant boogie, what up? Uh-huh

[Trife Da God]
In the crib, with my wiz, getting my grown man on
Listening to classic soul, with the slow jams on
Smokey Robinson, Tears of a Clown, shedding tears
Popping beers, almost twenty five years in the town
I seen niggaz die off, like dandelions in the fall
Niggaz heard of Chip Banks and left him lying in the hall
Your boy Sandy Brock was ill, like Kobe Bryant with the ball
It's no exceptions, even the biggest giants gotta fall
Cuz we living in denial, but these lessons are vital
When marinating in the slums, you gotta practice survival
Now everybody wants to be next American idol
But these are more than just songs pressed up your vinyl
Being rich is a poor man's dream, and we all wanna shine
But we all can't green, knahImean?
Being rich is a poor man's dream, and we all wanna shine
But we all can't green...

[Chorus: Solomon Childs]
I grew up hard, maybe you grew up harder
But I ain't been to many operas
Or had money for private doctors
As harsh it sound, these just a tears of a clown
I grew up hard, maybe you grew up harder
The message is I'm too strong to hold down
I know the ledge, and I ain't planning to drown
As harsh it sound, these just a tears of a clown

[Trife Da God]
Momma ain't raised no fool, they say we gotta save the children
But first, we gotta save our spoons
I was taught not to waste my food
Even if I didn't like it, every scrap on my plate got chewed
Either you ate, or you didn't eat, the memories are bitter sweet
Used to get teased by my friends, cuz I had bigger feet
I think about them jokes and laugh, crack a smile
Cuz as a child, I never knew that being broke was bad
Growing up I was close to my dad, but that still didn't stop a nigga
From putting that coke in them bags
That was the past, now, I'm riding with the oak in the dash
Got jealous niggaz hating, big time, hoping I crash
I can't blame 'em, and on the same note, I can't change 'em
Let a nigga disrespect my shit, I'm gonna flame 'em
That's word to my son little Jay, my little homey
Ask niggaz how your boy get down, ain't nothing phony

[Chorus]

[Trife Da God]
Yeah, they say two heads are better than one, and in the process
I learned that slow progress, is better than none
That's why I'm still here persuing my goals, baking that bread
In the bakery, if I ain't out, doing no shows
I hit the block, once in a blue, and front with the crew
And show niggaz a good time, by getting drunk in the stud'
Some niggaz find happiness, with a blunt and a brew
They talented niggaz, but they just need something to do
It's kinda hard try'nna look beyond buildings and bricks
We can't condone broken homes, when our children is sick
Try'nna survive off the cereal and milk from the WIC
And all the good ones we got, be getting killed in the mix
He could of been the next Jordan, who knows, the next Emmitt
Young Tiger Woods, or the new Arthur Ashe of tennis
That's why I'm looking past the gimmicks, getting cash with Dennis
Criminal grind, we gonna smash the business

[Chorus]

[Outro:]
Yeah, when you see that big thing pull up
Don't be mad at us, man, be glad, we done made it from the projects
We done came up, Stapleton Houses, man
Straight up, Theodore, Toney Starks Enterprise

. . .


(feat. Sheek Louch)

[Intro: Ghostface Killah]
Uh-huh

[Ghostface Killah]
Greasy, razor blades, shots spray, military
Armor, keep blaze packed, all day, dog's day
Groundhog Day, ya'll bitch niggas got sweet hands, word
I know why, why? Ya'll all gay, pop off head
Get your top rocked, way across state
The pamphlet read, from seven to nine, don't hold that weight
Ya'll just bait, I'm a fisherman, I own this lake
When I catch fish, I fry 'em, to they back I flake
I smash ya'll muthafuckas like a seedless grape
And hang niggas like some ceiling fans in K-Mart plates
Feel me? Shake double earthquakes, give thanks, give shanks
Word to my momma, I cut the grass on you fucking snakes
Expose, don't tell, use a mo', round the way
Go-Go down, gone with the wind, he's a he-she
Bitch ass nigga for sale, like Magilla
Standing in the window, with a sign, "Yes, I fuck men, though"

[Interlude: Ghostface Killah (Sheek Louch)]
Aiyo, Sheek (What up, dog?)
Stab one of them niggas, nigga, word up!

