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Black Out Lyrics

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Black Out

 
Ghostface Killah, M.O.P & Pharoahe Monch Lyrics
CD  ·  DVD  ·  Sheet music

Black Out [Ghostface Killah]
Yeah, yo, aiyo these duffel bag niggas is lame hoes, I flame those
Your papa should of left you a stain on clothes
I rock heavy metal, eighteen karats or better
Blue steel or Beretta, I'mma stack that feta
Guacamole, my sh*t is fat, I call it rolly polly
Niggas is screaming like "There goes Tony, moly!"
The baddest b**ches walking two steps behind me
Cuz the God's robes flaring out, sh*t I don't care about
One false move on the kid, I'm airing out
Dumping, pellets be hop, skipping and jumping
With the automatic shotgun, hand on the pumping
Dung-dung! Watch your whole body flop
And wild the f**k out, I'm like a bull in a China shop
Beastie, I can walk on cut glass, I bust ass
Niggas better cover they face or get slashed
Or see me and your granny in your yard, getting trashed

[Chorus 2X: Solomon Childs]
Aiyo, back out, give 'em the whole thing, black out
Squeezin' til it's spring break, nigga, black out
You run out of bullets, just swing, nigga, black out
Don't give a f**k about a thing, nigga, black out

[Lil' Fame]
I chant warrior's songs for all my warriors gone
Spilled the blood, sweat and tears, ya'll just call it a song
Yes I'm, highly explosive, yes I'm, something ferocious
Niggas f**king with my nerves like multiple sclerosis
What time, and you get your food ate, give 'em a buck and a half
Across the face, and scr*pe the plate
I'll lift your muthaf**kin' hood up, like a mechanic
And leave you layin' for life, in your hammock, God damn it
This is marksmen

[Billy Danze]
My niggas is prone to black out
Double handed out the Chevrolet, until it maxs out
Mo P's is g's, these niggas tap out
Buck-a-buck-buck-buck-buck-buck-buck, push your back out
If you don't know what that's bout, pack up and stab out
Make a decision or deal with conditions, when I spaz out
Unload, reload, unload, reload
Hand 'em a couple more, and keep a couple for the road

[Chorus 2X]

[Pharoahe Monch]
Pull out the ratchet, this is not rap
The rap sh*t is liver then Superfly saliva when the Mack spit
That, raat, tip-tip-tip-tip-tip tap sh*t
That you cannot stick to landing like Gaby Douglas when you back flip
My hammer dance that make you niggas do the running man
Seventy seven blackout, Berkowitz, Son of Sam
Understand what you working with is word perfect
The earth surface is profilic circuit, breaker-breaker circuits
Enter your information, we blacks out
Spontaneous combustion, instantaneous identification
Pop your melon like Gallagher, you won't survive
Psychopath with a silencer, my caliber is forty five
Tumultuous tragedy, infamous, infamy
These agree the statistics, will increase exponentially
Potentially, my brain is probably twisted
This auto shotty lifted your body and dropped it like a molly kid sh*t

[Chorus 2X]
CD  ·  DVD  ·  Sheet music
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