Meth, Ghost & Rae Album

[Intro: 'Scarface' sample (Raekwon) {Ghostface Killah}]
What you think I'm a fucking worm like you?
I told you, man, I told you, don't fuck with me
I told you, no fucking kids, no, but you wouldn't listen
Well, you stupid fuck, look at you now {Ya'll already know!}
(For real, ya'll, back behind the wall again) {yeah, you know what it is}
(You know what it do, '09 style this time) {It's time to go in now, ya'll}
(For real, making CREAM again, nigga... BLAOW!) {you already know, it's crunch time}

[Raekwon]
First of all, black park it, guns, we spark it
Hit you in the back of your dome, from far, kid
Dice kickers, gun clickers, run up in the bank for ones, quick
The drug dealer niggas, we flip 'em
Polo rugbies, flags on my hats, you love these
Knockout artists are one-piece
Fly in a foreign, all my money ties is tied-up
I'd rather sell coke, no bargain
Tough like a Hummer, fly like a Maybach
Spot runner, clap you in a gun shop, one up
Fuck about police, we Park Hillians with gold geese
And everyday's a Sunday Easter
Cousins in Gaza, the new improved Shottas
Stretched out, mink on the floor, you hassa
We run through with turbans, diamonded up chain with boots on
Mori umbrellas in Tucson
Rhyming is a color, the lifestyle is live, my fly brothers
Something go wrong, we slug something

[Interlude: Raekwon (Ghostface Killah)]
Chill my nigga, chill (I got this, I got this)
Make sure you handle that beat, you know what time it is
Body that beat, man, come on (Yeah)

[Ghostface Killah]
You can catch me anywhere, frost bitten chain
Bad dame, a thousand grams in Delaware
The smokeshop's is owls, laid back, hanging niggas to death
Word, you can call us coat racks
With 'giants' all around me like, Eli Manning
The bitch is on the block like, he died scrambling
Cuz L frames is crack, popped out, nina one of his eyes
Can't come back home, they locked out
All he did was re-up, hustle for kick money
Kept Beez all around him, thinking he shit honey
Bow, I'm into bobsleds, wasting large bread
Gucci helmet is blue, trim in his dark red
The rap TJ Swan, it's me Ason
If he don't spin my shit, break the DJ arm
And glide off like an escapade, renegade on ice
Lemonade Clark, the haze is nice
The Goldielocks, rocks sapphire, chain is right
Bitch niggas, ya'll watch what ya'll say in ya mics, suckas

[Interlude: Ghostface Killah]
Aiyo, Rae, aiyo, Rae, check it out, yo
Let me go in there one more time and air these niggas out
For old times sake, you know how we do, my nig'
Old times sake, just for me, man, one more time, I'm begging you
Let me just go in, and just fly on these niggas heads, man
It's what I'm talking about

[Ghostface Killah]
It's like a body in a project hallway, who did it?
Who's the next nigga that sucked the snit-ich
That's my word, it could never be me
You see the deer head on the living room wall, like his neck fell off
That can be all sculptured and glazed with gloss
Call the shots that Bill Belichick would call
Snake niggas slither all in the glass house, racial slurs
When it's time to go to war, they cash out
Throw 'em in the rear-naked choke, they tap out
Niggas try to surround the kid, I backed out
And threw two rocks at 'em, watching the ho drop
I'm from a place where we locking the low glocks
Yellowtape, the bodies, jiggy and road blocks
Got the towels up in the air, it's so hot
Talking bout Staten Island, profiling
Switchblade city, the goons is wilding
Escape from my slums, nigga, you got talent
And we don't want the fifth of 'yac, we want the gallon

['Scarface' sample]
What you think I'm a fucking worm like you?
I told you, man ---

[Method Man]
Vacate black, bust gats, wherever we at
You all that, hit 'em in the chest, we fall back
I got mines, nigga, where yours at?
We call that, raw rap, got fiends in front of my door mat
That Witty Unpredictable fly shit, drive-by shit
These the niggas I ride with
And we gon' get cake, ya'll, as soon as this pie split
Smacking up the dry snitch, nigga, you my bitch
Somebody put Tical on, matter fact, put Tical on
One suuu, Staten Isle on 'em
I bank roll, I break codes, and I ain't trynna catch another case, case closed
Give me my crown, cuz I deserve it, real dudes giving me pounds
But not too close though, the semis'll round
Bitches, running they mouth, goons, running your gate
My team running the block, cops running my plates
Well fuck that, Criminology rap
Niggas hate, I hate back, floating in the flyest Maybach, nigga

