Ghostface Killah

Ghostface Killah - Ghostface lyrics

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[Chorus: female singer (Ghostface Killah)] 

Ghostface... (Yo, yo who's the boss when it comes to these songs?) 

Ghostface... (What ya'll talkin' bout... I can't hear ya'll!) 

Ghostfaaaaaaaace!! (A little louder) 

Ghostface... 



[Ghostface Killah] 

Yo, you can catch me in Z-No's on a Friday night 

Or at the Emmy's, Bentley's, Roll Royce, all white 

Fresh kicks, star studded up 

A ounce of Gertest to hold me til them Theodore and Deini's roll up 

Soak my hands in olive oil, loyal to each, Diamond 

Shoot out the clock while I'm killin' timin' 

Eight-mill just to resign me 

My bitches go crazy and pull they hair out when they can't find me 

It's like, all he say.. Mr., Mr., D.J. 

Bring it back like an instant replay 

Please, get these wack records off of me 

I can't breath, ashtma pump so I could stop the weez 

It's like they love garbage (yeah), for God's sake, I'm the real artist 

Hear they songs, dumb niggas father's 

Under my wing like Sanford and Son 

Weird sons, I'm a big gun, like Big Pun, Big L and Jason 



[Chorus] 



[Ghostface Killah] 

I'm like a green and white kickball, I bounce 

Spin off walls and cars, the Wizard of Clarks, Tony Oz 

In the third grade, I bagged Penny 

Well Butter on your burns, guess Daddy was concerned like many 

Now Daddy's blowin' 'sherm and Remi 

On the road toll up, bust the promoter so I can shit in Denny's 

This is Tone-Tana, spangled banded with four hammers 

Bangles get tangled and they cause manners 

Money, don't stop, get it, get it, I'm not finished with it 

Menaced out, tell your click that Dennis did it 

Rock them boats and I copped them ropes 

Resurging the mics, I deal with only knives and throats 

Hold my tongue around fake niggas 

Look at 'em sideways and pull my trees 

Ask me to hit it, I'm like, Nigga Please, fuck outta here! 

Fuck war with niggas, facin' me, fuckas, step up the gear 



[Hook: Ghostface Killah] 

Ghost dough and spend it though 

Plus got the pen exposed 

Countin' mad money and sheep, god damn 

Take a look at the radio, shit soundin' shady, yo 

Everything I'm hearin' is weak 

We got them long biscuits, long clip shit 

Run for the hills and re-charge your shit 

Come back if you think that you are-are do-do-do-don! 



[Chorus] 



[Outro: woman] 

The dopest, flyest, O.G., pimp, hustler 

Gangsta, playa, hardcore muthafucka living today...



Get this song at:
bol.com
amazon.com

Copyrights:

Author: ?

Composer: ?

Publisher: ?

Details:

Language: English

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