(Intro: Ghostface Killah (El-P))
Yeah, nothin' but fly beats runnin' float
Around here and shit, about to pop off all (from outta
the robes, to the new world)
It's about to pop off, (Ghostface and Lazer Face
And you never this shit before) Hide ya face, yo
I told y'all niggaz it's about to pop (hide ya face)
Here we go, come on man, New York, we got y'all niggaz up top
(Fuck this, hide ya face) Hold me down, Brooklyn
(Ghostface Killah)
Yo, this is Ghostface/Theodore, I'm magically suspicious
Police try to get money, and sell my pictures
To the star ledger, (tell 'em), inquirin' minds wanna know
How Pretty Tone get robes as soft as snow
Where the bird go? That shit flew south for the winter
Why my piece hold the face, the size of plates at dinner
Was Masquerade a true story? What happened to the Clan?
Did I really dodge death? Am I true Ironman?
(El-P)
Yo, this is Lazer Face, El Produnctive funk, plus you'll dance this
I leg sweepin', runnin' man stance, with my commandment
Spit that, hardly arty, semi-retarded and grawnny
Ungodly stoppin' me, put holes in your body heat
Bang, avoid your imminent, fuck with coat hanger
That lick off, of the set of altercation without anger
Was that the shit you running with? Equip this with a pair of scissors
Cook coke with a Brooklyn word poet, with Tony, the Iron Wizard
(Chorus: El-P (Ghostface Killah))
You be lyin' to the fans on your tape (hide ya face)
Cuz radio don't play you, doesn't mean that you great
Baby, less talk and shit in my face (hide ya face)
Muthafucka, we hold the legendary breath that we take
You ridin' dirty when your man, had the plates (hide ya face)
Wear your seatbelt, and make sure to keep it light on the brakes
You been crafted by the United States (hide ya face)
You wind up gunnin' out a chopper, another man and his hate
Oh break... (hide ya face)
(Interlude: Ghostface Killah)
Oh shit, when the beat gon' drop?
Fuck it, I'm gonna get big money, here we go nigga
(El-P)
Embarresed her, bastard bet, the colamity, rap knowledge
Or fever, amonk liquids stickin' ya character
Plannin' obitueries, with a cralon cepter
Last of the unforgiven, spittin' insanity lectures
From where, from the era of the Dapper Dan tecture
I'm fully pullin' on loosy nukie, from the BK sector
Oh was that the shit you runnin' with? Yeah, bitch with a broken caraproder
The eyes on both, of the male room supervisor, of my last job
(Ghostface Killah)
Aiyo, it's Tony Starks, the Wallabee clarks, the fly minks
The first nigga to pop, them yellow bottles for drinks
Big links, only built for D. Coles, I peep hoes
You god damn right, I fuck fans, and get G. robes
And spinnach, bread like the Pillsbury dough
I got a red nose pick, with the high pro glow
My hydro flow? I got it locked, but y'all don't know
Watch when your enterprise go public, and Starks just blow
(Chorus)
|