[Intro: Raekwon]
Yo, blow my nose for me, man
Word up, man (fuck them)

[Raekwon]
Spit in your mouth, piss on your bitch
We them wrist getters, everything real bout this, duke
You fucking with them niggas that's splashed up, slave master's master
Dumb move, blast your slut
We want it all, living in Persia, burn something
Snow White rose, bulldog ershkama
Yo take that, drive that around the corner

[Method Man]
Yeah, shit on your crew, nigga, it's Wu
Rap athletes, the trap sheet bigger than you
If you ask me, the Cash Rule
Nigga, eat that pussy, you cat food
I sneeze on the track, get at you
I'm sick in the head, I'm getting some head
If she ain't bout getting some bread, don't get in this bed
Real talk, mami, you gotta bounce

[Raekwon]
Wild like Indians, Al Capone-ians
Not from Chicago, my gun named Margo
It's only when we in beef, we humble in deep
Might kill four-five niggas, die in my sleep
I argue though, who the best, we hardly know
I came through in the S, wash me, yo
Yo, yo, do that for me, go around that car

[Method Man]
Niggas, digging they nose, and digging they ass
When I got chips, can't none of ya'll dig in my bag
I pop shit, my killas is black, I got chicks that got chicks
My real world realer than rap
I'm hot, bitch, material, Meth, beyond lyrical
Wake up every morning eat that Captain Crunch cereal
That's that shit right there

[Raekwon]
Dick game super, grupa fish, Cris' Krug' lottos
I'mma bring it back, one wish
Fresh to death, I'm always, always Rae in the hallways
Yeah, always stay
Ya'll rappers gon' feel my pain, but the other way around
When it's going down, I'm gon' rain
That's my chair, nigga, get the fuck out of it

[Method Man]
Yo, fuck you, pay me, if Dirt Dog could see me now
He'd probably say "Fuck you, pay me"
Blowing smoke clouds, shit's crazy
Doorag your dome, get wavy, rap ain't done shit for me lately
It's ass backwards, this game trynna play me
I bet this never happens to Jay-Z
Get money, fuck them haters, real talk

[Raekwon]
Pay me, play me, weigh he, just the right measurement
This may happen in a day, G
I'mma keep it real, for real G's, niggas is lame
Industry pussies, we can't feel these
Regardless that I'm paid in flossy, rich in the mind
I do this for the nine niggas who forced me
Ya'll niggas is playing me, man

[No lyrics]

[No lyrics]

[Chorus: Michael Jackson "We're Almost There" sample]
No matter how hard, the task may seem
Don't give up our plans, don't give up our dreams
No broken bridges, can turn us around
Cause what we're searchin' for, will soon be found

[Ghostface Killah]
Aiyo, listen here, shorty, Camay glow
You know we both make angels when we lay in the snow
Heat the house with the oven when the cheese got low
Cuz Toney, can't be out there pushing that blow
You made plans and dreams, not grands of schemes
I wanna search for the meaning of love, see what it means
Cuz we hustle so hard, cross so many bridges
Made babies, took trips to the mall, for family pictures
And our souls is magnetic, we the meaning of destiny
Be that banker of trust that looks to invest in me
Together, to get her, means for me to get you
We back, reunite like the Wu
See we soul mates, we melt like cookies and cream
And I fiend for the days and the nights to sex my queen
So no matter how hard it seems, dreams come true
Keep Allah in our hearts, hugs and kisses, Toney Starks

[Chorus]

[Method Man]
Uh, still applying the pain
The purple frying my brain, this woman's crying again
She, tired of fighting, my feelings likely the same
That's what happens when you wife 'em and they try to tighten the chain
See, she in the right, so I put her right in her lane
I'm all night with the pipe, I can feel her biting my chain
She, got her own, I ain't gotta buy her a thang
I be burning up the sheets everytime I'm lighting the game
We, go together like, Martin and Gina, but
She get uptight when we fight like Ike and Tina, so
Love her or leave her alone, like I ain't need her tho
A minute later I'm back, like I ain't mean it, yo
We break up, just to make up, she fly without the makeup
Together we upgrade to A plus
So all this bickering ain't us, we bigger than that
You normally cool when I'm digging your back, now fall back, baby

