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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  →  Put It On The Line

Ghostface Killah Album


Put It On The Line (11/22/2005)
11/22/2005
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. . .


(feat. Trife Da God)

[Intro]
Yeah Agent Burke here
(Check this shit out, nigga, I got a bust for you
Some major niggaz from New York, slinging rocks over here, majorly)
Where they at? Get that gun, where them matches at, come on!

[Ghostface Killah]
Cocaine trafficking, your boy's back again
Moving bricks like I got a degree in scaffolding
Fucking with some cats from Newark, half of them Jewish
Cool white boys riding around, blasting my music
And I'm taxin' them like Jackson-Hewitt, make sure them packs is moving
We out in Baltimore, the home of the Bruins
Up top the cops raiding my spot, my product got ruined
Drug case pending, but my lawyer is suing
Cuz them faggots put my arm in a tussle, let me start in the scuffle
Son, they tried to put the God in a duffle
But them boys can't knock the hustle, like Hov' said
We expose fed, nigga, just give me the code red
They say a close mouth don't get fed, well that's a lie
Cuz them faggots who be snitching on niggaz, they sure to die
You don't want to wake up, with your seed in a cradle missing
Sweating bullets hearing wheels peel off from Mercedes engines

[Chorus 2X: Trife Da God]
Aiyo, these blocks ain't big enough for all of us to eat
These corners is mines, so evil bow down or go to sleep
It's like jail, in order to live, you gotta earn your keep
Prepare for the shakedown, new law and order on the street

[Trife Da God]
Yeah I write raps, but I sling crack for a living
Punk, anywhere, I ain't gotta ask for permission
Trife Dies', know the fiends can't miss him
Everyday on the shift, like transmission, making them transitions
From New York to Great Britain, up state to San Quinton
Every corner, every block, from Broad Street to Van Sithlin
The grand picture, haul ass when them vans blitz in
Watch for police, the word on the street is your man's snitching
I'm rider like Pac, ain't no stopping my ambitions
Getting money, twenty four seven, bredren, my hand's itching
Got me looking through the eye of the scope, and real killas move smooth
With a quiet approach, silencers on the tools when they fire the toast
And if you ain't dead or in jail, then why the hell you crying you broke
I tell a bitch, let me slide in your throat
And have her gnawning on my head like she high off of dope, get it? good

[Chorus 2X]

[Outro: Trife Da God]
Uh, uh, uh, uh
Theodore, nigga..

. . .


(feat. Trife Da God)

[Chorus: Trife Da God (sample)]
We love hip hop, and live a life of crime
Felt like I've been robbed, gotta take what's rightfully mine
So I'm staying on my job, yo, as far as the grinds
Gotta put in that work every day and just (put it on the line)
Strong mind still shine, young man in my prime
Had to switch it up on 'em, had to change with the times
Now the flows upgraded, got the labels in line
And sold five, get ya money up bitch (put it on the line)

[Trife Da God]
You about to read the greatest book ever published
The life and times of Trife Diesel, I give my heart to the public
Peep how a young boy was discovered, follow me, y'all
And bare witness as a nigga touch on these subjects
The year was 1980, the summer was hot and hazy
Reagan was president, and Nancy was the first lady
Born to a Mr. and Mrs. Bailey, a healthy lad
Wasn't poor, but, I didn't come from a wealthy pad
Moms and dad still married, they both try'nna provide
Two brothers and two sisters, I'm the youngest out of five
Stapleton's where I reside, the north side of the Island
Where try'nna survive was a challenge, my hood was flooded with violence
And crack was the new epidemic, and by the early 90's
The recall law was passed down by the Senate
The Yankees just won a pennant, and Jordan was in his prime
Now I'm living this life where I'm forced to (put it on the line)

[Chorus]

[Trife Da God]
I'm on a journey, leaving no stone unturned
For your concern brother, I work for all I earn
Whether a crib in the p's, or a five mill mansion
Showing my ass like a stripper on some high heels dancing
Nowadays I'm showing expansion, controlling my team
And fuck a but-but, I'm try'nna get ahold of that phantom
My pops taught me how to hustle and attend to your ventures
Cuz a man is not a man if he ain't got no incentitive
Dealing with money, then everything has a percentage
Whether street or corporate office, try to keep a good image
Note these jewels I had to swallow, them words I still follow
Describe all, now me and this music, we such a good combo
Every 'morning' like Alonzo, I was serving indiction
Getting that money, fam, no matter the weather conditions
So I learned that it's better to listen, play your position
If you can't take the heat, then stay the hell out the kitchen

[Chorus]

. . .


(feat. Trife Da God)

[Chorus: sample]
All my life, it's been one big struggle
Born and raised... in the slums of trouble, I'm all...

[Ghostface Killah]
Yo, I was born and raise in New York City
The home of the Yankees, the Jam Master Jay's and the Biggie's
Ralph Icey's, Jet mags, cops surveillance, it's high tech
Our appearance is we still in the grind, and direct
But on my side of town shit's gorilla, phone booths is broke
Behind the building niggaz on post
What up Doc? What up Lord? I'm chilling
These motherfuckers got my name and my face
Placed up in every building
You see what that do to the children, that ain't right
I've been raised in these projects, damn near, all my life
And these faggots wanna do this to me, I'ma lay low
And blow that cop, son, you watch, no lie, word to my momma, dunn
They don't want the drama, thunn, 'member me in '86?
Knocked out four cops, got knocked on the outer bridge
Bagged me with two clips, a fifth of Bacardi Dark
I spared them, cause all of them left with they body parts
I'm not crazy; I'm lulu, I will Larry Davis these spades
You spill a little blood on the NARC's Fubu
The Culture Pound'll go thru dude, and ricochet off his shoulder
Miss the teeth and hit his Lo Mein noodles
Fuck it..

