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Ghostface Killah f Raekwon the Chef

Ironman/Sunset Park Soundtrack *

279 3 часа назад

Текст песни Ghostface Killah f Raekwon the Chef - Ironman/Sunset Park Soundtrack *

Ghostface Killah f Raekwon the Chef - Ironman/Sunset Park Soundtrack * слова песни

* billed as Ghostface Killer instead of Ghostface Killah[Sometimes I feel... like a motherless child](Yo yo guzzlin forties, let`s get it on fella, no doubt)The wiley Wu-Tang comes back, Iron Man strikes back(Lou Diamonds, Tony Starks) Raid your whole empireNo doubt![Verse One: Raekwon the Chef]Rich man, poor man, read the headlinesNigga getting murdered for spot and bigger dimesJobs and drug warsLiving by gun lawJailcats come home and want to take yoursAs the young one, growing up broke me and my peopleas the self, huh, I guess we all in the same boatThink it, plus drinkin that 90-proofPlayin` on the roof sayin`we need a next man to shoot...[Sometimes I feel, like a motherless child...][Verse Two: Ghostface Killah]Yo, I know a rich kid, who got hit for three bricksShowin off his 850 plus, what a nice whipYoung blood guzzlin` fourties hussled in a rainOld Earth, shootin` dope in her veins He never had it all, the kid loved basketballHad a favorite song, "I Miss You" written by Aaron HallNow back to the original, neighborhood, criminalsClocking dollars, by the hour like his digitalStyrofoam silencers, he rolled around with theWildest niggaz peeling caps known as the Islandersfrom Staten, where crazy clips be clappinSlept in his principal spreads, threads, made of satinLabeled as the cow he had crazy beefSeen him at the flicks, he pulled out on Duke, Hez and LatiefBut he fucked up, he shoulda kept it real and went for killcuz if he don`t, these niggaz with black barrels willBut, shit will never calm down, one day downtownHe dropped an ounce off Money had slept like a nightgownHe rolled up in the Albee Square, relax like he lived in thereTwo kids was beamin him, them niggaz from the movie theatreOne had all Guess on, lookin like he had a vest onThe other felly pell tucked with a firearmMovin slow, baseball hats, crazy down lowWord life God, this bull kag nigga gotta goOh shit! Bookhead, just bought a 5, G headed King TudpeaAbout the size of Little MauriceWe got to get up baby, no cousin, count to tenI`m runnin in my first instance, is to return em the time is nowWarfare and pull delfRemember me, the nigga from the UA and you pulled outDon`t move don`t even flinchFix em up, drop the head, don`t want to get blood in the tuxHe burped, I shot him, bitch screamed out I`m robbin himHad to hit him ten more times make sure I got himTold the owner lay on the floor, shake the comedyRandy came out wacked out with a half a shottyI laughed, grab the King Tud head and the cashThen he shot my man in the ass and broke mega glassDamn, had to go out with a blastI shot my way up out of the Albee fast[Sometimes I feel, like a motherless child]Oh shit, what the fuck?This shit is horrible.

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