Ghostface Killah
Ghostface Killah - Yapp City songtekst
Je score:
(feat. Solomon Childs, Sun God, Trife Da God) [Intro: Ghostface Killah] [church bell ringing] Yeah, yeah, we want all that shit, we'll take all that shit Sneak up on 'im right, feel me? Soon as he turn around, just yapp this nigga I got everything, youknowImean? They ain't gotta do nothing, but just search them bitches Let's go... [Ghostface Killah] Nobody move, nobody get hurt This is a stick up, I want y'all to lift y'all skirts I mean shirts, take ya hoodies off, jackets and watches Before you put ya hands on the wall, empty ya pockets Fix ya face, this a robbery, nigga, respect the juks Stop shaking, you making me nervous, I know that you shook The fuck is that sticking out from under ya foot? Move, turn ya head around, nigga, you better not look Stacks, you hiding from Tone? I'll shake, rattle ya bones You killed him! Nah, hit him with the back of the fucking chrome In the dark, yo, I do this alone That's the reason why I don't shake hands, in case I gave you a phone That's a buck fifty, long hickey, when I strike I do it quickly Creep up on my victims swiftly, make it hard for you to stick me Cuz if we shoot it out, cuz if I die tonight you coming with me Bitch-ass nigga, eat through ya chest like some fucking whiskey [Chorus: Solomon Childs] BOY! Gut him like a pig in the dark Or auction off ya bitch body parts BOY! Poison a guard dog, disarm the alarm devices Throw ya head in vicegrips (yeah) BOY! Or stick a hot blade through his heart Get to sticking niggaz for the right prices BOY! Yeah, this is priceless.. GET 'EM! [Sun God] Aiyo, I post up, packed the shotti Black mags in lobbies, with red dots, to detach the body If you a boss, why ya cash is sloppy? This a Staten Island burglar gang, ock, not no Ave could stop me I'm on the road, not no massive robbery When it come to that dough, it over flow like paper bag tsunamis I take shit, lumberjacks and Tommy's Niggaz passing out bombs like Culpepper, so I pass behind 'em My black glove, black mask, requirements Sent the order to Trife Dies', and he gon' send 'em fast, they flying in These cowards couldn't clash our lion's den That forty-four mag'll twist ya aves and the cav you flying in We hoping out cabs like Iron Men It's hard to believe how niggaz leave with no bag supplying sense Empty cuz my staff is hiring Canine dogs with felonies duck fast when firing [Chorus] [Trife Da God] Aiyo, we carry arms like a octopus Shorty's strapped with the mac inside her pocket book Blowing all lots of kush Dark tints on the V so the D's can't spot the crooks Just throw ya hands in the sky, don't try to stop the juks Face down, lay on the ground, no sudden moves Yo, then, take off his Timbs and get the work out his shoes Rip off the pockets out his shoes, make sure he come out his used I hear sirens, plus the cameras is watching, it's time to move If you lolly-gagging, word to mama, I'll body bag 'im Leave his frame riddled with holes, looking like Gotti had 'im Bragging, juked, in the wagon, laughing We slid a few blocks down, this kid was frozen With stones so we decided to yapp 'im I put the tool in his mouth, said "You don't want the action These ain't E pills, nigga, these is fuckin aspirin Bean, blast 'im, Homo' get his girl for his cash and Yo, E, go stop the whip, they 'bout to witness a slashing" (BOY!)