Ghostface Killah - Beat The Clock lyrics

rate me

Aiyo, Ghost, what's up nigga?

This "Supreme" talkin' to you and shit

You caught me all the way in Staten Island to see you

Beat the two minute and thirty seven second clock

Suprise: time started already, muthafucka

Say that shit, nigga

I'mma say it, don't get mad, y'all, I throw my darts sideways

Shoot 'em up, bang, bang, through me baby

Lovely lady, fuck the spades, drive the kid crazy

Before I go to bed, an hour later

People be talkin', I feed dolphins

My defense'll fly the coop off your mean office

My skills is a fortune, robbin' leech out a suite auction

Teach then fall off the greatest, fuck what they say

Cuz we against the abortions, and we

Lay low-oh-oh, silent those clowin' foes

Got them clothes for his new feud in the road

We them Fat Albert, spot runnin' '86 crack viles and pictures

Lookin' all suspicous, I'm out..

Aiyo, hold up! What the fuck you stop for?

(I got somethin' in my--) Nah, you can't be stoppin', g

What the fuck you ain't got -- aiyo, you buggin' and shit

Son, you gotta hurry the fuck up

Time is runnin' nigga, come! What the fuck??

I work magic out of liquor store

Give me a dollar and I turn that bitch into five

And all I need is one more, to get things started

Get retarded, and once you -- I'mma fix these artists

Take 'em one by one, tie 'em up, line 'em up

Treat 'em like a cigar, fire them niggaz up

They be up in the club, six/three tree'd up

With them young 'keds with their gear all beat up

This is how I'mma kill 'em with four lines left

Hold your breath, say my name five times it's take's practice, yo

Decap' him with sayin' my name, it's like matches, yo

It's time to fuck up on account in a house, or blow

Na-na-na-na-na, nah, nah, fuck that four-line shit

You cheatin' and shit, I ain't come here for all that

(I'm tired, though lord, what the fuck)

What you mean you tired and shit, g?

You suppose to be that nigga, nigga then show me

If you that nigga! Then show me, nigga!

I hold a mic like I'm Gail Sails

Hoppin' over chairs like O.J., my rushin' yards

Them pen, how the meter spray

Happy wife-beater day, don't touch my, cheeba hay

Get off my D-I, then go C the K's (case)

'Scuse me Mr. D.J., please play "Fish"

Or that "CherChez", live meeting, ten four, may day-may day

Callin' all cars, callin' all cars

We have an APB on Starks and Trife the God

We left the jewelry store, feelin' like we left the morgue

We was frozen, and I brought an iced out Trojan

That's for pussies whose golden, who got Toney wide open

I put my ring up to my man's waves and seen an ocean

Move like a wolf, kid, in sheep's clothing

Snatch the money bag off the milk truck and kept boating

I be potent like ibuprofen, I be coastin'

With two shotties on me, in your grimiest lobby smokin'

This muthafucka made the clock!

Mutha-- where the fuck?

Yo, you be cheatin', mutha-, you be cheatin'

That's that Staten Island, bullshit

Theodore... you know you might be a Ghost

But you ain't Houdini, muthafucka!