Tony Sigel Lyrics - Ghostdeini The Great - Ghostface Killah

[Ghostface Killah] 

Yo, straight out the ghetto, I'm damn hood 

I Stack-A-Dollar like a whole rack of canned goods 

Baggy jeans, no Timbs, A.C.G. boots 

Living in the Crack Spot, banging at Sheek Louch 

The narcotics is far from garbage 

Whether it's cold or it's late August 

My shit is fresh cuz I catch the harvest 

My little cousin bubble Swatches and carry a couple oxes 

Keep a duece-deuce by his ankle and get it popping 

You know, we be the boys clocking the graveyard shift 

Big bundles, counting our CREAM, burning the lazer spliff 

My man, jumps out the whip with the A.R. fifth 

And we barred from plenty of parties cuz we start shit 

Parole hoes, six months in the box 

My little sister got her head shaved off 

She made it home from shop 

We selling cartons, Pampers, Similac formula 

Anything it take because the paper keep calling ya 

Gangstas keep balling for sure, we want more 

We make it rain from the tech and wop 

The Lex pouring and the precincts don't have enough cups for us 

To slow us up, they hit us with dust 

Then they rush, bust, my big man Ron'll break the cuffs 

Three-hundred pound nigga, po-po has to fuck him up 

They say that my projects shall undergo therapy 

We never voted, we voting for Oprah, Obama, and Eric B. 

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[Styles P] 

The ill rap niggaz that kill 

Destroy shit but they able to build 

Come fuck with the real 

Coward, better play your part 

This shit'll lace yo' heart 

Get hit with a Ghostface dart 

And you better live this shit to fullest 

Or be ready to pull it 

Or be hit with a B. Sig' bullet 

The ill rap niggaz that kill 

Destroy shit but they able to build 

Come fuck with the real 

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[Beanie Sigel] 

It's the Broad Street Bully and the Killah with no face 

My mack bullets burn like tequila with no chase 

My knifework like a guillotine sword cutting 

Niggaz stop fronting for my Killa Beez swarm something 

Bzzz, empty out the whole clip then reload 

Shotgun barrel leave it smoking like a broke stove 

Yeah, and I'm all about that bullshit 

The casket, the hearse and the pastor in the pulpit 

I kill a nigga at the drop of a dime 

Just imagine what I do for a quarter 

Ain't no telling what I do for a dollar 

Pop a nigga right in front of his mama 

Son a nigga right in front of his daughter 

And I'm nothing like the father 

He couldn't come from these nuts I got 

Or see Baltimore suck this cock 

I know most of y'all wouldn't understand 

Get it... get it... understand 

Yeah, some niggaz will, and some niggaz won't 

Like some niggaz kill, and some niggaz don't 

You'se a fake until you make it type of nigga 

I'm a straight up take it type of nigga 

Pistol whip a nigga 'til I break it type of nigga 

I'm hard on chumps, most these dudes is fags 

Put the guard on punks, push the broom up they ass 

Or the knife like American meat 

American Sig', it's Muslim, so I ain't feeling Bush overseas 

I think with the wisdom of Malcolm, got the soul of a panther 

So "By Any Means" is the anthem, you gon' have to cut me out the track 

like cancer 

I can't stop, won't stop, this how we do it from Philly to Shaolin 

All my niggaz swap in (Yeah nigga) 

[Solomon Childs] 

Guns imported from Dubai, wheelchairs and shitbags 

Peach Snapples and pretty scapals 

Renaissance, I'll stick a pick in ya gut at the chapel 

Or blow a nigga for a box of Huggies 

Cop killas with a box of dummies 

Gummies, stuck to the project floors 

Niggaz is suited up and we ready for war