Lirik Lagu Smith Brothers - Ghostface Killah
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[Intro: Ghostface Killah]Uh huh, ready bags, ready bagsThis is that motherfuckin' niggaYeah, uh, bulletproof muthafuckin' gooses outdoorsFor all the streets, all the dusts in the streetsCrusty projects and all that, the radiators is bulletproofYo, yo, come on, ah yo yo
[Ghostface Killah]What up cousin, this is most high wizardryGots to watch niggaz, so I stay on my grizzly (uh)These young boys comin' at me (yeah)Lookin' at these faggots, like yeah, you get amped off of PepsiDamn, what kind of cards you deltDoes your elevator go up? (Nope) You ain't rap too tightRight, you can tell me, G-H to O-S-TTwo hundred Bees'll get you killed by coke head SkeetThis is murder, you can get it, if my fam don't eatAnd, we slam niggaz, like we Lil' MalikWe want that Powerball money, Easter bunnies, Wool-light moneyHey dunny, we rock a half of mill and look bummyAnd bounce to the projects, pop Becks, cop Tec'sTop wrecks, execs got next, what the heckArm fed, you'se dead, that's said, no more wetThe cameras is rollin', bitch, quiet on the set
[Chorus: Ghostface Killah]You can never front on, jump or you get lumped onBurners in your face, don't you get nervous on meWe got so many gats, and them big Mac'sSomebody get the boy, I get the wilin' on blackTell 'em, we will, we will, rock you, pop youWe will, we still, got you, got you
[Trife]Aiyo aiyo, it ain't a gameThis kid is serious about his changeYa'll a bunch of wacko jacko's, amped off your namesCall me Sugar Ray, the way I dance on you lamesMy right hand'll sting you and ding you, leave stamps on your brainI got, out of state of niggaz that'll kill for beersCut you, easy to pop like balloons filled with airI dare ya'll faggot asses, punch niggaz with glassesBack in my third grade classes, squeezin' assesMy niggaz is never over, understandI'm a 2Pac, t
[Ghostface Killah]What up cousin, this is most high wizardryGots to watch niggaz, so I stay on my grizzly (uh)These young boys comin' at me (yeah)Lookin' at these faggots, like yeah, you get amped off of PepsiDamn, what kind of cards you deltDoes your elevator go up? (Nope) You ain't rap too tightRight, you can tell me, G-H to O-S-TTwo hundred Bees'll get you killed by coke head SkeetThis is murder, you can get it, if my fam don't eatAnd, we slam niggaz, like we Lil' MalikWe want that Powerball money, Easter bunnies, Wool-light moneyHey dunny, we rock a half of mill and look bummyAnd bounce to the projects, pop Becks, cop Tec'sTop wrecks, execs got next, what the heckArm fed, you'se dead, that's said, no more wetThe cameras is rollin', bitch, quiet on the set
[Chorus: Ghostface Killah]You can never front on, jump or you get lumped onBurners in your face, don't you get nervous on meWe got so many gats, and them big Mac'sSomebody get the boy, I get the wilin' on blackTell 'em, we will, we will, rock you, pop youWe will, we still, got you, got you
[Trife]Aiyo aiyo, it ain't a gameThis kid is serious about his changeYa'll a bunch of wacko jacko's, amped off your namesCall me Sugar Ray, the way I dance on you lamesMy right hand'll sting you and ding you, leave stamps on your brainI got, out of state of niggaz that'll kill for beersCut you, easy to pop like balloons filled with airI dare ya'll faggot asses, punch niggaz with glassesBack in my third grade classes, squeezin' assesMy niggaz is never over, understandI'm a 2Pac, t