[Chorus]

[Raekwon]
Shorty with the flavor like Breyer's, real sweet with your thick legs
Look like you drink eggs, you lying
Now you met a teflon don, stay high, Levi's on
Wire cell frames, no games
I'm into cashing in, getting this paper, buying up acres
Ride around, and yo, fuck with my neighbors
Pocket full of hundreds and weed, light the Philly cigar up
And go dolo, riding through SoHo
You hear the little baby in the back? That's the sound of sweet life
A sweet wiz'll make you a sweet night
And chill with the pawns we on, cuz life is a chessboard
You better have you sword and vest on
Never hate your enemies, cuz it effects judgment
They only hate it if they know you getting hella cheese
That's what it is, what it do for you
Don't let the truth bore you, word up, don't let the roof spoil

[Chorus]

[** feat. Inspectah Deck, Sun God:]


[Method Man:]
Another day, another dollar
I got mines, ain't got nothing to father
Fuck a role model, never had one to follow
Lot of cotton mouth rappers, I'm a hard one to swallow
Here's another hard one to goggle, fuck your life, that's the motto
I'm nice with mics, Cus D'Amato
Drug related, blunt guts all up in your condo
Hate a noisy woman, why you all up in my convo

[Chorus: ~Method Man~]
Let me hold something, look at you killas, like you owe something
Stole something, give me my paper, 'fore I blow something
Right now, give me my fucking shit, chicka-blaow
I want it right now, give me my fucking shit, chicka-blaow
Shady niggas hiding the loot, you see my baby needs shoes
And the record label trynna recoupe
I want it right now, give me my fucking shit, chicka-blaow
And I mean right now, give me my fucking shit, chicka-blaow

[Ghostface Killah:]
Gun battles, so many chains on the neck
Hands and feet, niggas say I'm Shaq
Sky blue, terry cloth, low pullover
Hit ten like a 2010 new Hova
Movies on, never ran it, call me a don
Been shitting everywhere, cuz niggas can't stand it
Terminate faggots who violate us a square
Goon therapy, S.I., we don't fight fair
Beef? We can get it on, right here
And that includes ya'll low niggas wearing tight gear

[Sun God:]
Sun God, and that's your target, aim right there
My money long and green like Buzz Lightyear
I'm all right here, the way I move the blow
Fuck a show, you would think it was an all white affair
Been fuego, more fire here, then you seen me
Getting money off the water like a pall bearer there
No Newports, Marlboro's here, go smoke that
The smoke in your face, bitch, I ain't never cared
Get shot down when the Ghost smell fear, let me hold something
Look in your face like you owe something

[Repeat Chorus:]

[Inspectah Deck:]
I'm playing for the 'bucks' like Hakeem Warrick
Nickel bag in the park, my team on it
They want it like that and the street, is dry as a well
Hell, that's why I sell crack on the beat
I ain't trynna just happen to eat, I'mma make a nigga dance
Even if I got to clap in the street
This is something like lock up, murder behind bars
A warrior, my story defined by my scars
Seven thirty verbal, my word work circle
You a jerk, fool, I burn you like your birdds do

[Repeat Chorus:]

[Intro: Raekwon]
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
You know the deal, nigga
Sha what's good nigga?
Lex Diamond, your big brother here, you know
Let's work this shit out, man
Yeah, yeah, yeah, aiyo, aiyo

[Raekwon]
Fresh out the jungle where the blue boys run
We carry rugers, smoking toast on your throat like oolas
Hitting reefer, playing my square, windbreaker jacket
Holding my bear, rock and roll in my lear
I have to eat, gun carefully, let the cocaine bling
Strings is nothing, get your hoe clapped, king
We hundred burners, onion turners, all this, came out the yard
With twenty five to lifers, loving my squad
You know the gun show off, whips is gleaming, clean as a fuck
In dirty hallways, the ninas'll cluck
This is crime station, my obligation is to look raw as ever
Feed my little sons and patients
Cuz they hungry, shining, bullet fly right through the lining
Catch me on the plane, humble and wining
Feeding me, fresh niggas, downtown, Brooklyn in them brook lands
Is Timbed up, looking for them jookes, with my miss and

