Murda Goons Lyrics - Hidden Darts (special Edition) - Ghostface Killah

[Intro: Ghostface Killah] 

Yeah, testing one-two, one-two 

Testing, one-two, yeah, one-two 

[Ghostface Killah] 

I've lived the life of Sonny Carson 

Favorite slacks was the baby blue knitted sharkskins 

Custom made like the ace of spade 

Switching robes when I leave the forum 

In the sleeve is a classic date 

Russian cut, mustard handle, bout the same size 

Of little tight Shawn with his Nikes on, still blamp you 

Vamp you, throwing homo's out they sandals 

Leave your brain all chunky like I'm advertising soup from Campbell's 

Bowl legged old man give me props, all I do is buy 'em a bottle 

Hit 'em off, like "peace, pops!", Fishscale got the streets hot 

All you gotta do is go on the road, with Dipset, Rae & D-Block 

And that's how we take New York back (yeah) 

Flex and the Pitbulls, Heavy Hitters, Kay Slay, Absolut 

Camillo, Lantern, load the wax up, cock and shoot 

Cypha Sounds, DJ Clue, Envy, next, Staten be the scoop 

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[Chorus: Ghostface Killah] 

We them brick, flippin' niggas with Cash Rule, relax duke 

Doctor bills, funerals, that's what cash do 

Come around here, fronting, we'll splash you 

Staten Island murder goons, cousin, we'll scratch you 

[Ghostface Killah] 

Yo, heard some of ya'll singing like Lou Rawls 

Try to f**k me, you gon' suffer from blue balls 

Tone's a karate champ, shottie champ 

You period niggas be spotting with bad cramps 

Intestines looking like chitlings 

All we need is hot sauce, my pork eaters, go and get rid of 'em 

Kites and death threats, ya'll keep sending 'em 

For every dart you throw, my last one's killing 'em 

Like cancer patients, in the process, losing they hair 

You'll be fighting for life, scratching and gagging 

Panicking, gasping for air, suffocating from no-wind syndrome 

Like somebody cut the neck of a deer 

It's algebra in the third, Alfa Alfa with the gun to the rascal 

Jessica Alba is one of my birds 

Plus AlcaSeltzer's blowing up bursts 

Out to melt you brain cells like Alien herb 

Photos 

[Chorus] 

[Ghostface Killah] 

Get lost in my hood, it's like you lost in El Mira 

You might get poked up, smoked up, throat cut 

Rocking them little fly chains, get yoked up 

Ya'll Boar's Head niggas, ya'll just cold cuts 

Victims of night time street horror, going home with casualties 

The twelve gauge blew a path in your knee 

That's what happens in war, when the high heaters don't eat 

We creep, our stomach growls loud, so we don't sleep, tote heat 

Won't speak, (we them), we them grill niggas, we smoke beef 

[Chorus]