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Metal Lungies
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Ghostface
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1
What these clown niggaz hollerin'?
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What they need to be hollerin' is, "There go Theodore"
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Put the ball down, we can't score, they pen shit to blackboards
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Make queens out of wack broads, you see us comin'?
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Fuck that fam shit, just pass off you bitch
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Crystal' Dana Dane's wrapped around your neck
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Lookin' rich, bow, you fucked up now
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See my gun, nigga? This baby got stuffed uptown
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Shouted out, made a whole safe with the pump root pounds
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My buddy, keep my gun right next to my tummy, ask the click
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Yo they spit metal lungies, detach wigs, kill flunkies off contact
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Son see, didn't your mommy tell y'all niggaz to wear clean undies?
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See y'all should have listened to her, she knew her son had a big mouth
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And some day death would occur, please for Ms. Gale's sake
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And her seeds, pass the flurry, ain't fuckin' around
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They knocked to her weave
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Uh oh, word up, this still, what you talkin' 'bout, baby?
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Real kids spit that shit
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Let's go, let's go, let's go, yo, yeah
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Me and Starks clear projects parks with our '93 shit, army coat green
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And light tan Clarks, niggaz think I'm lucky, bitches wanna fuck me
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And put me in the tub with them like I'm a rubber ducky
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I got a revolver in the pump about the size of Chucky
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I remember faces easy as I tie my laces
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Here, put the metal in your mouth like you was rockin' braces
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I spit an iron lungie, yeah I'm old school like the Iron Monkey
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My shit powerful enough to lift a fuckin' donkey
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I got heavy chrome, niggaz don't care if you live to die
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They happier than Marbury home, ya'll niggaz better kill me
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My street niggaz feel me, louch gotta eat, ends gotta meet
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The hard shit you kickin' 'bout is on beat as Tweet, this is Theodore
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D-Block, the year adore, it's son who fall with the four, four, niggaz like
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Uh oh, word up, this still, what you talkin' 'bout, baby?
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Real kids spit that shit, yeah
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Nigga, this is Ghost with Ghostface, I don't sell millions
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But I get millions from the V's who smoke base
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Somebody leavin' out with a poked face
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Tone, you burnin' to kick his teeth out and swear don't catch no case
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I'ma make you look like you smoke taste and we don't leave no trace
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These rap niggaz swear that they so safe
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I don't wanna talk to you holmes, I don't communicate
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My guns, they in my hand, one in my palm
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And I could dial your number like a smile off the face
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With the H.K. 9, I'm the all black hummer
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Metal lungies spit the grungiest shit
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Hungriest shit, seventeen dummies a clip
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Tell them rap niggaz to suck my dick, fuck the industry
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And shift, shut down the store, bust my shit
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I got some hustlin' ass niggaz that'll pump my bricks
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And some dust head niggaz that'll dump my clips, what?
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Uh oh, word up, this still, what you talkin' 'bout, baby?
52
Real kids spit that shit
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