Tony Sigel (feat. Beanie Sigel & Styles P) - Ghostface Killah, Styles P, Beanie Sigel

Yo, straight out the ghetto, I’m damn hood

I stack a dollar like a whole rack of canned goods

Baggy jeans, no Timbs, ACG boots

Livin' in the crack spot, bangin' that Sheek Louch

The narcotics is far from garbage

Whether it’s cold or it’s late August

My shit is fresh cuz I catch the hottest

My little cousin bubble swatches and carry a couple oxes

Keep a deuce deuce by his ankle and get it poppin'

You know, we be the boys clockin' the graveyard shift

Big bubbles, countin' the cream, burnin' the lazar spliff

My man jumps out the whip with the AR 5th

And we ball from plenties of parties, 'cause we start shit

Parole holes, six months in the box

My little sister got her head shaved off

She made it home from shock

We sellin cartons, Pampers, Similac formula

Anything you take because the paper keep callin ya

Gangsters keep ballin fosho, we want more

We make it rain from the tech and the wop

The next coroner priests don’t have enough cups for us

To slow us up, they hit us with dusk

Then they rush-bust, my man Big Ron will break the cuffs

300 pound nigga, po-po has to fuck him up

They say that my projects should undergo therapy

We never voted, we votin' for Oprah, Obama, and Eric B

Guns imported from Duval

Wheelchairs and shit bags

Peach Snapples and pretty scalpels, renaissance

I’ll stick a pick in ya gut at the chapel

I’ll blow a nigga for a box of Huggies

Cop-killers with a box of dummies

Dummies, stuck to the project floors

Niggas is suited up and we ready for war

It’s the Broad Street Bully and the Killah with no Face

My mac bullets burn like tequila with no chase, yeah!

My knife work like the guillotine sword, cutting niggas

Stop frontin' for my killa bee swarm, something

Empty out the whole clip and reload

Shotgun barrel leave it smoking like a broke stove

Yeah, and I’m all about that bullshit

The casket, the hearse, and the pastor in the pulpit

I kill a nigga at the drop of a dime

Just imagine what I’d do for a quarter

Ain’t no tellin what I’d do for a dollar

Pop a nigga right in front of his mama

Son a nigga right in front of his daughter

And I’m nothing like your father

You couldn’t come from these nuts I got

And C. Baltimore sucked this cock

I know most of y’all wouldn’t understand

Get it?

Understand?

Yeah some niggas will and some niggas won’t

Like some niggas kill and some niggas don’t (uh-uh)

You’s a fake-it-'til-you-make-it of nigga

I’m a straight-up-take-it type of nigga

Pistol-whip-a-nigga-'til-I-break-it type of nigga

I’m hard on chumps, most of these dudes is fags

Put the guarder on pumps, push the broom up they ass

Or the knife like American me, American Sig' is Muslim

So I ain’t feelin Bush overseas

I think with the wisdom of Malcolm, got the soul of a Panther

So by any means is the anthem

You gonna have to cut me out the track like cancer

I can’t stop, won’t stop

This how we do it from Philly to Shaolin