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Songs | Albums | Album Arts
Lyricist: Ghostface Killah
Lyrics:
Raekwon: Hit me, hit me, hit me, hit me I don't wanna here nuttin' Word Up, got to pay Yeah, Its like that right Blow his Back out, make his shoes work
Aye Yo, this shit be off the knock it rock whatever cock block it cat get blown, who own this street corner, foreigner hesitate to rock a Hummer Navy Seal top runner, rhyme this summer For real, marinating nigga's skating debating waiting, style flowinly relating Fine line switch it on ya like Venetian blinds the mission is mine, fabulous King I Devine Titanium Hydro collado, Yo dunn dunn polly dis conjunction Son what, slang doctor, Medicaid the kids pay it say if these niggas in affect dunn, stay rap related Cassette rhymer, 5-G cosigner, line for liner Poet designer, sharp like liners Mic of the year award, fly gear award Them niggas over there be analysing for one sword Get bent, pay the rent, plus still we invent Nuff shit to get your whole team crazily sent Now all I need is a half gallon of weed Proceed, to bust as Mike Ditka made three seeds then Max out like two Ack's inside the parking lot Son Bark a lot and get seen hit in that dark a lot What now blow, clicking like a calico Gold Maximilian, one love keep it real yo
Ghostface Killah: Yo, hit me for these Tommy Hill, Ice rockin niggas Peace, the summers mine, I blow the biggest Back up off me, while I grab my dick and hold the Heini Park the Blue 600, Wally kings is right behind me Tackle clubs, never rock Lugz, I'm way above These mic's is like golden gloves verses spark plug Its like the pennant, Seminars the Play-off Start the J off like Cochran got OJ off The Specialist who eyeballed the mistress necklace Perpetuous, this curly head kid's treacherous Leggo the Eggo, so we can dip dip dive the gleego Throwing can-can, eat that plus this Instrumental Awwww Shit say Stark-aligist, Starks-aligist Fried fish halibut pull out the bull horn and celebrate like Kunta was born we elbowed our way inside loud and got on I played the building, burn a branch and get filled in Like Pilgrims G-ing Pepperidge Farms from out a million who wanna rhyme? who wanna challenge the swordsman? that rock that fisherman hat like Gordon's
U-God: I hose down the place no shots to the face Elite Special force no religion style faith The melting pot boil gun shot drama soil Gamble when I scramble handle hot pots of oil Man handle brain killing erect my hidden Streets may be potent put your 9-6 bid in Vampire Curse disperse on each verse Swim in black water, act slaughter through my earth You're hit by my element Great Wall of China Mountain Peak hold the globe like vagina Measure on my mic stand, molecule and strand Finger rolling rhythm ride the horse one hand 'GoldenEye', 'Spy vs. Spy', guilty of suspicion Chess boxer, mic in dead body position 40 oz. Ciga-art, three verse invented Divine universal black man representing Similar the pure, rhyme blowing out the pore Battery in the back, keep it charged for the raw I'm bred type thorough, pistol lyro gun hero renaissance rebel shadow boxing your barrel Fully woven Beethoven, hit you on a humble hard enough to hurt you, chastise my rap styles Lock down, for this curfew
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