[Chorus]

[Ghostface Killah]
I'ma tell ya motherfuckers something, my struggle is real
Threw ketchup on my rice, cause there was no meat with the meal
My dog was better off alone, he ate when I ate, if not days later
Two weeks old cold shit, straight out the refrigerator
Ran away a few times, then boom, went to Dee and fried them
Prior to that, burning rulers, we was getting high in the Hill
So many cracks we done crushed up in dollar bills
It's a shame, didn't smoke once plain; don't pass me that
I had escaped that, then dust took over
Hit bags of red devil, bundels leaking, had put the hood in a coma
Hustling backwards and off balance, turkey and cheese hero's
And nutriments, kept a nigga belly full
Fresh cut and fresh kicks, thinking it was cool, now I'm telling you
A grown man still in the struggle, vouch for my brothers too
And sisters, all across the globe, fuck the past
Fix the future, I'm sent here to spread the message, come on

[Chorus]

. . .


(feat. Trife Da God)

A nigga like me, man, I love the game, I love the hustle, man
I be feeling like one of them ball playing niggaz, you know?
A Bird, a Magic, or something, yeah, you know a nigga got dough
A nigga can leave the league, but if I leave.
The fans still gonna love me, man?
I get love out here, I done sold coke on these streets, man
Hash, weed, heroin, as long as niggaz is feeling it
A nigga like me can hustle it, that's my gift in life, eh
You know? Funny man, you a hustling muthafucker, man
(Uh, I heard it was rocking out here, where the dough at, man?)
{You know how what it is}
(These niggaz out here, yeah, they got the move straight up)
{Aiyo, next fiend that come thru, I'm tackling them, I don't give a fuck}
(What the fuck you looking at man?) {I need like five sales in a row, man
Y'all niggaz fall back} (What the hell my niggaz at, man, straight up and down man
We ain't playing out here) {I'm out here, right now, man
Everything is me, when I'm out here, man} (Take a break or get broke)

[Chorus 4X: 50 Cent sample "Places to Go"]
Hustle hard, money stack, sell that dope, sell that crack
Sell that pack, sell that gat, sell that pussy, holla back!

[Trife Da God]
We hustle hard in the city of Gods, with dedicated dealers
Take this shit for a serious job
Thugs with hideous scars, bag the prettiest broads
And teach 'em how to move coke, in they panties and bra's
My pops stayed on the hustle, cuz the family was large
No fancy cars, no shrimp scampi or caviar
Just a cold plate of agony, mixed with a harsh reality
Fuck a donation, we started our own charities
We had to hustle, we ain't caking like Russell
So if you live how we live, you can relate to the struggle
Me and my niggaz running wild like some apes in the jungle
Paper chasing, serving fiends, at the gate when they come through
This one's for all my Newport slingers, dope heads that'll chew off fingers
Just to shoot that thing up, get on ya grind
'Cause while your getting yours, I'm getting mines
If you need some tips on how to hustle, drop me a line

[Chorus 4X w/ ad-libs]

[Trife Da God]
Hustle hard, that's the only way a nigga know how
Been grinding most of my life, and I ain't gon' stop now
Growing up, I remember them days, slinging that beige
Pumping trays on the first of the month, niggaz was paid
I learned the tricks of the trade, with the flip or the save
When you bag up, wear rubber gloves and clean off the blade
I used to watch my older brother carve stones at the table
And my moms home, it was new to my 'view', like Star Jones
In and out of buildings, lamping in halls with eight balls
Way before they had the cameras installed
That was 9-7, when Biggie Smalls gave us the script
The Ten Crack Commandments on how to manage your bricks
Shopping bags, popping tags, with the brand new in shit
No more hand-me-down rags, my appearance was dipped
I'm on my grind like coffee beans, I'm gon' sale
Worldwide I got fiends on line like AOL

[Chorus 4X w/ ad-libs]

. . .


(feat. Trife Da God)

[Trife Da God]
You wouldn't believe (what) what just happened to Steve
He got bagged up town with a brick in his sleeve
Plus an asshole full of dimes, so when he see the judge
You know he gon' get an asshole full of time
Linebacker numbers, no distracting this hunger
And they was watching 'em for damn near, half of the summer
It's a shame how that boy that bagged, right on the Ave
One four-fifth, d's was hopping out yellow cabs
Guns drawned, told 'em get on the floor, gave 'em a run for the money
And in the process he dished the raw
Had the whole precint on him, cops sleeping on him
Them faggot ass rednecks started beating on him
Usually roll with a pitch in his fifth, or heat is on him
Was a risk, but the nigga insist, he keep it on him
It's a fucked up world we live in, for all my niggaz been maxed in, in prison
Going back to the system

[Chorus 2X: Trife Da God]
The moral of the story is there ain't one
This is just a tale, take a look at this picture, I'm try'nna paint one
Go into my mind, and see what you'll find
Events that all took place once upon a time

[Trife Da God]
They say I'm grimey, but I'm cool as shit
I show you how to use a bitch, to move a brick
Half a kilo stashed in the uteris
Don't gotta say a word, she observe when I move my lips
She don't sit when she piss, she 'stand up' like Ludacris
My bitch, she'll shoot a snitch, quick fast in a hurry
And then she'll hop her ass on the Ferry
Push the pedal to the metal, pumping gas in the Chevy
Hit my whole team off, serving ass in the telly
And she ride for a nigga, like Kobe's wife
This is Trife, no comparison to Obie Trice
And when she bark, man, that's only right
Cuz she be starting a flick, starving for dick, on her lonely nights
But Tone told me to play it close, before she leave a player broke
He seen her in Medina with Katrina stealing baby coats
Her pops got money, this shit is worth eighty notes
She nineteen and fiend for 'Ice Cream' like Rae and Ghost
Good girl, or bad girl, nigga, they all the same
See it's not how you fuck 'em, it's how you teach 'em the game
You can shape and mold 'em, but you sure can't control 'em
They have you dealing with six, going through the emotions

[Chorus 2X]

[Outro: Trife Da God]
Yeah, niggaz, know what I mean
Trife Diesel, Starks Enterprise, Emile on the track
Kryme Life, Tommy Whispers, Theodore Unit
T.M.F. in the house, word up

. . .


