Comin' For Ya Head

[Intro: Sheek Louch (Ghostface Killah)] I mean yeah, nigga! It's feeding time! It's getting warm outside, these niggas, like to put they earrings in, and pull they chains out and shit (Put the bibs on these niggas!) Let's go! [Sheek Louch] Nah, you don't roll enough Louis duffle bag don't hold enough Drinking the brown liquor for both of us Rose on table, Jesus head with the cable Gun shots is fatal, my bars is prenatal I kill little niggas, up close, peel little niggas We the hottest out, still, little niggas I'm better in my prime Spitting harder, looking better than ya'll little niggas And I done been here a dime Your opinion didn't matter since Big heard me rhyme Little nigga and Puff, or caught a spot with a nine Hand all sticky, my tires is all Mickey She kissing on my neck, I'm too black for a hickey I'm still down with Kobe, got a feeling he could make it If Miami and Oklahoma don't take it Your face found up, like I won't come there and break it Jake the Snake and hatchet, can't Crystal Lake it [Ghostface Killah] Most of my goons is bow-legged, bald head niggas From Syracuse, four-fifths, gold plated Doing lines off coffee tables in the Waldorf Nose red, walk into to the bathroom, door off My man said I went raw last night Heard I slid up in a whore last night Still saucy, I plead the fifth, six G's I sniffed If I sneeze, the left side of my nose might rip Dark skin, hunchback killing machines You eat seal meat, dick stay up for a fucking week Attending brutal rap battles in Zaire I heard "Toney, Boombaye!" from the crowd, yeah My man head ice, luck smooth right there Blood diamonds sitting real chunky in my right ear Killas, skin your ass with no contracts And little niggas got nowhere to hide but the projects [Hook: Sheek Louch] I just woke up, I got money on my mind Grab my nine from underneath the bed I put my vest on, smoke something Cock my gun back, make sure it's filled up with lead I'm coming for your head, I'm coming for your head I'm coming for your head, yup, yup I'm coming for your head, I'm coming for your head I'm coming for your head, yeah [Styles P] Ralph Ellison, invisible man, vanishing Come back like Arizona Ron, speaking Spanish And you're panicking, oughta stay still like a mannequin Dark side like Darth, yeah, young Anakin Skywalker, fly talker, rhyme even better though Salute them niggas that died, those with a federal Charge yo, Incarcerated Scarface, yard flow Polo overalls, short set, son of Mars, though Probably in the crib, getting high, watching Fargo A lady cop and some hit men I quarterback the coke like Big Ben To a bunch of a dirty niggas like Pig Pen No Charlie Brown, though, pump in the pound, though Coming for your head, I run your ass out of town, yo This is Sheek Louch, Ghostface Killah And the other Ghost, you can fuck around and get your mother poked [Raekwon] Bees wax all in the spinners, most of my killas is winners Hiding in Stevie glasses in Venice Blast first, drop the burner and burst Burgundy blood, fell out the thug, he got trapped by a team curse I'm more relentless, aiming a strap, from off the benches Hit you from right field, intensely Your money ain't long, your money is gone Your money mine now, homeboy, now run to your moms Sorry gangstas get thrown in the hole We chilling in the Trump Towers, onions and soul Let's roll, cuz when the clock hit, my niggas'll bowl It's like dice, nigga, open the hole Fisters on the get go, silk shirts, this is how the click roll Strong hammers, doofy like Klitschko And where your bitch go? Surrounded by the rich, yo Power mitts and bricks, yo, what [Hook]