[intro: ghostface killah]
aiyo, ghost, what’s up n*gg*?
this “supreme” talkin’ to you and sh*t
you caught me all the way in staten island to see you
beat the two minute and thirty seven second clock
suprise: time started already, m*th*f*cka
say that sh*t, n*gg*
i’mma say it, don’t get mad, y’all, i throw my darts sideways
shoot ’em up, bang, bang, through me baby
lovely lady, f*ck the spades, drive the kid crazy
before i go to bed, an hour later
people be talkin’, i feed dolphins
my defense’ll fly the coop off your mean office
my skills is a fortune, robbin’ leech out a suite auction
teach then fall off the greatest, f*ck what they say
cuz we against the abortions, and we
lay low-oh-oh, silent those clowin’ foes
got them clothes for his new feud in the road
we them fat albert, spot runnin’ ’86 crack viles and pictures
lookin’ all suspicous, i’m out.
[interlude: ghostface killah]
aiyo, hold up! what the f*ck you stop for?
(i got somethin’ in my–) nah, you can’t be stoppin’, g
what the f*ck you ain’t got — aiyo, you buggin’ and sh*t
son, you gotta hurry the f*ck up
time is runnin’ n*gg*, come! what the f*ck?
i work magic out of liquor store
give me a dollar and i turn that b*tch into five
and all i need is one more, to get things started
get r*t*rded, and once you — i’mma fix these artists
take ’em one by one, tie ’em up, line ’em up
treat ’em like a cigar, fire them n*gg*z up
they be up in the club, six/three tree’d up
with them young ‘keds with their gear all beat up
this is how i’mma kill ’em with four lines left
hold your breath, say my name five times it’s take’s practice, yo
decap’ him with sayin’ my name, it’s like matches, yo
it’s time to f*ck up on account in a house, or blow
[interlude: ghostface killah]
na-na-na-na-na, nah, nah, f*ck that four-line sh*t
you cheatin’ and sh*t, i ain’t come here for all that
(i’m tired, though lord, what the f*ck)
what you mean you tired and sh*t, g?
you suppose to be that n*gg*, n*gg* then show me
if you that n*gg*! then show me, n*gg*!
i hold a mic like i’m gail sails
hoppin’ over chairs like o.j., my rushin’ yards
them pen, how the meter spray
happy wife-beater day, don’t touch my, cheeba hay
get off my d-i, then go c the k’s (case)
‘scuse me mr. d.j., please play “fish”
or that “cherchez”, live meeting, ten four, may day-may day
callin’ all cars, callin’ all cars
we have an apb on starks and trife the god
we left the jewelry store, feelin’ like we left the morgue
we was frozen, and i brought an iced out trojan
that’s for p*ss*es whose golden, who got toney wide open
i put my ring up to my man’s waves and seen an ocean
move like a wolf, kid, in sheep’s clothing
snatch the money bag off the milk truck and kept boating
i be potent like ibuprofen, i be coastin’
with two shotties on me, in your grimiest lobby smokin’
[outro: ghostface killah]
this m*th*f*cka made the clock!
mutha– where the f*ck?
yo, you be cheatin’, m*th*-, you be cheatin’
that’s that staten island, bullsh*t
theodore… you know you might be a ghost
but you ain’t houdini, m*th*f*cka!