Ghostface Killah

Ghostface Killah - Motherless Child lyrics

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* originally appear on the Sunset Park soundtrack
 [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 empire
 No doubt!

 Verse One: Raekwon the Chef  AKA Lou Diamonds

 Rich man  poor man  read the headlines
 Nigga getting murdered for spot and bigger dimes
 Jobs and drug wars
 Living by gun law
 Jailcats come home and want to take yours
 As the young one, growing up broke me and my people
 as the self, huh, I guess we all in the same boat
 Think it, plus drinkin that 90-proof
 Playin' on the roof sayin'
 we need a next man to shoot...

 [Sometimes I feel, like a motherless child...]

 Verse Two: Ghostface Killer, AKA Tony Starks

 Yo, I know a rich kid, who got hit for three bricks
 Showin off his 850 plus, what a nice whip
 Young blood guzzlin' fourties hussled in a rain
 Old Earth, shootin' dope in her veins
 He never had it all, the kid loved basketball
 Had a favorite song, "I Miss You" written by Aaron Hall
 Now back to the original, neighborhood, criminals
 Clocking dollars, by the hour like his digital
 Styrofoam silencers, he rolled around with the
 Wildest niggaz peeling caps known as the Islanders
 from Staten, where crazy clips be clappin
 Slept in his principal spreads, threads, made of satin
 Labeled as the cow he had crazy beef
 Seen him at the flicks, he pulled out on Duke, Hez and Latief
 But he fucked up, he shoulda kept it real and went for kill
 cuz if he don't, these niggaz with black barrels will
 But, shit will never calm down, one day downtown
 He dropped an ounce off
 Money had slept like a nightgown
 He rolled up in the Albee Square, relax like he lived in there
 Two kids was beamin him, them niggaz from the movie theatre
 One had all Guess on, lookin like he had a vest on
 The other felly pell tucked with a firearm
 Movin slow, baseball hats, crazy down low
 Word life God, this bull kag nigga gotta go
 Oh shit! Bookhead, just bought a 5, G headed King Tudpea
 About the size of Little Maurice
 We got to get up baby, no cousin, count to ten
 I'm runnin in my first instance, is to return em the time is now
 Warfare and pull delf
 Remember me, the nigga from the UA and you pulled out
 Don't move don't even flinch
 Fix em up, drop the head, don't want to get blood in the tux
 He burped, I shot him, bitch screamed out I'm robbin him
 Had to hit him ten more times make sure I got him
 Told the owner lay on the floor, shake the comedy
 Randy came out wacked out with a half a shotty
 I laughed, grab the King Tud head and the cash
 Then he shot my man in the ass and broke mega glass
 Damn, had to go out with a blast
 I 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
Get this song at:
bol.com
amazon.com

Copyrights:

Author: ?

Composer: ?

Publisher: Sony Music Entertainment Inc

Details:

Released in: 1996

Language: English

Appearing on: Ironman (1996)

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