(feat. Trife Da God & Tommy Whispers)

[Intro: Trife Da God]
Uh-huh, let's go, knowhatimean
Lot of these muthafuckin' rappers
Talking alot of bullshit on these tracks
Youknowhatimean, they dry snitching, throwing indirect
Well this what we gon' 'do, man
We gon' flush all these rats out the system
Knowhatimean, set a few traps
Get they ass up out of here, yeah, yo

[Trife Da God]
For all y'all niggaz with them Nextels, chirpin' and bleepin'
On them walkie talkies frontin', like y'all work for the precint
10-4 niggaz claiming they hustlers, soon as they cuff ya
In interrogation booths, y'all confessing like Usher
Do the crime, do the time, that's the way I was taught
And fuck surrending to jake, nigga, I'd rather get caught
You got these niggaz on camera, frontin' hard with they team
Wavin' they hammers, incriminating theyself on the screen
Roleplaying, imitating some movie they seen
That ain't gangsta, real gangsta niggaz generate CREAM
And now you wonder why the FEDS come knock me, infiltrating the system
Don't be suprised nigga, you let those cops in
Plus the record labels is watching, you think they gonna sign you?
You think they gonna put up that bread and get behind you
Reality check, stupid, let me remind you
All that try'nna push ya way through the door, deceased in 9-2

[Chorus 2X: Trife Da God]
Yah-yo, yah-yo, this is that gangsta shit
Go 'head and roll ya window down and crank that shit
Whether ya red or blue, homey, bang yo click
My New York niggaz get money, and slam those bricks

[Trife Da God]
In the hood, I'm a Legend like John, I've never been harmed
On the block shooting dice, holding bread in my palm
Gatten Island niggaz, yeah we got a fetish for arms
Berettas tucked in our leathers, strapped with terrorist bombs
Shorties, running around with more Gunz than Corey
Getting high off weed smoke, blowing your funds on forties
You'll be amazed how these rappers try to run with stories
This ain't a novel, muthafucka, this is guts and glory
Pain and struggle, the game will crush you, it's a everyday hustle
You want to eat, you better strain your muscles
Hopeless martyrs, afraid when approached by mobsters
With them grams, call me Sam the way I'm "coachin'" "carters"
With starters, listen homey we can never be partners
Don't get it twisted, handle business with my hands and revolvers
The grown man, that'll touch up your wig, like beauty parlors
Pop niggaz, like, how we pop bottles, you do the honors, nigga

[Chorus 2X]

[Tommy Whispers]
Spot you twenty points, and you still can't win
You can't compare Grey Go' to gin, you too thin
Ya'll niggaz is hubcaps fuckin' with big rims
If the shoe fit, then your foot in my timb
Masked up, hoodies and gems, I couldn't defend
Your title small, a deuce-deuce next to a rifle
The hackle'll snipe you, disconnect and dis-mic you
Disrespect your rivals, have you dancing like Michael
Moonwalker, uh-huh, platoon bark, goons in the dark
Only lights from the spark, boom-boom in the parks
Vocals in fumes from my darts, lead the roofs on the part
Fuck up your happy home, daddy's back with a chrome
Snatchin' ya throne, you mimicking, you actually cloned
Finish him, I'm crackin' ya bones, diminishing
Real terror, purple men, backed off pistoling
Like them papies uptown, them hammers is whistling

[Chorus 2X]

[Outro: Trife Da God]
Uh, yeah, 718, criminal grind, Theodore
Trife Da God, yo Slay, what up, my nigga?
Tommy Whispers, Kryme Life, youknowhatimeansaying
Money Come First, T.M.F. we getting money over here
Gatten Island niggaz, knowhatimean
Where the guns go off

. . .


(feat. Trife Da God)

Don't play with me, cause you're playing with fire!
(Whooo, smoking, smoking, smoking them Marley Marl's
Smile, smoking, them Marley Marl's now be smoking
Uh huh uh huh, smoking, light them Marley up nigga, you
Smoking) {yeah, yo}

[Trife Da God]
When you motherfuckin' ducks gonna learn, that you playin' with fire
Nigga, everything I touch, I burn
When I spark and that fire heat up, you better run
To the nearest telephone and call the fire chief up
Cuz I'm hazard, causin' disorder on your recorder
So run along with your little buckets of water
There's not a nigga that can doubt my game or doust my flame
I'm know to cause a panic when you shout my name
Fire, you damn right, nigga, I bang pipes
It's not a fucking room in this building I can't light
I'm the definition when you mix heat with friction
When I walk through I set off all sprinkler systems
I'm that kid with the firey flow, the firey glow
Adjust the mic levels or the wires will blow
New York's bravest, meet the man who inspired the pro's
Throw on your fireproof bombers and admire the show, let's go

[Chorus: Ghostface Killah & Trife Da God]
Gotta strike while the iron is hot, fighting
Fire with fire, you'll die on the spot, (nigga)
Gotta strike while the iron is hot, fighting
Fire with fire, you'll die on the spot, (uh)
Gotta strike while the iron is hot, fighting
Fire with fire, you'll die on the spot, (yeah)
Gotta strike while the iron is hot, fighting
Fire with fire, you'll die on the spot, (let's go)

[Ghostface Killah]
Peep the barcode, leave the booth, wrapped it in charcoal
Sippin' on firewater, plus I keep a cigar rolled
The human torch, special effects, cannons is shootin' off
Leave body bags full of ashes, we ain't no move to cost
Spit flammable bars, I got a whooping cough
Scarlet red, six forty five, with the dual exhaust
My barrel blow like dodgers, pop one in your rider
And cause a meltdown at One Police Plaza
I'm the opposite of aqua, hotter than a plate of pasta
I'm the reason LaMar Odom was traded off the roster
The hot stepper, crushing ya niggaz like hot pepper
The forty cal' squeeze a nigga, my heaters apply pressure
In the kitchen with the gun steaming, six hundred degrees
Feeling like you in the desert with the sun beaming
You can't block me with the sun screening
Ultra violet rays, shorten his days, we left his blood streaming

[Chorus 2X]

. . .


