» » »

Biscuits Lyrics

Biscuits by Ghostface Killah  

CD  ·  DVD  ·  Sheet music


Biscuits [Intro: Ghostface Killah]
Yo... who the f**k brought me this chocolate sh*t, man?
I said a banana nutriment, man
Ya'll heard the f**k I said... I gave you.
I wrote it on the f**kin' paper, man
Ya'll muthaf**kas always f**k around and forgettin' something and sh*t
Smart dumb niggaz and sh*t, runnin' around here and sh*t
Ya'll niggaz need to wisen up, man, yo..
f**k that special ed, sh*t

[Ghostface Killah]
I said Big O, hydro-face, pass me the sazone, it's on
There go son, tap out the hash bone
Half moon, he rock, three's fourth quarter length
No jewels, no rocks, it's not worth the spotlight
His gun tool, was a half a hill
That's a six digit slip behind five sticks, eatin' steel, f**k him
We gon' -- we gon' get our money
If he front, they gon' read about the rocks in his tummy
Mouth was red, socks was bloody, f**k all the talkin'
Safety off and sh*t, crept out, "What up money? Freeze!"
Don't move, turn around, act like James Brown
And get down! Get slapped with the put down
Wasn't you the same clown? Uptown, yappin'
I keep big Shirley on my side, so What's Happenin'?
Try eatin' these shells, they non fattening
After you digest gat, I'mma stomp you bastards
So take that.. blaow, blaow! Ghost, he still breathing
Blaow, blaow! Anything after that it don't matter
Your homies and your close relatives
Even them nosy ass pigs'll get splattered
It's the TH-EO-DORE, send me to Iraq I come back with don heat
Teeth, less than a week, they be callin' me
Keep with the fists, cuz I sure do cook when it's beef

[Chorus: Ghostface Killah]
Yo, what up? Meet, these, O.G.'s, quote these and
Baller' sh*t, long biscuits
f**k around, take all your sh*t
Call your bluff, y'all faggots don't want no beef
Grind your teeth, and just, roll with it, don't risk it
f**k around, and be a statistic

[Trife]
Yo, yo, niggaz ask why I use my glock
Cuz it's 2003, muthaf**ka, I refuse to box
I'm true to block, strip you for your shoes and socks
Remove your watch, yo I'mma have to lose your top
I'm from a place where chunkheads and zombies dwell
And niggaz keep they heat blazin' like laundry wells
Don't ever talk to a nigga like I'm one of your kids
Cuz I'll cock back the mag and pop one in your ribs
So homeboy, keep runnin' your jibs, I'mma run in your crib
Pistol whip you right in front of your wiz
My nigga, that's how it is, I get it, just how I live
Cuz me without a gun, is like Queens without the bridge
Classic cut, this is how a O.G. live
Lamp in village, and still get heard with no spins
This is Trife Diesel, New York's backbone, back home
Black blown, it's Theodore, nigga, f**k your wack stones

[Chorus 2X]

[Outro: Ghostface Killah]
That's right, it's real!
It's that muthaf**kin' Theodore Unit
Nahwhatimean? Staten Island, live sh*t, y'all
Straight up and down, nothin' but that cutthroat sh*t
Blowin' niggaz back home, you know what I mean?
I don't give a f**k... we could take it there
Whatever, peace, we got him nigga
Yeah, now I'mma strangle it there
No doubt, it's real right now, muthaf**ka
Ya'll niggaz done done it, f**k y'all yeah
I'mma get the f**k outta this booth



CD  ·  DVD  ·  Sheet music
Comments

comments powered by Disqus