Ghostface Killah - 9 Milli Bros. - Tekst piosenki, lyrics - teksciki.pl

28.03.2006

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Rap

Tekst piosenki
[Intro: RZA] Bob Digi, U G.O.D, Raekwon the Chef, the Inspectah Deck M.E.T.H.O.D., the B.O.B.B., Straight up, Masta Killa, the GZA/The Genius It's the Ol' d-d-d- d-d-d- d-d-Dirty Bastard! [ODB] 1, 2, 1, 2, (Killa Beez) turn it up The headphones, turn it up.. yo you hear me? [Cappa] Whattup Tony? [Ghost] Wassup don-don? [ODB] All the way up... [Ghost] You know how we do... [Cappa] Let's get this paper together... [Ghost] You motherfuckin' right Pa, uh huh [Cappa] What's up, y'all? [Ghost] We wanna do it nigga [ODB] You know how I do... [Ghost] Sound about to go in on some real Wu shit, uh huh [Cappa] W-T-C [Ghost] That's right [Ghost] Ya know what I mean? [RZA] GHOST-FACE KILLAH! [Ghost] Lemme give y'all the bullshit hook for y'all niggas Check it out... [Hook: Ghostface Killah] The burners and the stash, we 'bout the cash We got females that got it like that The golden childs that bone the crowd See, niggas in the place that bit my style Well, I'm a singer, dancer, we bulletproof brothers Wu-Tang got the answer Cause if I had a chance to do it again I will still keep the heat in my pants-uh [Verse 1: Ghostface Killah] Y'all be nice to the crackheads, everybody listen up I shot one of my bitches, the ho ain't trick enough Word life to big screen Don, tapping dustbones out With starwriters like I fucked Celine Dion Stuck everything that's the god's honest beyond We airin' niggas out, that's the type shit that we on Official Wu-Tang headbanger Flood your space with big waves like you did in Sri Lanka [Verse 2: Raekwon] I drink heavy gallons of cru, play the big part Niggas got squid on the grill, selling kids Clarks Finesse notes, yo, the Guess on with the vest pose Yellow swede one matching hat with the grey gun Niggas be rhymin' for nothing, then my team pull up We all throw down y'all broke niggas stay frontin' Lines come digital stupid, plus ain't got no jewelry on Bet I'm still live and I'm coopin' Two of my silverbacks run through a pack of your wolves Front on react, we're sippin' Cognac [?] relax dude Know I'm with these cracks dude [Verse 3: Ol' Dirty Bastard] Yo, 1-2, Dirt McGirt Solid tone smith with 6th shots, lick shots Leave your head like a Shaolin monk with 6 dots Brooklyn Zoo, Zoo Brooklyn Zoo [Verse 4: Cappadonna] It's the return of Bin Laden, grab your armor Smash pretty boy niggas, crush their karma Eat bones with alligators, roll deep with my entourage My whole crew's fresh out the bars Diggler AKA the Cab Driver Drop him off in the middle of fire Dirty Island, drag bodies to the Murderland Knock niggas out hurtin' my hand [Verse 5: Method Man] I remember in the elevator we was playin' corners Now we play the corners and the cops is stayin' on us Staten's where the war is, where the court system's Running out of warrants, where TNT be jumping out the Taurus For real I can't call it, you see I love Lucy cuz she lawless Exactly like that 10304 is Snitch niggas swallow your tongue, already know The island I'm from and y'all don't want no problems with them [Verse 6: GZA] We got a history full of lightning victories Conceptual breakthrough, it ain't no mystery Long vision from giants in every way Rap czars, magnificent flows for every day From the East to the 'ville, from the West to the hills Incredible rhymes, encouraging skills From rat packs, the smallest crews were enormous We hit 'em fast with an effortless performance MCs start fleeing in flocks Especially those that's more sensitive to heat and shock [Verse 6: Inspectah Deck] We grindin' down to the bone, my name grounded in stone I'm Mr. Violence we loungin' with chrome Mr. Violence we lounge in his home, hit the housing on Rome Shining like a hundred thousand in stones Move mountains with poems, got a jones for dinero 1-6-zero my songs we throwin' elbows The hoes cling, sho thing, we know kings Only dime dikes with minds right, we choose Queens [Verse 7: Masta Killa] Yeah, we wild like rockstars who smash guitars Yo son split his face with the toast, he ain't ghost It's no joke iron coat rifle with the stroke One toke brains float, shot to the throat Before the smoke hit, witness the killing, chilling crime scene Body on the block, eyes open from the shock Of being popped in the neck Yet he still held a lit cigarette between his fingers Danger when you step into the chamber with the Masta Disaster, gotta blast ya cause I have to [Verse 8: U-God] The rat pack is back from the island of Stat' Leave you cursed dust, cause you worship the Gat The first one to snap drunk off the Smirnoff Blow the bouncer's ear off, let him floss he the boss Handcuffed, to the turntables like Wizard Theodore See it's pure, let it rain pearly ounces Bang him with the thing that hang from the trousers You don't want no drama, I'm flaming fast That nigga jumped up and did the Damon Dash
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