[Chorus: Ghostface Killah]
Yo, the streets is a part of me
What you witnessing now is don archery
Pack a lambskin hostler, one of these rocks'll soft you over
You ain't nothing, you'se a bitch ass poser
Fiends on your face, on the T-shirt, thinking that you envy the P
Underneath'll be R.I.P.
That's what you get, yo, for being so cocky
Two guns, thumbs up, for me and my posse

[Ghostface Killah]
Yo, what's the science, little nigga? Yo, you beefing too hard
I throw five in your Champ hood, and envy your squad
You try to stick out your fucking hand, nah, I don't want no dap, nigga
Fucking lucky you ain't get glammed
Bitch ass nigga, you wrong, yo, you mingle with rats
The other day you got caught with the gat, nigga
How you home, nigga? Why you even up in my square?
Like you get busy, got the block hot and stare
Fresh coffins fast, they spitting, ya'll fake bitches
Snitches get mad love, hundred and eight stitches
My condolences, word life, if they can find you a real killa
Someone close is singing like the Jonases
Crime Stoppers, the tips keep pouring in
For a G, you be suprised who's going in
Block huggers, the ones who be holding they jock
And suck my cock, the real cock lovers

[Chorus]

[Method Man]
Ya'll can call me cook up or come back
My flow hot, my hood hot, cuz of one rat
My block on fire cuz of one match
I spit with paper like thumbstacks, these cougars wanna play all these
young cats
With pussy, turning boys to men, so I resort to the pen
But at the same time, I'm pointing the pen
And now it's game time, nigga, you in? You better thicken your skin
Move with your peoples through the thick and the thin
I watch for po-po, they raiding the crib
And I ain't trying to get jammed, and have the next man raising my kids
God forbid, dudes be hating on his, because a nigga go hard
And hit 'em harder then they saying they is
But that's just New York, I carry the torch, just long enough
To light a Newport and carry this thought
Fuck what you thought, the bigger the boss, bigger the cost
They don't know about the Tribe of Shabazz, niggas is lost

[Chorus]

[Intro: Ghostface Killah]
Yeah, them niggas talking bout ya'll always want some lyrics, right?
Real lyrics, well here we go, I'mma tell you a little story
That's right, watch this shit, nigga, here we go, ya'll, your ass
Yeah, we write for days, hot shit, uh-huh
Dope, drugs, sex, murder, King James version

[Ghostface Killah]
Aiyo, needle was left hanging, in the arm of a pimp
He walk with a limp, had bitches on the payroll
He gave the seeds candy and his family was poor
Drove a '68 Caddy with the fur on the door
The other macks ain't have jack on him, not even Goldie
Slowly, he would rise, kept his runners with the police
Jim Brown was his man, his brother was Muslim, they tried to convert him
And turn righteous, but the streets got the good of him
Big hats with gorgeous stones, honey designed the slacks
With two attempts on his bottom bitch, her name was Precious
Silky skin, priceless pussy, she took karate
Her bubble ass got Pretty Chipp rich
You can smell her perfume on every street corner
A sexy muthafucka with the mean face on her
Precious, sported bulletproof dresses, defending caring sex
Thirteen smith, this boo that study her lessons
She was the key to Pretty Chipp riches, bitches is fortune slang
Control the south side, her name rings
Lookout for the black cherry pussy extortion
Any other hoes get pregnant, bet they get an abortion
Back at the pub, at the Alice spot, bumping the sounds of Curtis
Playing Live in the jukebox, this broad named Cookie
In the purse, fifty thou' in cash
Passed off to Chipp, told him count it fast, another 10 in my bloomers
Fuck the rumors, it's lies, baby, you my daddy
Bitches never saw me jumping out of Dirt Dog's cabby
I'm a loyal bitch, and chicks can't stand me, pimps
They know I'm ill, that's why they never put hands on me
From Fillmore Slim to Goldie, Pretty Toney
Frank War told me, C.C. get that money
My potentials, credentials, my mouth stay hot
Like Chinese mushrooms, wasabi with spicy lentils
The other day I brought a little gat, where I keep near my lower back
Cause these niggas don't know how to act
At the Apollo, Ray Charles told me
Bitch just get in the car, cuz I want you to swallow
I jumped in, and his bodyguards follow
He was quick, I spit the nut on his '74 wallos
He wanted to invite me to Chicago, I said 'nah, daddy'
He pushed me out and lit up a Marlboro
(Nah, papi) Cuz I'm from New York
He taught me the talks, he taught me the walk
Cuz I'm Chipp's bitch, we dine and resort
Only nigga ever taught me, don't put swine on my fork

