yolanda’s house lyrics – ghostface killah

yeah yo, i’m skinned up, nike’s is scuffed
still buggin’ earlier around four, how i escaped the bust?
the way i fell, cracked the face of my watch
my man’s chantin’ me on like, “run son, don’t go up in the spot”

jettin’ through bushes and backyards, neighbors is rattin’ me out
dogs is barkin’, all you hear is the car’s sirens
i’m tryin’ to think and toss the iron
bomb in my sweats got me runnin’, funny, you think i’m lyin’

may god strike me if he don’t like me, i’m tired and i’m out of breath
the weed got me paranoid, my heart’s poundin’ through my chest
tryin’ to focus up and make progress
that’s what i get for slingin’ in them projects

next thing you know, i’m in this b*tch’s crib chillin’
told her my story and like this, i had her legs in the ceiling
cookin’ me fried fish sticks, hot side of them biscuits
while she doin’ this, the b*tch still slidin’ on lipstick

now i got the fat stomach on, she crackin’ a dutch
i’m playin’ with her p*ssy on the couch, i’m ready to f*ck
like, come here miss lady wop, where you put the condom box?
she finished off the last one, oh sh*t, i hear the cops

handcuffs and talkies, i mashed her white yorkie
jettin’ up the stairs, them pigs want revenge like porky’s
so i slid, hid behind the wall, opened the door
like, ooh, i seen my man, meth goin’ in raw
so he jumped up, b*lls out, hid in the closet
i’m dyin’ laughin’, he said “yo starks be quiet”

now, let me put my drawers on, n*gg* what kinda dope you on?
should’ve knocked before you came in the spot
ghost you wrong bustin’ in here on the government sh*t
got this chick screamin’, grabbin the sheets, tryin’ to cover her t*ts

she’s asthmatic and you laughin’ son
i b*mp my toe on the nightstand just runnin’, tryin’ to grab the gun
sh*t’s real man, you spazzin’ dun
there comes a time in a man’s life, he gotta toss his pack and run
you know we family like crack and pun

but mr. jfk, state your business after that be one
now can it be that you hot lord?
you did some sh*t on the block that the cops tryin to lock you for?
can’t believe you blowin’ the spot lord

my chick is buggin’, she trippin’
my d*ck keep slippin’ out my boxer drawers
now i’m caught up in the drug sting
n*gg*s is callin’ my h*rn, police is h*ttin’ every corner we on

can’t understand it, it’s a thug thing
and in the moment of thought
i’m interrupted by shallah raekwon

i need my money meth, gonna buy them hundred birds
tell tone, get at me, all them little clients want work
he know we fresh out, tell the kid meet me, matter of fact beep me
word to mother, lord, son he got me hurt

you still f*ckin’ shorty? i knew it
the big mouth broad that be yolkin’ my b*lls out
her little brother wanted two bricks
you know the n*gg* licks, a maybach on twenty six
all he do is get money, hustle, he’s a d*ck

he told me foul sh*t, wild sh*t
that n*gg* wear a lot of loud sh*t, no, that steve rifkind style sh*t
hit me with some other talk, him in new york
they robbed the venezuelan n*gg*s, stabbed his son with a fork

that was jesus’ rooster’s little niece, little nooses
father’s homeboy, that’s the kid who gave us a boost
he gave them things on the arm, said for us to be calm
and if some beef pop off, go ahead and ring the alarm, c’mon

/ ghostface killah lyrics