9 Milli Bros. Lyrics - Fishscale - Ghostface Killah

Bob Digi, U-G-O-D, Raekwon 

The Chef, the Inspektah Deck 

M-E-T-H-O-D the B-O-B-B 

(The Man) 

Straight up, Masta Killa, the GZA 

The Genius, it's the Ol' D-d-dirty Bastard 

One, two, one, two 

(Killer Beats) 

Turn it up, turn it up 

The headphones, turn it up 

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Yo, you hear me? 

(Yeah, whut up Toney?) 

W'sup Don' Don' 

(All the way up) 

You know how we do 

(Let's get this paper together) 

You motherfuckin' right Pa, uh, huh 

(That's right, c'mon nigga) 

That's as far as it goes? 

Sound about to go off on some real live 

Wu shit, uh, huh 

(WTC, Ghost-face) 

Lemme give y'all the bullshit 

for y'all niggas, check it out 

The burners in the stash, we about the cash 

We got females that got it like that 

The golden child's that bone the crowd 

See niggas in the place that bit my style 

Photos 

Well I'm a singer, dancer, we bulletproof brothers 

Wu-Tang got the answer 

'Cuz if I had a chance to do it again 

I will still keep the heat in my pants, uh 

Y'all be nice to the crack heads, everybody listen up 

I shot one of my bitches, the hoe ain't trick enough 

Word life to big screen Don, tapping dust-bones out 

With star-writers like I fucked Celine Dion 

Stuck everything that's the God's honest beyond 

We airin' niggas out that's the type shit that we on 

Official Wu-Tang head-banger 

Flood your space with big waves like you did in Sri Lanka 

Yo, I drink heavy gallons of Crew, play the big part 

Niggas got squid on the grill, selling kids Clarks 

Finesse notes, yo, the Guess on with the vest pose 

Yellow suede one matching hat with the gray gun 

Niggas be rhymin' for nothing, then my team pull up 

We all wore down y'all broke niggas stay frontin' 

Lines come digital stupid, plus ain't got no jury on 

Bet I'm still live and I'm coopin' 

Two of my silver-backs fun through a pack of your wolves 

Front on react and sippin' Cognac so relax dude 

Know I'm with these cracks dude 

Yo, one, two 

Yo, Dirt McGirt, solid tone smith with fifth shots 

Lick shots, leave your head like a Shaolin monk with six dots 

Brooklyn, zoo, zoo 

Brooklyn, zoo, zoo 

It's the return of Bin Laden, grab your armor 

Smash pretty boy niggas, crush they karma 

Eat bones with alligators, roll deep with my entourage 

My whole crew's fresh out the bars 

Diggler, a.k.a The Cab Driver 

Drop him off in the middle of fire 

Dirty Island, drag bodies to the murder land 

Knock niggas out hurtin' my hand 

I remember in the elevator we was playin' corners 

Now we play the corners and the cops is stayin' on us 

Staten's where the war is 

Where the court system's running out of warrants 

Where TNT be jumping out the Taurus 

For real I can't call it 

You see I love Lucy 'cuz she Lawless 

She's exactly like that 10304 is 

Snitch niggas swallow your tongue 

Already know the island I'm from 

And y'all don't want no problems with them 

We got a history, full of lightning victories 

Conceptual breakthrough it ain't no mystery 

Long vision, from giants in every way 

Rap czars, magnificent flows for every day 

From the East to the Ville, from the West to the hills 

Incredible rhymes, encouraging skills 

From rat packs, the smallest crews were enormous 

They hit 'em fast, with an effortless performance 

MCs start fleeing in flocks 

Especially those that's more sensitive to heat and shock 

We grindin', down to the bone my name grounded in stone 

I'm Mr Violence we loungin' with Chrome 

Mr Violence we lounge in his home, hit the housing on Rome 

Shining like a hundred thousand in stones 

Move mountains with poems, got a jones for dinero 

160, my song, we throwin' elbows 

The hoes cling, sho thing, we know kings 

Only dime dikes, with minds right, we choose Queens 

Yeah we wild like rock stars who smash guitars 

Yo son split his face with the toast, he ain't Ghost 

It's no joke, iron coat, rifle with a scope 

One toke, brains float, shot to the throat 

Before the smoke hit, witness the killing 

Southern crime scene, body on the block 

Eyes open from the shock of being popped in the neck 

Yet he's still hella lit cigarette between his fingers 

Danger when you step into the chamber with the master 

Disaster, gotta blast ya, 'cuz I have ta 

The rat pack is back from the Island of Stat' 

Leave you cursed us 'cuz you worship the gat 

The first one to snap drunk off your Smirnoff 

Blow the bouncer's ear off, let him floss he the boss 

Handcuffed to the turntables like Wizard Theodore 

See it's pure, let it rain pearly ounces 

Bang him with the thing that hang from the trousers 

You don't want no drama, I'm flaming fast 

That nigga jumped up and did the Damon Dash