[Outro: "Cookie"]
And that's the truth, rest in peace, papi
This Cookie, I still got another tall Goose for you daddy
I'mma stick in the grave for you, baby
Fuck them other pimps, they ain't got shit on you, daddy

[No lyrics]

[Intro: Raekwon]
Miranda *speaking Spanish*
Yo, man, just let her live, man, stop playing, man
Oh, shit, B, where's Miranda? (She with Chef)

[Raekwon]
I dreamed it, Chef out in Cuba, a ruger
Thirty thou' on him, out in Mr. Chow, blew a cloud on him
Seen a Latin chick, laughing, clapping
Like your style, homey, tell your proud, hit the Crystal
Now we chatting, coebers and klickos, who do this a size six
She split up, had a brick, I peeped those
Her jeans was fitted, hair twisted, long as a fuck
She looked Indian, titties was plump
Had juicy lips, dimples, imprint on her pussy was mad thick
She grabbed my dick, hopped in the window
We in the Monte Carlo, bravo, uncle named Pablo
Gun connect, and he had his poke in Los Cabos
Good money, honey was strung, playing Luther in the background
Spanish version, my bunny was horny as fuck
Working the kid, we burst later, lay in the bed
Duvet sheets, my face hit the spread
Then time me, I'm not the kind of nigga, I was cool down at night
Drop my gun, shorty, my nigga
Body was sexy, "Lexy, come here, nigga, take off your drawers
Let me suck your dick, nigga, it's yours
Got real watery, Corey, damn you got good dick
You forty" spit on it, position your jaw
Call me 8-Ball, this pussy like China, climb the Great Wall
Then she came like volcanos in the late fall

[Ghostface Killah]
Lady Miranda, she half black and white like a panda
I met her at the BET Awards, in Atlanta
Glamour girl, shopping in Bloomingdale's, skin pure
Keep a fresh manicure, hands with the cutest nails
Wall Street banker, hold accounts with Jewish now
Big businessmen, who own stocks in computer sales
Meanwhile, I'm checking her jeans out, imagining
Her fat bubble, riding my dick, making her scream out
She got a mean mouth, her lips is like soup coolers
Hotter than niggas riding around with six rugers
Miss Beaulah took a day off with a rich jeweler
When she came back she had a suitcase full of Fig Newtons
I met her at a villa in Vancouver, blowing her man's buddah
Bumping Mary J. and that Grand Puba
Check the 411, from a smooth operator
Got some pictures of her naked, I'll send them to Un later

[Method Man]
Ay Dio mio, mamacita ass bonita
Remind me of the nights of Del Rio
I met at the Cotto fights, playing my seat though
That night, the linen was white, me and my hijos
Live from Puerto Rico, San Juan, where niggas sniff pedrico
Look at your man wrong, finito
Girl you know how we go, you getting my grown man on
Fuck with you primo, maybe I'm hands on, I'll massage your ego
And be the love of your life, you know your people, a thug and his wife
Gave a look, she was touching my ice, so I looked at my dick
Like don't worry, we fucking tonight
She boricua, cinnamon skin, sign is Libra
She like wife beaters and men that like to eat her
Then I meet your feet up, meet me in room 112, light this reefer
You act right, and after tonight, I might keep ya

[Intro: Ghostface Killah]
For the city, to get this money, Vegas, yo, yeah

[Ghostface Killah] (Trife Diesel)
Here's the rundown, Mustafa's getting money out in Youngstown
Get some goons together, a driver and bring them guns down
Heard he had his hands in some bricks, plus a few pounds
Hang with some wild Haitians, settle shop in the dude lounge
Niggas is migrating, he came from Cue Gardens
With a live situation, got it in preparation
When you get there, pick up the whip with the navigation
And follow all the clowns til you get to your destination
(We here Tone, got our masks on, we bout to run up in
I know you ain't talking bout the house, with the broken henge
65 Alpine Drive, it's looking shady
So I hopped out, pulled the glock out, plus the 3-18
Hit the living room, I've seen a ripped up sofa, a shattered coffee table
Broken lamps, and a flipped up stroller
The place was ransacked from front to back)
Yo, Trife, what you talking, black?
(Yo, Starks, cut the bullshit and tell me, where the office at)
Take a left and head, down the hallway steps
Pass the painting on the wall, the third door on the left
The safe is on the wall above the fireplace near the decks
Look inside the top drawer, and get the key out the chest