(feat. Trife Da God, Kryme Life & Tommy Whispers)


[Chorus 1.5X: Trife Da God]
This world is full of shockers, and project soap operas
Episodes of drama, never ending sagas

[Trife Da God]
You know Pudgie, who rock the old rugby, kinda chubby
Timbs always muddy, and his wiz is kinda ugly
Him and his man Dudley got killed in an accident
Late last night, when they was driving down Castleton
The whip was badly crashed, come on, you do the math
They probably smoked a bag, no seatbelts, they flew through the dash
The forecast was foggy, light drizzle, sky; cloudy
Lost control at the wheel, a front pole wrapped they Audi
It was televised, at the scene live, on Channel Seven
Newsflash story, this just in, around eleven
Yellow tape scenery, barricaded the block
Patrol cars and EMS, all invaded the spot
It was tragic, they swerved out of control to a wood traffic
Hopped the curb, tired flatted, glass shattered
Witnesses said they heard a big bang and loud screetches
And Tamika said police found drugs in Pudgie speaker
Plus son had an open case, for dope and base
Jake rushed his moms lab, he got bagged in Ocean Lake

[Chorus: Tommy Whispers]

[Chorus: Trife Da God]

[Kryme Life]
Oh lord, two shots just went off on Broad
I ran out the building, seen my man on the floor
Children running frantic, with fear, all I saw
Was a four door Explorer, made a uey, then pulled off
Miss Gloria screaming, nobody seen him by the store
Beanie and Jamal, freaking on the lawn
Told me, if they get you, call Ruck with the rental
My mental went rushing, who the fuck was buzzing
Was it them niggaz that we stuck for them hundreds
Or did that bitch that we ran a train on, tell her husband
Moving fast, hoping that my man don't past
Heart pumping, eyes closing, yo, he might not last
EMS please hurry, nervous and worried
He's only 19, he's too young to be buried
Got a life ahead of him, Georgia Tech just accepted him
Point guard, but at this point, God
It was heaven and Allah opening gates for the star
It was hard, I couldn't believe, he stopped breathing
Stopped from achieving his dream, now he leaving
Thugs grieve, aiyo, he never slinged a thing
And died over drug beef, it's a ghetto soap opera
Living on these bugged streets, streets, streets

[Chorus: Tommy Whispers]

[Chorus: Trife Da God]

[Tommy Whispers]
Now Barbara need to stop
Always at the kitchen table, lighting up the rocks
While her daughter sit and watch
Cuz her bathroom out of order, gotta knock on Uncle Kevin's door
But it's really scary, cuz he live way on the seventh floor
And she was out on 2, the older brother still in school
But she had to stay home cuz of the flu
Only six, but she more advanced than other little kids
Always wondering, what's going on, outside the crib
So she stepped into the hall, pressed the elevator button
Bumped into this kid, making a sale, it wasn't nothing
So cool, little and frail, but she knew what he was pumping
At the store, he would walk to mommy, and hand her something
And she always gave her money, few minutes after they got back home
She acting funny, attitude getting ugly
So she took the ride up, five floors, knocked on the door quick
Didn't even speak, she just headed for the toilet
After she was done, he told her go to the store, the milk spoiled
Plus we needed some bread and some tin foil
Little girl heart was loyal, so she ran downstairs
Knocked on the door, to get Barbara, but she could not hear
Now she at the corner with nobody to cross her, red light changing
And up come a speeding Explorer..

[Interlude: female]
This is Juwana Brookman, reporting for WTMI
Broadcasting live from Staten Island
What started out as an ordinary day
Ended in a catastrophic three part tragedy
Police officials released information of a brutal car accident
That lead to the death of two men in the Stapleton area
Soon after, a minor was gunned down in front of his aparment building
To add to the travesty, a young girl was a victim of a tragic hit and run
Details of her condition, are still to be
The warrants have issued a 50 thousand dollar arrest
For any information leading to the arrest and conviction of the suspect
If you have any information, we ask that you contact them at
1-800-BE-A-SNITCH, this is Juwana Brookman
Signing off for WTMI News

[Chorus: Tommy Whispers]

. . .


(feat. Trife Da God)

[Intro: sample]
War in the east, war in the west
War up north, war down south

[Trife Da God]
Uh, welcome to Jam-rock
Where niggaz get popped, buried in sandlots
New York niggaz, triple they money hitting the grand spot
West Coast bang for they colors and they demand blocks
Stuffed in niggaz barbeque grillings, sizzling hamhocks
Can't forget my mid west niggaz out in the Chi
St. Louis and Tennessee, where them killas is sure to ride
Shout out to my Ohio players, clocking that paper
To all them fly pimps in Detroit, rocking them gators
Riding around, with the top down, heat in the lap
Stay balling, with the plush leather seats in the back
Down in Houston, sidding sideways, chucking the deuce
Popping them bottles, getting blasted over cups of that juice
Dizzy stukes, niggaz blowin' off Bobby, like Whitney Houst'
Grey goose with a touch of grapefruit, indeed, it get me loose
We need to call a truce, for all my fallen troops
Stop the warring, let's do more recording
Sit back and count this loot

[Chorus: Trife Da God (sample)]
(War in the east) To all them dealers in the tri-state
(War in the west) For all them niggaz out west, raising the crime rate
(War up north) To all them killas up north, locked in the bing
(war down south) For everybody down south doing they thing, come on
(War in the east) To all my greasy east niggaz getting that clock right
(War in the west) To all my jackets catching them fools at the stop lights
(War up north) To all the heavy bidders repping in jail
(War down south) To them votes, shouting the dirty south, electing that meal

[Trife Da God]
You can find me in the 'west', like Kanye, blowing on bombai
With the killas on Crenshaw, serving up entrees
Or lounging with the homies from Northstar, popping out of sportscars
Niggaz wilding out in the sports bar
No matter where I go, I'm still repping New York, pa
You know we get it cracking when we up in the courtyard
Sipping on forties of Ale, pouring liquor out
For all the O.G.'s and shorties in jail
And when I'm out in the Carolinas, blessing that marijuana
Down in New Orleans, my niggaz wrestling anacondas
Clapping them tools in Baton Rouge, provoking drama
Getting it crunk in Atlanta, searching for baby mommas
Philly and D.C., V.A. to B-More in a G4
I-95, making them detours
South Beach, Memorial weekend hitting the sea shore
And every other city we go, I'm promoting T-Dore

[Chorus 2X]

. . .