[Sheek Louch]
Aiyo, my niggas is wetted, they drunk and they trying to eat
The hammers on 'em, and they ain't out looking for meat
I'm jumping out cars, I'm giving you permanent stars
Your hardest nigga, you can't compare him to ours
I'm sitting on crates, I'm missing probation dates
I'm stuck with this weight, my wifey period late
I'm hot as fuck, my truck keep getting tailed
It's like every week, one of mines getting jailed
Forgetting bail, piss test failed
Got parole on us, then wanna roll on us
I'm at my momma crib sleep, who told on us?
I'm sick to death, I'm on fire in the streets
Like in Back to the Future, when the car left
Ghost'll clap for me, fuck, rap for me
Yo, tell them niggas on the Island, get strapped for me
Het wet ya, and throw the stocking
On his face, like when he first met cha

[Ghostface Killah]
Yo, me and Sheek drug heads like a bottle of Goose
I had my road dogs follow your troops
Gorilla game, African tribe, Somalian crew
With a flow so sick, my high temperature'll body the flu
Crack heads get knocked out, right in front of the school
Slap 'em Sheek, wake his ass up, he can't even move
Cereal box is crack and ratchets, in the cocaine spot
My fiends'll box filled with coke head classics
Dope money, flood me rags of kush, heavy drags
Bodegas, I'm mad, my older sister Patty's a butch
Guns come out like my mother's teeth, watch how I'm throwing heat
The leg gravy be steaming over smothered beef
From eight-ball jackets to cops and robbers
My last drug run, I threw in two bricks to garbage
I wash my money in Woodlife, dunyy, sippin' on Folgers
Black jewels trucking, still come through bummy

. . .


(feat. Amy Winehouse)

[Amy Winehouse:]
Meet you downstairs, in the bar and heard
Your rolled up sleeves and your skull T-shirt
You say, why did you do it with him today?
And sniff me out like I was tanqueray

[Ghostface Killah:]
Yeah, yo, why you acting like you more trouble than Tony Starks and
You need to just 'walk away' like Kelly Clarkson
I know, we was fiend to sleep around town
But I figured you said that, that's how I get down
Nah of course, you was out there, messing around
I would of told you, once you go Ghost, you never go back
Try g'ing me, like I don't know how to mack
I'm a don, and, top of the line, I stay flying
Stop trying, to keep cuff analyzing
Using my credit cards to buy diamonds
We need to straighten this out, get to the bottom of it all
Let's crawl, before we start the war
Begin with two reasons why we need to talk
And stop popping up in my cribs all over New York
And, that's stalking, you such trouble and no good
Them fighting words in my block, when we in the hood

[Chorus: Amy Winehouse (Ghostface Killah)]
I cheated myself, like I knew, I would...
I told you, I was trouble...
And know, that I'm no good

[Interlude: Ghostface Killah] [scratched up]
You had to be a nasty girl and try to play me
Nasty girl, nasty girl, try to play me

[Ghostface Killah:]
Aiyo, I knew you was trouble when I first laid eyes on you
Temperature's so hot, the heat just rise with you
Let me ride with you, talk about your mistakes
You cheated yourself but these are the breaks
And it never be the same again, cause of old boy
But oh boy, together we make so much joy
In the sands and oh, what a wet, wee-wee
But you played me, so I had to roll up my sleeves and
Hunt you down, holding the next man's stacks
Now you sorry, tryin' bring that old thing back and
Act like we can rekindle that flame
It's a shame, how you can't get me off the brain
He that lame, you love how I bring the pain
Got the rug burns stinging and you saying my name
Say my name, that's right, I'm high post
Get the champagne, love, word up, we gon' toast

[Chorus]

[Interlude: Ghostface Killah] [scratched up]
You had to be nasty girl and try to play me
Nasty girl, girl...
You can't leave the kid... can't leave the kid...
Don't worry, I'ma be around forever, nasty girl...
Don't forget, I'ma be around forever, nasty...
Don't forget, I'ma be around forever...

