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    [Ghostface Killah]
    Oh yeah, motherfucker
    It's real
    Y'all niggas hold your guns
    Throw your guns down, put 'em down

    Yo, we in the fields with heat
    You fake niggas eat kid meals to meat
    We street referees, we rock
    jean jackets, thick shirts over turtlenecks
    Certified doctors in hoods'll steal all your techs
    But wait, roll cameras, Babyface money blowin like beach nut
    Call off the mutts, it's me again
    Ghost, your host this evenin
    (Ladies and gents I'd like to thank you all for comin out tonite)
    Tucks tight, all sharp, light up a bark, let's mingle
    Fetch me a Remy Martin on Diamonds
    Flair-laided Gucci joints, I never wore
    I might give 'em to my brother-in-law
    Fitzpatrick, ribs battered, worth more than Egyptian marrows
    Borrow the God jewels, Gucci goggles
    That's how the God do, Motown twenty-five
    My office like Smokey's voice, little moist, but choice
    We guzzle Dom's, smoke the scratchy throats
    Live on the edge, bracelets, shades and classy coats
    Jungle in the club, we play Colombo
    Frost eat a snowman, frozen as the milky way
    Ice on the floor, El-Producto in the sleeve
    in the seam of his mink, he said "Don't drink"
    Think before he talked, he walked like he ordered
    Champ room down in Vegas, vendin machines
    I sip Alize' compliments of E&J

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    Chorus: 60 Second Assassin *singing* (Ghostface) x2

    The streets is rough out here
    Crack game came and had us years
    What is a man to do? (Brother)

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