(feat. Trife Da God & Shawn Wiggs)

[Shawn Wiggs]
Aiyo, the block can't knock me, cause my style's too cocky
And my team be off the chain
Aiyo, it's my turn, Wiggs, top of the food chain
I've been starving, waiting for this money train
Now I gorilla, monkey jump and spaz on beats
Slang doctrine, throw some new words in the streets
Roll sheets to the icky, chocolate Wonka
I'm like the ice cream man, I make the block go bonkers

[Ghostface Killah]
Please, we puff little Christmas trees
I keep a, chick on her knees, some custom dungarees
Two-tone hungry's and a whole lotta cheese
Coconut waffles, pa, I blow like the breeze

[Shawn Wiggs]
And the block can't knock me, cause my style's too cocky
And my team be off the chain

[Ghostface Killah]
It's Theodore, Starks Enter', make it hot in the winter
And my gun gonna spark the flames, I told you to

[Chorus 2X: Shawn Wiggs (Ghostface Killah)]
Duck out the way (better move nigga)
Before you clap or get sprayed (brrrrr-aow)

[Ghostface Killah]
Ok, I see you wanna take it down to the grit
Like I've been through the struggle, pa, and can't handle the shit
I'm a gorilla, I beast everything in the eye
Rock an eightball jacket in the middle of july

[Shawn Wiggs]
Verbal slaughter, grey goose and vitamin waters
Slumped in the gym, throwing the dumbells all out of order
Knockin' scuffs on my Reeboks... (say what)
I got that old drunken style, that spit time in detox
A to Z blocks I see Oz for the weed spot
Anthony Acid for the party on the roof top
Custom made jewels, I got my own spot
Like my chain all chunky, and my ladies so lovely
V.I.P. with a bottle of Goose
It's Wiganomics, no beginner, make it hot in the winter
And my gun gonna speak the truth, I told ya to

[Chorus 2X]

[Shawn Wiggs]
Aiyo, the block can't knock me, cause they love when I'm cocky
Rock a mink with some Phat Farm jeans

[Ghostface Killah]
A big dooky ass charm, hot broad on an arm
Yo Wiggs show 'em how to serve them fiends

[Shawn Wiggs]
I hit the block like a ton of bricks
I know they look like twenties
But only give me five harder knicks
Dirty pillow, we bulletproof cars are armadillo
Got the whole tri-state weeping like willow
Get that money, I need a Hugh Hefner account

[Ghostface Killah]
And if the bunnies don't come with the crib, we gon' bounce
To the hotel (motel) yacht by the bay

[Shawn Wiggs]
I got the big bottle of Mandarin goose, who got the OJ?

. . .


(feat. Trife Da God)

[Intro: singer]
Them drugs is not mine, them drugs is not mine

[Chorus: Trife Da God (singer)]
It wouldn't be a problem, if I did the crime
I would be a man about it, and just serve my time, but
(Them drugs is not mine, them drugs is not mine)
I hear all these muthafuckas out here on the grind
The cops picked me for the hurt, and chose me out of the line, I said
(Them drugs is not mine, them drugs is not mine)

[Trife Da God]
Officer of the law, why you touching me for?
Checking the crack of my ass, and looking under my balls
Strip searching, touching my person, dropping my drawers
And to top it all off, I ain't got nothing at all
I'm a hard working tax payer, for that nature
Do forty hours a week, slaving for that paper
I'm try'nna make an honest living, it's not much
And you hide behind ya gun and badge, thinking you tough
Look at him starting, the boys in the blue, peep the sergeant
Saying "Let's take him anyway, run his name for warrants"
I'm a U.S. citizen, stop treating me like a foreign
My whip's legit, get off my dick, insurance plus registration
We under surveillance, feds investigating
Assuming I'm wrong doing with false accusations
They discriminating cuz off my races
Central bookings, they was scared to look me dead in my face
Now you telling me, I'm being charged with a felony
Possesion with intent to sale, three days I spent jail
Them drugs ain't mine, your honor, and I ain't copping out of shit
Not even one bag of marijuana

[Chorus]

[Trife Da God]
Now I'm sitting up in court, contemplating my thoughts
In a cell, with thirty inmates blowing Newports
And I'm awaiting to be arraigned, these niggaz doing the same
Nodded off in a corner, the bailiff calling my name
In front of judge, looking filthy
Asking my lawyer how I plead, I plead not guilty
He set bail, momma love on the edge of her seat, biting her nails
Stressed out, the look on her face was mighty pale
Her son's going to jail, a black innocent male
No justice, but these kids say justice prevails
Stuck between a rock and a hard place, the God's face
Truly explains the pain and the heartaches
It's too much to partake, but I'm still fighting
Still got my hand up, even though it seem frighting
It's a fucked up system, niggaz, please listen
The old tradition plants in this country, it needs fixing

[Chorus]

[Hook 2X: singer]
Mr. Officer, please understand
Them drugs ain't mine, you got the wrong man
So quick to put those cuffs on my hands
Take my freedom, disrupting my plans

. . .


(feat. Trife Da God)

[Intro: Ghostface Killah]
Kinda dusty.....

[Ghostface Killah]
Yo, with this game come alotta hate, but there's alotta snakes
Niggaz see the size of my dish, and wanna pick a plate
Thinkin' I'ma fold under pressure, y'all wanna see me break
Had these niggaz skating on ice, doing a figure eight
Twelve getting strong in the game, y'all can't touch me
I must be, made out of steel, y'all can't crush me
Watch how I paint this picture, into a mixture
With symbolic words, when they merge they form a scripture
Tone be that nigga, I belong in the ficture
Very necessary that my robes is furry
Picture me, in the King's chair blowin' on bark
Before queens holding toothbrushes, scrubbin' my Clarks
Feedin' me grapes, give me style shakes, Frosted Flakes
Flood the plate, twenty four karats that intake
I'm all over the globe, like water in moat
Cocaine cookouts over portable stoves

