[Intro: Ghostface Killah]
Yeah, testing one-two, one-two
Testing, one-two, yeah
One-two
[Verse 1: 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 (Uh), mustard handle (Yeah)
'Bout the same size of little Tyshaun 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
Bow-legged old men 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, and 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
Cipha Sounds, DJ Clue, Envy – next, Staten be the scoop
[Chorus: Ghostface Killah]
We them brick flippin' niggas with cash-rule – relax, duke
Doctor bills, funerals – that's what cash do (Blah)
Come around here fronting, we'll splash you
Staten Island murder goons, cousin, we'll scratch you (Yo)
[Verse 2: Ghostface Killah]
Heard some of ya'll singing like Lou Rawls
Try to fuck me—you gon' suffer from blue balls
Tone's a karate champ, shottie champ
You period niggas be spottin' with bad cramps
Intestines looking like chitlins
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
Alfalfa with the gun to the Rascals
Jessica Alba is one of my burns
Plus AlkaSeltzer's blowing up birds
Out to melt your brain cells like alien herb
[Chorus: Ghostface Killah]
We them brick flippin' niggas with cash-rule (Ooh) – relax, duke
Doctor bills, funerals – that's what cash do (Blah)
Come around here fronting, we'll splash you
Staten Island murder goons, cousin, we'll scratch you
[Verse 3: Ghostface Killah]
Get lost in my hood, it's like you lost in Elmira (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 off half of ya' knee
That's what happens in war (What?)
When the hyenas 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
