man up lyrics – ghostface killah

[intro: ghostface killah (trife da god)]
where the dj’s at? (yeah) that’s right
what’s the deal y’all? (theodore, n*gg*)
theodore’s in the building, staten island stand up
(that’s right, gatten island) word up
(i’m like ray charles, n*gg*
pay me my motherf*ckin’ bread in singles)
that’s what i’m try’nna tell ya, it’s real
(heard me) big tone starks in the building, now, come on
[chorus 2x: trife da god (solomon childs)]
(man up) somebody gon’ get laid down
(man up) whether music or four pounds
(man up) ain’t no need to know me well
we can get the drama popping, homey, i won’t tell
[trife da god]
this is my year, eating like a baby in a high chair
fly gear, versace eye wear, we the pioneers
i f*ck b*tches sipping on dry beer
only rock timbs and air forces, yo, oc’, give me like 5 years
fresh out the box with it, chicago sox fitted
uh, if the product is banging, first hit the block with it
set the drug charges and my criminal formula
o-5 black suburban straight from general motors
walk through give the n*gg*z the shoulder
just f*cked this b*tch on the sofa
twisted the chocha, me’ll flip on the culture
had the bird n*gg*z sh*ttin’ in peels, clippin’ your tail
let the four-five kiss ya, as i’m liftin’ your bail
put a hundred wolves on you, have them pick up the trail
while i’m in the honeycomb, weighing bricks on the scale
sippin’ old m.a., me and my protege’s, cause even on the coldest day
your boy stil shine, giving off solar rays
[chorus 2x]
[ghostface killah]
what you know about stepping out heavy, just’ jewels, no crew hurry
my inside pants leg, i’m packing like two machetes
one ratchet, two gloves and a mask
jumping out of green rover, n*gg*z ballin’ me down
that’s when i reached over, figured they ain’t go no matters
young boys round here, they don’t know my status
and n*gg*z looking for a full time jack move
but they don’t know, that these blades here, crack dudes
give it to ’em quick, something like fast food
take a n*gg* gun, like ‘you gonna blast who?’
cinderella girl frontin’ in them gl*ss shoes
h*m* thug b*tch *ss n*gg*, i’ll smash you
you mad, cause you rockin’ the sh*t bag
smellin’ like p*ss, when it popped your click ran
you f*cking with powerful n*gg*z, devour your business
it ain’t gravy, you p*ssy n*gg*z, you the avon lady, f*ck you
[chorus 2x]
[sun god]
n*gg*z better stay in they place
cuz when i stash the plastic mask on, leave a hole in your face
who this young dude holding the weight
got every drug from dope to bud, even small package your face
n*gg*z bam, look god in the face, can’t look in my eyes
i tell you why, cause this thing on my waist
bread and b*tter, got it all for sale, and i’m duckin’ the cops
on every block, i ain’t going to jail
i ain’t the type that’ll rot in the cell
never talk or fist fight, with drama, i’ll be popping these sh*lls
hit your chest and your flesh get, hotter than h*ll
them hollow tips make it hard to inhale, you not worthy
vest and a white tees, and throwback jerseys
julius irvings, black suburban
twisted off one-five-one, my whips swerving
try’nna see that chips, full clips, no splurging
[chorus 2x]
[outro: ghostface killah]
that’s right, yeah, another theodore production
yeah, anthony acid on the beats, y’all
ones and twos y’all, yeah, that’s right
big ghost in the building, staten island in the mother-f’ing building
n*gg*, yeah, man up, b*tch…

/ ghostface killah lyrics