[Chorus: Ghostface Killah]
Watch how we milk 'em this year
Y'all niggaz straight soft, like silk in this here
My niggaz came off, ran hard for 10 years
But this time around, we got a new sound for deaf ears
Things is different, now time's is changing
So it's a new direction that my rhymes is aimed in
It's more than entertainment, it's hip hop
The way that we walk, the way that we talk
It's our language

[Trife Da God]
Aiyo, now who you know is more liver than Trife?
The piledriver improviser go to work on your body like exercisers
My opening lines'll open your mind
Glock popper, clock stopper, leave you frozen in time
Plus you never seen me rolling with shines, I'm barely seen
Got bitches in all flavors, I call 'em my Dairy Queens
Gettin' CREAM, that's a daily routine, y'all niggaz know me
I'm the one and only, that's word to Chef and Pretty Toney
Make my debut on Bulletproof Wallets, that's when I come through
Stay true, got nothing for free, I had to pay dues
You feelin' like a frog then jump, you in the swamp with gators
Nigga, we eat you tadpoles for lunch
It's not a hunch, it's a sure fact
Drunk nigga fall back, I'm tellin' you once
Don't get your fronts and your jaw cracked
Theodore, we the new villains in here
Starks Enterprise, we seeing 20 million this year

. . .


(feat. Trife Da God & Theodore Unit)

[Wigs]
Yeah, son, it's the Einstein Theodore theory, street philosphy
Step foot on our block, there's no way possibly
Guns too big for you, to ever try stoppin' me
Talk out your mouth, you better speak properly

[Trife Da God]
Aiyo, first of all, you ain't worth to brawl
And my fifth, call it the gift, when I curse you all
See I'm a soldier, look at my ranks
On the block, we got that water bubblin' like we cookin' up franks
This is Trife Diesel, get familiar with the name
I'm here, to stay for a while, so steel it in your brain
My guerrillas'll bang, we are the Planet of the Apes
Clips as long as bananas, throw them hammers in your face

[Solomon Childs]
From the land of the pushers, hustlers and handlers
With military, heavyweight standers
Cameras on the cannons, move amongst hoes and gamblers
Empties on my project balconies
My guns vow for me, my bitch count for me
I'm royalty, motherfucker gon' bow to me
20-04, vampires that'll rip off your neck
And eat your garlic, murder, from New York to Charlotte
It'll beat a nigga down like Sonny Carlton, when he ran through a gauntlet

[Ghostface Killah]
Yo, my plate never pork, I sink deep into minds where you can't talk
Cough it up, bitch, I shine like Chinaware
Shine like the box in the live ball player amped
Fuck Mike Jordan, it's P-Tone in the air
Pullin' over NARCs with mad coke stashed in the spare
Guns and all that, the NARCs said, why you dipped in all black
Said, I'm comin' from a funeral, y'all boys can fall back

[Wigs]
It's Wiganomics, I drop like a brick in the third
And y'all fruit cake niggaz think my style's absurd
Only the birds I blow back, Staten Island super gat
Talk is pork, I get that money then stupid stack
Theodore, we state of the art, you wanna keep that
Chain around your neck, you better play your part
Cuz ain't a damn thing sweet, like the Wonka Factory
This the Enterprise/Theodore shit, you no match for me

. . .


(feat. Trife Da God, Solomon Childs & Sun God)

[Intro: Ghostface Killah (Trife Da God)]
Where the DJ's at? (Yeah) that's right
What's the deal y'all? (Theodore, nigga)
Theodore's in the building, Staten Island stand up
(That's right, Gatten Island) Word up
(I'm like Ray Charles, nigga
Pay me my motherfuckin' bread in singles)
That's what I'm try'nna tell ya, it's real
(Heard me) Big Tone Starks in the building, now, come on

[Chorus 2X: Trife Da God (Solomon Childs)]
(Man up) Somebody gon' get laid down
(Man up) Whether music or four pounds
(Man up) Ain't no need to know me well
We can get the drama popping, homey, I won't tell

[Trife Da God]
This is my year, eating like a baby in a high chair
Fly gear, versace eye wear, we the pioneers
I fuck bitches sipping on dry beer
Only rock Timbs and Air Forces, yo, oc', give me like 5 years
Fresh out the box with it, Chicago Sox fitted
Uh, if the product is banging, first hit the block with it
Set the drug charges and my criminal formula
O-5 black suburban straight from General Motors
Walk through give the niggaz the shoulder
Just fucked this bitch on the sofa
Twisted the chocha, me'll flip on the culture
Had the bird niggaz shittin' in peels, clippin' your tail
Let the four-five kiss ya, as I'm liftin' your bail
Put a hundred wolves on you, have them pick up the trail
While I'm in the honeycomb, weighing bricks on the scale
Sippin' old M.A., me and my protege's, cause even on the coldest day
Your boy stil shine, giving off solar rays

[Chorus 2X]

[Ghostface Killah]
What you know about stepping out heavy, Just' jewels, no crew hurry
My inside pants leg, I'm packing like two machetes
One ratchet, two gloves and a mask
Jumping out of green rover, niggaz ballin' me down
That's when I reached over, figured they ain't go no matters
Young boys round here, they don't know my status
And niggaz looking for a full time jack move
But they don't know, that these blades here, crack dudes
Give it to 'em quick, something like fast food
Take a nigga gun, like 'you gonna blast who?'
Cinderella girl frontin' in them glass shoes
Homo thug bitch ass nigga, I'll smash you
You mad, cause you rockin' the shit bag
Smellin' like piss, when it popped your click ran
You fucking with powerful niggaz, devour your business
It ain't gravy, you pussy niggaz, you the Avon lady, fuck you

[Chorus 2X]

[Sun God]
Niggaz better stay in they place
Cuz when I stash the plastic mask on, leave a hole in your face
Who this young dude holding the weight
Got every drug from dope to bud, even small package your face
Niggaz bam, look God in the face, can't look in my eyes
I tell you why, cause this thing on my waist
Bread and butter, got it all for sale, and I'm duckin' the cops
On every block, I ain't going to jail
I ain't the type that'll rot in the cell
Never talk or fist fight, with drama, I'll be popping these shells
Hit your chest and your flesh get, hotter than hell
Them hollow tips make it hard to inhale, you not worthy
Vest and a white tees, and throwback jerseys
Julius Irvings, black suburban
Twisted off one-five-one, my whips swerving
Try'nna see that chips, full clips, no splurging

[Chorus 2X]

[Outro: Ghostface Killah]
That's right, yeah, another Theodore production
Yeah, Anthony Acid on the beats, y'all
Ones and twos y'all, yeah, that's right
Big Ghost in the building, Staten Island in the mother-f'ing building
Nigga, yeah, man up, bitch...

