Party Over Here - Ghostface Killah

Haha, yeah

Tony Stark, nigga

I ain’t going nowhere (Yeah)

Y’all feel me?

We about to finish this al', dawg (Uh-huh)

Tell 'em, Tone Tone (It's the beginning)

Yo, yo, yo

Yo

The old lady said the shooter was 5'6″

And she don’t know how he got away with five of them bricks

Across the street, a group of men held nine sticks

Those is choppers being sprayed, and all of em' missed, uh

Lil' bro got away with it

He promised me four of them joints if I stayed with him, uh

What the fuck y’all think?

I wasn’t born with a slit between my legs with a hole that’s pink?

Nah, I’m a gangster, besides getting paper

I move my pawns, fuck around and get rook

Besides that, any jux session

Deny me for any stones in your skin, you get cooked

Haha, blood spillin' like lava

Face on the hot concrete, no agua

Nasty killer with horror

You wasn’t even the main entree, how’s that for a starter?

(Party over here)

I’m talking like it’s about to get deadly, we stay getting ready

(Party over here)

Staten Island stay stylin', boy, turn off the lights like Teddy

(Party over here)

More paper, hoes that’s swallowing 'scato on the late tip

(Party over here)

Don’t you dare run, nigga, just hand over the goods, or we’ll take it

Bottle after bottle, Remy dark, Goose, Moscato

Threw the club into gear full throttle

Players on one side, killers on the other

Hoes in the middle, plus it’s jam-packed, flooded

Sweating through my silk, real life, I might tuck it

Mad hoes, got 'em on the string like a puppet

Party over here, lil' niggas stepped on my kicks without sayin' pardon over here

Two of my goons seen it, followed him over there

Came back with whatever that fuckboy had in his ear

Neck, chest, wrists, he couldn’t persevere

Pat Riley on his neck, gave up the jewels like, «Here»

Nickel-plated bulldogs, 12-inch Rugers and long leathers

To pluck any bird nigga feather

Staten Island, we get ours regardless

Don’t forget, we do the pressin', y’all just press charges

(Party over here)

I’m talking like it’s about to get deadly, we stay getting ready

(Party over here)

Staten Island stay stylin', boy, turn off the lights like Teddy

(Party over here)

More paper, hoes that’s swallowing 'scato on the late tip

(Party over here)

Don’t you dare run, nigga, just hand over the goods, or we’ll take it