Ghostface Killah - