Ghostface Killah

Ghostface Killah - Box In Hand Remix songtekst

Je score:

Verse One: Ghostface Killah
 It's how this flava crops
 No doubt
 The beer champ
 Yeah  curly head kid
 Yo  yo  yo

 From Gators to blazers  low fades and razors
 The big dick saloon I contact the one
 the black asian
 Which location keeps circulating
 I want the twin power after day shit on his mason
 A God steam represent the gummy with the green
 who walk fiend stand up on your block and burn a bean
 Sir Valentine looking at that shit by behind
 the thing thats fucked up appeal us that's wine
 They turn around take my last pull off the L
 these niggas on the block keep looking at me well
 But they want the jewel it ain't hard to tell
 I recognized his face he had Kani then fell
 But fuck him, I went to check low for chop
 on a ball gone the size like faith up top
 Now it's a whole new ball game, strategic mind frame
 My dialogue's rebellious raid and razor fame
 Glass out a red light, see Killah get on a ninja bike
 Show my love to the God he peeled out and made a right
 **Sound of speeding motorcycle**

 Chorus:

 When you walking down the street with your - Box in your hand
 and you bringing the music of the - Wu-Tang Clan
 And you get high and bent on your - radio rapping
 Your feet start the dancing and your - hands start the clapping

 Verse Two: Street

 Street's running through your dancehall gunning
 like Lee Harvey Oswald stunning slapping MC's with summons
 for pumping - that watered down substance
 Beef there's slugs finger creeping
 making moves like Crying Freeman
 Prince of thieves, earth earth seed
 heavyweight like golden fleeces homicides stroll the street
 If Luther preached it, look at the thugs holding heat
 In the city beef got me plotting trilogy
 To the smoke enemies sneak attacks I'm beyond and above that
 Seen that done that, respect black
 I catch a slug to your hardhat
 lounging in the everglades, surfing the airwave
 Catch a buck fifty where the razorblades swiftly
 Shaolin cats be shiesty, strictly
 drunk off the Irish whiskey

 Chorus

 Verse Three: Method Man

 Rest your headpiece on this one sun
 cough up a lung
 Sleeping on my murderous type ones I get you done
 I'm looking at these cuthroat kids and how they live
 It's like we was partners in spades and you renege
 Can't fuck with no nigga like that he get me jack
 Or sent back meaning whole life ain't the bitch
 I'm looking in the half of right and roll tight
 fool me once but can't fool me twice, I'm 25
 To life on this mic device ain't nothing nice
 a mixture of long wild rice and no spice
 Inflicted, rap addicted, track I stick it, flip it
 daddy long dick-ed, slide
 A little bit beyond twisted, mind in stitches
 You thought weak but meant wicked
 Niggas choke off my second hand smoke lifted
 everyday is like my birthday I'm mad gifted, dead calm
 Hit me with the eighteen bronze, buddah palm
 About to blow like Napalm, before your arm
 Prepare for the warfare, or buy a share
 Oh what the fuck we dealing with, yeah
 Johnny about to go there
 need another year
 Bust a shot for my sons that didn't make it here

 Chorus
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Taal: Engels

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