Metal Lungies

Ghostface Killah

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    [Intro: sample]
    World, world, world, premiere, premiere, premiere
    World, world, world, premiere, premiere, premiere

    [Ghostface Killah]
    What these clown niggaz hollerin'?
    What they need to be hollerin', is "There go Theodore!"
    Put the ball down, we can't score
    They pen shit to blackboards, make queens out of wack broads
    You see us comin'? Fuck that Fam shit, just pass off, you bitch
    Crystal' Dana Dane's wrapped around your neck
    Lookin' rich, baow, you fucked up now
    See my gun, nigga? This baby got stuffed uptown
    Shouted out, made a whole safe with the pump root pounds
    My buddy, keep my gun, right next to my tummy
    Ask the click, yo, they spit metal lungies
    Detach wigs, kill flunkies off contact, sonsee
    Didn't mommy tell y'all niggaz to wear clean undies?
    See y'all should of listened to her
    She knew her son had a big mouth, and some day death would accur
    Please for Ms. Gale's sake, and her seeds
    Pass the flurry, ain't fuckin' around, they knocked to her weave

    [Chorus: Ghostface Killah]
    Uh-oh... (word up) This still... (what you talkin' bout, baby?)
    Real kids spit that shit..

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    [Sheek Louch]
    Let's go, let's go, let's go, yo, yeah
    Me and Starks clear projects parks
    With our '93 shit, army coat green and light tan Clarks
    Niggaz think I'm lucky, bitches wanna fuck me
    And put me in the tub with them like I'm a rubber ducky
    I got a revolver in the pump about the size of Chucky
    I remember faces easy as I tie my laces
    Here, put the metal in your mouth, like you was rockin' braces
    I spit an iron lungie, yeah, I'm old school like the Iron Monkey
    My shit powerful enough to lift a fuckin' donkey
    I got heavy chrome, niggaz don't care if you live to die
    They happier than Marbury home
    Ya'll niggaz better kill me, my street niggaz feel me
    Louch gotta eat, ends gotta meet
    The hard shit you kickin' bout is on beat as Tweet
    This is Theodore, D-Block, the year adore
    It's son who fall, with the four-four, niggaz like..

    [Chorus]

    [Styles P.]
    Yeah... nigga this is Ghost with Ghostface
    I don't sell millions but I get millions from the v's who smoke base
    Somebody leavin' out with a poked face
    Tone, you burnin' to kick his teeth out, and sware don't catch no case
    I'mma make you look like you smoke taste, and we don't leave no trace
    These rap niggaz sware that they so safe
    I don't wanna talk to you holmes, I don't communicate
    My guns they in my hand, one in my palm
    And I could dial your number, like a smile off the face
    With the H.K. 9, I'm the all black hummer
    Metal lungies'll spit the grungiest shit
    Hungriest shit, seventeen dummies a clip
    Tell them rap niggaz to suck my dick, fuck the industry
    And shift, shut down the store, bust my shit
    I got some hustlin' ass niggaz that'll pump my bricks
    And some dust head niggaz that'll dump my clips, what?

    [Chorus]

    Información de la canción

    Composición: Bank, Sean Jacobs, David Stiles, Dion Wilson y Ron Muhammed

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