Ghostface Killah

Ghostface Killah - Killa Lipstick lyrics

rate me

Yeah, yeah... we gon' high to this

(The world's crazy, son yeah.. you know)

We gon' high to this (just something about her)

My girl's a killa, my girl's a killa

(You know, her bag was always heavy, everytime I been around it)

We gon' high to this (and diners, and restaurants, I don't know)

Yeah... yo...

Aiyo, I couldn't get enough from the way she smell

Was it Baby Phat, J.Lo, or straight Chanel

Her face belongs in a Luther video, Never Too Much

The way she smile, her face look pretty, though

Hands is soft, feet, no calysses

Her father owned six pallets in palaces

Laying out in New York, crush villas in Vegas

Greatest designer wear, son, she sport the latest

So I, pause the smooth talk, made her a drink

Blew her a kiss, as I sat down, she smiled and winked

Stood up, grabbed my hand, what up, slid ya boy to the bedroom

Popped the suitcase, I'm in the lead room

This check was loaded, equipped, with fifths

Porcelain handles with horse back kicks, whispered

"You know what, Ghost, I do hits" But niggas get fooled

By the sexyness, I'm a real gritty bitch

Killa Lipstick, my femme fatale, with the biscuits

A hit chick, now I'm number one on her hitlist

She killing the game, cuz she the business

Type of chick that love you to death, then leave no witness

Killa, I call you Killa cuz you slay me

Killa, you murda, mami? Ooh, you such a fucking lady

Killa, drive me half crazy, let's go half on this baby

Killa Lipstick, k-k-killa

Yeah, this white chick Everlay, she smell Downy

Had her best friend named Jade, from Rockland County

Double cokeheads who love cartoons, type chicks who eat pussy

Listen to Prince and play with they wombs

Flight attendant out of Delta Airline, get money girls

Travelled the world, only one did jail time

Jade, her father's a judge, same nigga in the O.J. case

When he tried on the glove, but uh, in this scenario, four A.M.

The bars closed, now we at it again

Drunk nigga, come out I'm popping mad shit, he's past it

Nancy Drew, drew out her purse, the blue steel ratchet

Didn't even say shit, she blasted, barrel smoking

Shot the Henny out his hand for laughing

These are my bitches, Nancy and Jade

Natural born killas be letting they guns blaze... god damn!

Look she tired of the same old basic, let's face it

This is how she wants to be laced, I'm raping it

Anywhere, I'm taking it, she loving how the gangsta flex

This is thug sex, Iking it, nasty talk

As she liking it, spanking it, she biting the sheets

She's a freak, my view from the embassy suites

Is off the beach shore, Dirty would've love you, mami

'You like it raw?' A tear drop, fucking you slow

I see your knees knock, your love is so sweet

If I switch beats, and hit you with angles, you might breathe

You know the Godbody make healthy wise seeds

You, plus a glass of weed, is all he need

You could travel so far, look, maybe book a flight to Mars

To escaping at, one forty two?

They take Jet Blue for two, into Long Beach

Rain lifted whipping the port, from when I touch

Look something nice up in the stash, hit a Dutch

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