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Ghostface
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Metal Lungies
作詞：Dennis Coles, Sean D Jacobs, Muhammad, David Styles, E Wilson
What these clown niggaz hollerin'?
What they need to be hollerin' is, 'There go Theodore'
Put the ball down, we can't score, they pen shit to blackboards
Make queens out of wack broads, you see us comin'?
Fuck that fam shit, just pass off you bitch
Crystal' Dana Dane's wrapped around your neck
Lookin' rich, bow, you fucked up now
See my gun, nigga? This baby got stuffed uptown
Shouted out, made a whole safe with the pump root pounds
My buddy, keep my gun right next to my tummy, ask the click
Yo they spit metal lungies, detach wigs, kill flunkies off contact
Son see, didn't your mommy tell y'all niggaz to wear clean undies?
See y'all should have listened to her, she knew her son had a big mouth
And some day death would occur, please for Ms. Gale's sake
And her seeds, pass the flurry, ain't fuckin' around
They knocked to her weave
Uh oh, word up, this still, what you talkin' 'bout, baby?
Real kids spit that shit
Let's go, let's go, let's go, yo, yeah
Me and Starks clear projects parks with our '93 shit, army coat green
And light tan Clarks, niggaz think I'm lucky, bitches wanna fuck me
And put me in the tub with them like I'm a rubber ducky
I got a revolver in the pump about the size of Chucky
I remember faces easy as I tie my laces
Here, put the metal in your mouth like you was rockin' braces
I spit an iron lungie, yeah I'm old school like the Iron Monkey
My shit powerful enough to lift a fuckin' donkey
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I got heavy chrome, niggaz don't care if you live to die
They happier than Marbury home, ya'll niggaz better kill me
My street niggaz feel me, louch gotta eat, ends gotta meet
The hard shit you kickin' 'bout is on beat as Tweet, this is Theodore
D-Block, the year adore, it's son who fall with the four, four, niggaz like
Uh oh, word up, this still, what you talkin' 'bout, baby?
Real kids spit that shit, yeah
Nigga, this is Ghost with Ghostface, I don't sell millions
But I get millions from the V's who smoke base
Somebody leavin' out with a poked face
Tone, you burnin' to kick his teeth out and swear don't catch no case
I'ma make you look like you smoke taste and we don't leave no trace
These rap niggaz swear that they so safe
I don't wanna talk to you holmes, I don't communicate
My guns, they in my hand, one in my palm
And I could dial your number like a smile off the face
With the H.K. 9, I'm the all black hummer
Metal lungies spit the grungiest shit
Hungriest shit, seventeen dummies a clip
Tell them rap niggaz to suck my dick, fuck the industry
And shift, shut down the store, bust my shit
I got some hustlin' ass niggaz that'll pump my bricks
And some dust head niggaz that'll dump my clips, what?
Uh oh, word up, this still, what you talkin' 'bout, baby?
Real kids spit that shit
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