Clipse of DOOM

[Intro: Ghostface Killah]

Ayo, turn those lights down while I'm recording!

Matter 'fact–y'all niggas get the fuck out the room, G!

Straight up! Sipping on that bullshit Budweiser

Nah'mean? Yo! ...What? Fuck you too, nigga!

'Kind of pants you got on motherfucker? Capris?!

Bitch ass nigga, go get ya feet done!

Eat a dick, nigga!

[Verse 1: Ghostface Killah]

Catch me in the 80's drop

Old school Mercedes with a brand new baby Glock

Right from my lady's sock with two bodies on it (Yeah!)

Capricorn, Aquarius

Lost so much blood, these bitch niggas in they periods

They say I be living the role, like 'Pac in Juice

And only fuck with cute bitches that can fly and boost

And they ears be chandeliers, lit up like a lamp, who cares?!

They cooch is fierce, the only thing loose is hairs

That's right, y'all, if a rap nigga say my name I'm a fight y'all

Fuck a state, light charge

My predicate status, irrelevant

My man got the big rap sheet that's outweighing two elephants

Jumbo shits from New Orleans

Players and pimps that bit off fiends

Quick, swift with the hands, powder blue Wally's is dyed, vanilla Bally's is mean

Can't none of y'all motherfuckers fuck with my team! Uh

[Chorus: Trife Da God]

Ayo – we the live niggas holding heat on the street corners

Sic the beast on you, turn mothers to mourners

Money launderers, neighborhood coroners, place bodies in bags

Tango with dirty Cash, cocaine Jags

Kings of the Hill, out to blow like propane gas

Package the raw, Theodore – we got the game on smash

'Cause we cut from the same cloth

Big guns ready to bang off

Slide off them cables and take them rings off!

[Verse 2: Ghostface Killah]

We hold the weight of four synagogues

Jelly'd uptown in them beat down rented cars

Blowing mad, wetting 'em

Milk cash, heavy TECs, hood rats, sexing 'em

Paris crew, little dudes, please – I was repping 'em

Niggas couldn't come through (Word!)

That's when the block was like wallpaper, loved sticking niggas like Krazy Glue

Blackouts happened, God forbid, don't be around –

The bag lady'll murk you and let off in the next town!

She struck two times (Boom!)

Get caught, good luck – blood, it ain't no Heinz

Blow a hockey puck hole in the back of your spine

She put two cut up mirrors in replace of your eyes

So when the cops look, they see theyselves, they all gonna die

It's the tale of the Crips and Bloods, pimps and thugs

Get ya face bashed in on the concrete rug

And on that note, I'ma say peace!

Theodore! Word to Darryl Mack's teeth!

[Chorus: Trife Da God]

Ayo – we the live niggas holding heat on the street corners

Sic the beast on you, turn mothers to mourners

Money launderers, neighborhood coroners, place bodies in bags

Tango with dirty Cash, cocaine Jags

Kings of the Hill, out to blow like propane gas

Package the raw, Theodore – we got the game on smash

'Cause we cut from the same cloth

Big guns ready to bang off

Slide off them cables and take them rings off!

[Verse 3: Ghostface Killah]

Yo! Aiyyo, I'll break every bone in your wrist

Smack you in the back of ya head on the block while you holding your dick

My semi, they call it the Crouching Tiger

A hundred bowls of Total is trash, because my lead eat through fibers

Peel your potato like Ore-Ida

On the day of your death people had candles, but couldn't find no lighter

Fuck your mural! Fuck your hood!

You ain't a street legend like me –

Blake Carrington holding the Dynasty

I muffle motherfuckers up like Meineke

And write a thousand bar verse that all rhymes with "E"

Jewel thief, Shazam bangles, in the vault deep

And cruise the desert, mad heavy in the stole Jeep

I'm the taste in Bush's mouth – nasty!

Afghanistan missions, gun training in the grassy fatigues

Picking niggas off by the Red Sea

And did it all for Ghost, sniffing on caffeine!