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Songs | Albums | Album Arts
Lyricist: Ghostface killa
Lyrics:
(intro: ghostface killah) yes, yes, we like to thank you you are the 77th caller you know you just won a pair of theodore drawers and all that how do you feel about that? (oh my god, that is good daddy i love y'all) yeah, that's right baby, no doubt... right now, his name is ghostface check this joint out right here, it's new, word up
(ghostface killah) i'm the mighty joe young of rap live off of mighty gold, tongue and yack y'all be amazed how i brought it back two porsche's, big ass ranch with twelve horses scarface breeze when i speak, the all bosses plus the jewelry so truck, the cuffs get you nauseous two years, been through like six divorces now the talking put my business in the street, but i'm like cement, i rock when i step kill music with no hands and leave with no weed stuff like my bitches better when they wore reebok's see hot, let's have a toast, i verbally bomb deacons have the whole church praying for ghost when we speak we give sermons, and switch our names over permits the big shit, you might get burned with god-body fly automobiles with grills two thousand, fifteen, nigga, we can take off the wheel a georget jetson, so y'all sit still chill, peace to queens, so the god allah reel's reel it's the takeover, breaks over, make something for funny ass package, who want, and a cake over monster bangels, bojangles got the forty cocked from all angles fuck a rope nigga, my gold chain'll hang you danish darts, language arts, slanger banger you punk motherfucka...
(chorus: ghostface killah) all you talk is poor... all of your fushu, i got gats, ghostface that but your rhymes ain't workin' now, look who's hurtin' now i had to shut you down, i had to shut you down
(ghostface killah) welcome to saturday night live, write rhymes glide on beats, and we high from the police the dogs bark funny, in fact, when i'm clean
they can smell mark money, truck and mad bummy off the peter, grab shoots, cerebel paisley gats, pull out the mack on cancer, the ooh-wop i bag down aids, word to the u.s. there's no need to panic, yo, we been through a phase like, namebelts, got the fronts in alfa romeo's tent the patrol niggas, that we had on a payrole i play on niggas like stop and go and tell the other liquors that don pop more and venus told mercury she a hot ho me, i'm just thinkin' bout what's next for ghost the enterprise worth billions, delay america to africa, home away, the six text-tillion turn, siskel and ebert givin' two thumbs new york times call it my best work, bump to it you can rolling stone every bone, and kill 'em at the grammy's have 'em sit down, polly with the top five families blocka-blocka, boom, now they all dead now i'm the only one gettin' that bread, that's right and the only one rockin' those threads see these cowards let the fuckin' lead go to they head
(hook: ghostface killah) i needed to scream on all y'all bitches, birds but the more you bite my style, the more i learn your rhymes ain't workin' now, look who's hurtin' now i had to shut you down, i had to shut you down
(outro: ghostface killah) god, yeah, party people you are now listenin' to the sounds of ghost radio 777 f.m. and all that, no doubt it's real right about now, yeah the dance floor is packed and all that everything lookin' glory, i see asses i see glasses in the air, yo, put your hands in the air come one, let me hear you see theodore, 'theodore' theodore, 'theodore', yeah, yeah that was chunky and all that no doubt, but yo, where staten island at? where y'all at? make some noise, yo, yo, come on yeah, check-check-check-check me out check-check-checkin' me out, come on take-take-take-takin' me out, whose take-take-takin' me out come on baby, take me out, uh-huh, yeah, no doubt, no doubt
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