. . .


(feat. Trife Da God & Tommy Whispers)

[Intro: Trife Da Good]
Mmm-hmm... yo we going in, nigga

[Chorus 2X: Trife Da God]
It's game time, gear the lacing of your kicks
When I bang mine, ain't no escaping out this bitch
And your chain's mine, kidnap the bracelet off your wrist
Heard it through the grapevine, that you was hating on the click

[Trife Da God]
I'm not Chris Tuck', but I'll tuck them ratchets
When I was young, I used to beat off, and fuck the mattress
And I promise you, step out of line, see what that llama do
Demolish you, rip through your chest, hit your abdominal
My hammer hold twelve like a dozen of eggs
And your man'll get bodied over something he said
I'm not a blood, but I rock nothing but red
He got his button on, I heard son fuck with the feds
Why niggaz wanna fuck with my bread, like I ain't starving
When I reign, I leave niggaz in Payne, but I ain't Martin
If I ain't gone, I'm gonna move the weight by the carton
On the plate carving, find me out of sight like a martian
And I'm bobbing and weaving, dodging the precint
Hit I-95, blowing cigars on the Decon
Even when I'm fucked up, you know the God'll be eating
It's all good, my hood is like the Garden of Eden

[Chorus 2X]

[Tommy Whispers]
We make hits, classical shit, spit acid
Turn bodies into ashes, T.M.F., we the masters
Father to your style, so you can't be called a bastard
Held fast in close casket, on the verge of collapsion
Demolition derby, car crashing, heart smashed in
Brutaly, I beast on beats, Broadstreet, Staten
Usually I creep black heat, in dusty clothes
Then drift from rusty 'fro's
Communicate; Sprint to Sprint, somebody knows
Phonetap, info'll get leaked like cognac
Seepin' through plastic cups, no caps on the bottle
Sold crack cuz I got to, feed my seed is my motto
Believe I'm leave the hood, I hit the lotto
But wherever I go, you know the hood gon' follow
With them hollows and a tech, spray Windex
Glassed on niggaz get chin check
Theodore Unit, nigga, we out for them ten checks

[Chorus 2X]

[Trife Da God]
I'm in the kitchen with them pots and pans
And when them guns start to fire
Ain't no telling where them shots gon' land
Niggaz smile up in your face, but they not your man
So it's obvious they not gon' stand
I'm on the block, every day, moving yay', try'nna knock off grams
If a nigga steal from me, I'm gonna chop off hands, so don't
Get it confused, niggaz, give up them tools
Cuz when we walk through the spot, y'all get up and move
I'm a nigga that stay bending the rules
Take a real good luck at a crook, and remember this dude
Now keep that talk to a minimum, cuz niggaz be quick to peel off
When that shit jump off like Lil' Kim and 'em
Pumped off adrenaline, got his man drillin' him
Feelin' him, gasin' him with all types of words
I'm like the rain forest, I got all types of birds
But they don't get the same treatment, that my wife deserve

[Chorus 2X]

[Outro: Tommy Whispers (Trife Da God]
Yeah, nigga, Tommy Whispers, Trife Diesel
Uh huh, flip a mill, Kryme Life (Theodore, nigga)
Word up, T.M.F., kid, smashin' all microphones
(Stapleton) 10304 niggaz

. . .


(feat. Trife Da God & Raekwon)

[singer]
Tony for mayor.. (x4)

[Ghostface Killah]
Catch me in a crisp blue six, deep dish
Jaws is Cris', valor stopped at the wrist
Watches involved, talk to me Trick Daddy
I liked the way you tilt ya hat up in that Caddy
Son, can't believe you the most slept on
Took a break since the Cuban, niggas lookin' like you just repped wrong
You done slipped down a bid, got caught with the hammer
Steal banners, medical examiners, clocked live hammers
For real, you a live nigga, rock the five in ya slippers
like them other five guys in ya picture
Come on, watch, I'm the star of the show, so blow dem
Mothafucka, you ain't blew in three years
Son of a bitch, that's why I rock the big shit
Don't forget who you is, nigga, you my little shit
I will crush you to pieces, stop ya heart from tickin'
And you mad cuz you a older clock, couple rocks missin'
And my writin', the band, you can say it's ice flight-nin'
You don't like him, do you? You wanna fight him
In fact, I should've put you back, relaxed on the stones
And copped ya two-thousand leather shit, snow cones
A bowl of milk almost killed you, ah, you almost drowned in pops
I brought another box, I'ma keep it real with you
And I'ma murder you if ya bitch-ass get on my nerves again

[Raekwon (Ghostface Killah)]
Yo, Ghost, you'se a funny nigga
Turn on the radio, all you hear is X and Jigga
Haha, you vexed, nigga?
No airplay (bet my gat spray) Yeah, that's hearsay
You spray hairspray and up North, nigga, you ain't gettin' jailplay
(How you know?) Yo, it's obvious, Clan's day

[Ghostface Killah]
Hold on, let me park my shit, let me find out this nigga barkin' and shit
I'm a Don of this shit, and you know that shit I wrote with Golden Arms is a hit
My Wallos show off, go off like an alarm in the six
Drank the yellow and I'm still poppin'
My movie life in the hood is like an ill doctrine
Beat trial with illegal edge, fuck Cochrane
And if it's on I might blow you if I'm boxed in.. {*echoes*}

[Break: Raekwon (Ghostface Killah)]
Yo, yo, yo, what you doin', man?
Yo, man, chill out, man
(Don't even worry)
I'm just fuckin' with you, man
Why you.. (OK) Come on, son
We can't.. don't regard us like that, son
Come on (I'll destroy you)
Come on, man (You pop too much shit)
Come on, man, I'm just tellin' you time
(I ain't a-like that, you know who brought you)
Nigga, I'm just fuckin' with you
(Bye!)