[Amy Winehouse:]
Sweet reunion, Jamaica and Spain
We're like how we we're again
I'm in the tub, you're on the sink
Lick your lips, as I soak my feet

[Ghostface Killah:]
Yo, get the bath and body works, pumping your spice creams
Together like Cheech and Chong, we make nice dreams
Fight scenes, I take the good with the bad
Cuz you give the best brains that I ever had and
Anything worth having is hard to keep
I love you like my coffee so hot and so sweet
So let's, stick it out, so we never regret it
I could forgive the past, but I never forget it

[Chorus x2]

[Outro: Ghostface Killah][scratched up]
Got to forgive the past, but I never forget it
Nasty girl... nasty girl... try to play me
Nasty girl, you had to be a nasty and try to play me
Nasty girl... try to play me, try to play me
Nasty girl, got to forgive the past, but I never forget it...

. . .


Yea... that's right
Hardy Boys shit...uh huh
Smoke a Winston to this shit nigga
Word up bout to fuckin' throw ya head up, Yea

Yo, yo he got his stones from Greece
In mouth he had like thirty plus karats
Big ratchets, smoke cigars like a Bogart classic
Told niggaz if he dies he want a glass casket
Parents died when he was five years old
Made his way inside the US with Columbian Gold
A fake name and a passport
Benetton luggage, one sister, pretty thing, light skin
Niggaz will body over her like fuck it
With a scar by her left eye
Her brother Alex was extremely close, he sold coats and minks
Had trays put in toilets and sinks
Loved to roller skate, ninety nine did time up in Rahway
Came home blown, the thorough kings and soldiers
Never gave a fuck about that MC beef in Queens
Alex, he was a rich nigga
He had close to ten bodies under his belt
His man did the last one and got murdered himself
Took him a while to get his head together
Alex one day out in LA, made a call in New York
Told his man Oc, God it's goin' down, fly the whole team in for support
Remember that Ray shit that Jamie Foxx played? That was my shit
I never got paid, they got rich off a stolen script
In ninety eight I seen Charles on the Cali strip
Showed him the copyrights, his life in the real flick
In Braille, he read it in no time
Hit me with his math, said I'll give you some more lines
Real talk, stand up dude
Said how you like Jamie Foxx to replay you? He said yea that's cool
But under one circumstance, you think he can bow my walk, flip my talk and my hands?
I said sure why not, he can imitate anything trust me this young boy hot
Shook his hand then I bounced in the limo
Grabbed my cell, bit my cigar and then rolled down the window
Contacted Stony Brook and Roberts
Told them we got it in ten ?, yo Ray Ray signed it
Now we can move on and shoot this live shit
With mad options, Paramount and DreamWorks we shop it
Or Mandalay and New Line cop it
I go and get ten mil' and blow it on the independent market
But anyway down in PF Chains, I had a meeting with this rich investor
Said they'll throw twenty million on the kid's film only if he chose the cast
He was drunk, he was talkin' real fast
So I test his mouth, laid back then I put him on blast
Where exactly we gon' get this cash?
I gotta ill Gotti Gigante connect
Wise guys that kill Bulotti, catching bodies, earnin' respect
The waiter came in a dropped off the shrimp fried rice he ordered
I said thanks as he poured my water
Then out came the veggie rolls, sesame chicken and mint tea
Rice wine had me wanting to pee
Said excuse me I'll be right back, pardon me
Grabbed his glass and he nodded to me
Skated off to take a piss, the shit felt like a nut
Got back the dude vanished, briefcase, script, and all
Ask the waiter where he go, the motherfucker spoke Spanish

. . .