[Interlude: Sheek Louch (Bully)]
Damn son, aiyo what's taking this nigga Trife so long (I don't know)
Oh shit, yo Bull, get down, get down, get down
Look at Stark pulling up, son (aww man)
I'mma try to kill this nigga

[Sheek Louch] (Bully)
Aiyo, hurry up I see a car pulling up, windows tinted
Can't really tell who's in it, but, I know it's a rented
Down south plates, Atlanta or, one of them states (yo the cameras on)
Man, I wanna see what's up in those crates
Should I pop off, take his top off, before he get to you
Bully like (Yo, chill, chill, this is what we gon' do) aight
(Go ask for directions, right, I'mma go around the back
Wait for them to come inside, I'll hit these niggas with the mack)
Ok, before it even get to that, let me see where Trife is at
Hopefully he on his way, and no one gotta die today (bang bang)
Two shots go off (Homey trapped inside, quick put the mask on, Sheek)
Fuck it, Bully, let's ride
Shooting out the sunroof, missing and shit
I was too high, still think my Dutchie was lit
Trife running out the building, busting, cussing
Blood everywhere, you had to see this shit (disgusting)

[Ghostface Killah]
Yo, most of the time, yo, I'm flicked up
Stepping out the crib like I'm sixed up, don't get it mixed up
Even if I'm shaking your hand, I'm still gripped up
With two spots left, yeah, we still bricked up
Trees pine, gleem no seed, young boys feeling they self, they must be on E's
Me? I stay outted out, boating on oceans
He banging my old chick, and he mad open
Think I smell the goons, they been business since the Tunnel days
Shanks out, they ready to move
Somebody yelled out 'ballin'
In two seconds, lord, they was up on 'em
That voice, should of slowed down, baby
Now what we gon' tell his lady
Jaw on the floor, looking all crazy
Alot of vicks been going down in here, lately

[Interlude: Ghostface Killah]
In 2012, the DJ is still recognized as the crowd controller
The record breaking, keep the bottles popping and all the ass shaking

[Chorus: Ghostface Killah]
It's that Wu shit, it's that movement
It's the Wu shit, in the house

[Ghostface Killah]
Yo, should I talk about all the jewels I wore on my neck
While you had to tuck your little shit in out of respect
I'm a done, rebel out of Staten Island projects
I dare ya'll to come in my projects
Leave with no head, no neck
You thought I was Flex, the way I bombed the set
In the hallway, banger house, smelling like cake
Tongueing bitches down, most of them got scraped
Watch how I move the crowd, I'mma make 'em, make 'em clap to this
No shit, no doubt
Two shots of Hennessey, ladies want Goose
Earlier them fronting niggas, now they want a truce
Mami got a bubble in her Jimmy Choo shoe
When I go and kick it, she's a goodie two-shoe?
Yeah, right, daddy got bread
Like J. Holiday, I wanna put you to bed
Tell me your girlfriends, kicks, don't let it go to your head
Walking around in your cheap ass threads
Get away from me, stinky

[Chorus]

[Method Man]
Yeah, yo, I spit lines from the rubble room
Bottom line, I kick mines, like a mother's womb
I'm, still in my prime, fuck them other dudes
No biting's the rule, but we can eat each other's food
Flash a camera at the all time great
Single handing increase New York's crime rate
That's why I love it in the Empire State
The city where your fat ass can still find weight
But ya'll ain't getting it, the game is different
And in the recession, alot of veterans is quitting it
Every day I'm living it, your boy got blunts
Fighting after school, alot of ya'll got jumped
Staten Island, bro, ratchet under my coat, potato salads so
And we silencing that, just every day challenge us
Check a nigga out of respect, I'm spectacular, this the Massacre

[No lyrics]