[singer]
Tony for mayor.. {*repeats to fade*}

[Outro: Ghostface Killah (Raekwon)]
Yo, let me tell y'all mothafuckas somethin'
(Shoot one of those niggas, Lord)
We could battle for belts, ice (Type shit)
Whatever the fuck you want to do
Let me tell y'all somethin'
This the Theodore Unit, mothafucka
We takin' the bait of this shit
That's word to my momma, man
(Staten Island, nigga, what, nigga?)
Coke, spoon throwers (Get ya money right)
(Gotta know how real do this)
Slew-footed mothafuckas, I pop all y'all niggas
Y'all niggas is fucked, straight up
We back in here now, mothafuckas
It's the fuckin' Unit, you heard
That's the Theodore Unit
Y'all mothafuckas better recognize
Aight? That's my word
(Yeah, nigga, yeah)

. . .


(feat. Trife Da God & Kool G. Rap)

[Intro: Ghostface Killah]
Yea, yea
It's like rap pa', huh? What?
Y'all bitch-ass niggaz, what? What?
Leave a mark on your face, duke
Word, uh-huh, you fake fucks
Eh-yo, eh-yo, eh-yo..

[Ghostface Killah]
I bathe in a tub of guns, dry off with the clips
Now I'm automatic Jack, that's what I've become
Gangsta lean leanin, peach cobbler pockets fit the graham cracker
Outfit you still Dream of Jeanie in
Kings, stay 'greein, nightly prince Of Egypt
Plenty of days I read up, skiied up, whips all beat up
7:30, the sky is fallin, the most of this dyed with dirty urines
It's the dark-skinned Kris Kringle
Crisp bangle material, boggle minds how I popped up in your cereal
Rocks the eagle beat with the rocks pushed in
Pediatric wildin, grippin the floors like cushion
Samuel Jackson, Action Jackson, Mike Jackson, Staten
Dusthead niggaz that'll have you laugh, you call
Quicker, and we brawl in big arenas, G&C
Catch me in the spot with a guillotine

[Chorus 2X: Ghostface Killah]
In the back of the church, my book be the Book of Life
Donated nothin, hit the preacher wife
This go to all real niggaz that be shootin dice
Stashin ya cracks and maggots stick to me in life

[Kool G. Rap]
Eh-yo we pot of soil, shot our nines of chrome
Just watch how many minds get blown
When I cock mines behind your dome
They gon' find your bones
With your top popped behind your home
Havin a stumb' runnin to find ya phone
B.G.F. and when we the kind to roam
Roll through ya hood and we shine the stones
Blind every dime in the zone
Shit on every line in the poem
And drop a jewel like a diamond in Rol'
B.G.F. war ones, let the fours dump in the forefront with your horse ones
Your body found inside of a Ford trunk, smellin like four skunks
Blast up and cut into four chunks
Shot down and not found for four months
Who playin outfield without a chest shield?
Wanna move? Choose ya weapon of steel
Nigga we 'bout reppin for real
Only take a second to peel
Should've known there was a Tec in the deal, nigga

. . .


[Ghostface Killah]
Good Morning, Good morning
Time to get up

Look at the sun so pretty today
it's so bright, it's so smashing
Lasting, helps out the grass and
Smile when it's morning time
Last night I wrote 3 rhymes, I woke up to see the sun shine
If, God is my witness
In scriptures and pictures
The Sun kiss scrumptious son, it's nutricious
It makes me wanna climb
Take a bite out of shine
This little light of mine
Yo, the son could never be pussy, he always come out
He'll sit right there, even if you pull your gun out
He can never run out, when the lights go out
It's Japan's turn now, the earth has spun around
I see Yellow and Green, it's a beautiful thing
The sky's blue, 'cos the sun hit the water like "BING"
A reflection (uh-huh) and that's all it is (word)
You can't stare at him long, cos your face'll do like this

[CHORUS - Ghostface & Slick Rick]
Look who's shining again
(Oh My My MY)
We've Been Rhyming again
(Oh My My My)
Ice be blinding the men
(Oh My My My)
We come through time and time again
(Oh My My My)

[Raekwon]
Check out my nephew
He jumped up in the window just to see you
Look what he drew
A car, house, always wants to be with you
He's just as Jolly, He always begging me to let him see you
I'm like "probably if you clean up, and read a little"
You make people eyes glow
You got the weather channel bugging and you stubborn when it snow
You my mentor, Mothers name their Kids after you
New slang, nothing personal, we knowin what you been through
(Sun) You roll like, one in a million yo
(Sun Sun) You always find like, one in a building yo
We those babies from day one
All I had was you on my birthday baby- think you owe me one
The way the world look when you around
Prisoners get out, look up, run at you and then kiss the ground
You my favourite, I wish we had three more of you
I adore you, plus I even go to the store for you

[Chorus]
Look who's shining again
(Oh My My MY)
We've Been Rhyming again
(Oh My My My)
Ice be blinding the men
(Oh My My My)
We come through time and time again
(Oh My My My)

[Slick Rick]
I would die for a sun , can being richer and cruel
Reachin a full 98, and got the kids in the pool
Isn't it cool how it spreads joy, hons lay in it
And it's hard to go back to work, when your lunch breaks finished
? before, so it's a fact I support
Feeling the warm sun rays, upon your back as you walk
The heat-driven, A theory I plung to deep living is
Souls have to go through the sun to reach Heaven
And, sensing retreat, our souls badden the scene
Madame believe, since dinosaurs, and Adam and Eve
That Sun's hovered, to the extermination of us
It's a peephole, which leads to the firmament above us

[RZA]
Who can take a raindrop
And turn it to 3?
And drawn up 6 miles, over tropical isles
and bring it to the sea

[Chorus]
Look who's shining again
(Oh My My MY)
We've Been Rhyming again
(Oh My My My)
Ice be blinding the men
(Oh My My My)
We come through time and time again
(Oh My My My)

. . .


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