Solomon Childs
Solomon Childs - Smooth Sailing lyrics
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[Ghostface Killah:] Yo, behind those mahogany walls Indoor pools with steel doors, flipping eggs over in my silk drawers While I"m charging my cell, sparking the L Baby mother reading my mail, just that they switched seats To another jail, and his banger is old fire He's locked up with them dudes from the fucking Wire That's when I passed her the bone, started to cough And flossed all through the house, robe on, ruger out Homebuyers see the sign, yeah ya'll, I'm moving out In front of the crib, niggas flipped, I had to shoot it out Thirty G, living room sets, porcelain plates With big giant wall units, even the front grass Saw your boy doing it, Tone Stark he'll never fall I even put work in, under the floor In the box with the ox, and my skeleton jaw Tell 'em soldiers I'm in the bush if the President call [Chorus: Solomon Childs] Get 'em, the'll be nothing but smooth sailing When the heat shot, now your crew's bailing I refuse to bow down, refuse to lay down Go five and turn, to let the biz, all I found [Solomon Childs:] Where the fuck is the kids crown? Lady luck breathing all over the dikes With 745 airlines, the color of Cajun rice This the passion of Christ, done seen it and felt it all Til rats shit in my boots, like how the fuck the rats get in my boots A brown metal that sizzles, wrap up more dead meat then riddles Injuries that have you missing more games than Kerry Kittles There's a war going on outside, you hear the fiddles? And you so called 'units', go 'head and jump And get your body severed apart with pumps [Trife Diesel:] Aiyo, watch who you talk around, cause ya'll seen niggas snitching And they quick to turn on you like keys in the ignition Niggas start submitting, when them slugs is spitting And believe me, that shit'll hurt like when your drugs is missing Yo, these bullets ain't thug resistant, and they see a nigga dying Choking off his own blood is sickening Picture that, now picture this, picture me running in your lab Like Allen Iverson waving the fifth But this ain't no domestic dispute, go 'head and get cute Force my hand, and see if I'm connected with loot Somebody gon' find your body on the stitching of the roof The art of gunplay, I stay perfected when I shoot And this ain't a lottery, but ya'll dudes can 'take seven' The slugs'll have your ass 'burning up' like Faith Evans Facial expressions change when you're facing that weapon Nigga, your ass gon' die, try to escape within sessions