(feat. Eamon, Shawn Wigs)

[Shawn Wigs]
I know she gone, but I'm still holding on
Still smell the scent of her clothes, only God knows the pain
I cried til there's no tears left
Love my babies, we can't explain why she left
I'm all alone, feeling like my heart is blown
I do anything, just to see her come back home
But she chose not to hold on, and broke the bond
Left me with two babies like I'm Mr. Mom
But I'm handle what God gave me, cuz I'm a good man, and
Try to break me down, I'm strong and stay standing
Never imagine she gettin' down like that
Nine years in this together and you turning your back? Come on

[Chorus: Eamon (sample)]
(All we can do is) Hold on, yeah
(All we can do is hold on) That's what I'm do, yeah
(All we can do is) Hold on, yeah
(All we can do is) I'mma try to (Hold on) hey

[Shawn Wigs]
I can't believe you walked out of my life
Not saying I was perfect, babe, but I was willing to work it
I know the grass look greener, but you should of stayed beat
Let a good man go, so you can run free?
Could of held on, to these rough times, and made better ones
You left me when my music was down with no fun
Broke, I struggled so you made it through college
Cuz I had street smarts, but you had knowledge
Longevity, suppose to be together forever
Now you say we growing apart? Whatever, whatever
So I'mma open the cage and set my butterfly free
Just hoping it ain't too late when you come on back to me

[Chorus w/ Eamon ad-libs]

[Eamon]
But I'mma try to, hold on, and be strong
Cuz this time, you're so wrong
But I wait, and, I long
For you touch, but you're gone
All these tears, and all this pain
I'll never, never, feel the same
I keep control, I lift my soul
I sing my song, I hold on

[Chorus 2X w/ Eamon ad-libs]

. . .


[Intro: Ghostface Killah]
Damn, damn, ma, we ain't even have to go through it like that
It wasn't even, even that big, man
You know, nah, it's ight though
But anyway, yo, let me get that coat
Let me get those jeans, and let me get that rock on your finger
Oh, it's stuck? Then I'll take the whole finger than, man
Let me get those bags from Paris, and the puppies is staying, yo

[Chorus: Ne-Yo]
Come through the block, in the brand new Benz
Knowing that me and this dude ain't friends
(Ok girl) Yeah, what I did was wack
But you don't get your man back like that
Flossin' around, when I'm up in these streets
Knowing that me and this dude got beef
(Ok girl) Yo, what I did was wack
But you don't get your man back like that, no

[Ghostface Killah]
Aiyo, I should just bark on you, burn your car on you
Cuz I'm too much man, to leave a mark on you
You'se a bird you know that, giving that man
Ten points, like he about to blow that
He probably did, you swallow his kids?
In and out of jail, he a snail, he wasn't wilding on bids
In the summertime, I broke his jaw, had to do it, to him
Quick, old fashion, in the back of the mall
Me and him had 'mos forever, like I'm supposed to put him on
When he came home and told on Trevor
Had to bang on homey, ear blocks, out in spots
Throwing them shots, like 'sucker, you know me'
Stop fronting for them people out, side like you really ride
And you a silly chick, thought you was really live
But I guess I was wrong, I'mma holla at dog, and rip his head off word to his bond

[Chorus]

[Ghostface Killah]
Aiyo, I thought we was iller than that, all them kisses
And love yous, when jake came, you hid my packs
It was time a brother went to war, vests banged up
Staining in the kitchen, yo, holding a four
Sweatin' and breathing, bounced out of town for a weekend
Heard you had homey in the passenger seating
Honey, look, I'm a monster don, I do monster things
That's why I put your ass under my arm
Messing with him can bring bodily harm
And where you gonna hide in the streets when the body is gone
If it's one thing I learned that, never trust a female
On no scale, you just confirmed that
Bounce to your momma house, pack your shit
I don't care if you crying, you'se a ruthless chick
Gots to watch you, these eyeballs in my face'll spot you
My girl cousins, they gonna rock you

[Chorus]

[Ne-Yo]
Shorty what is you thinking bout
Didn't I put you down
Flyest whips, rollin' round like yea
That's the bosses chick, on the side
I might of had, one or two
Them silly broads wasn't nothing on you
Rolling with him, tryna get revenge
That's what you just don't do

[Chorus to fade]

[Outro: Ghostface Killah]
I'm a good dude, you see... yeah.....
Females out there that wanna be
Acting like they getting they little revenge off
Taking it further than what it really is
You know what I mean, playing yourself..
Nah what i mean... this is Don status, girl
You will have to hold that now..


. . .


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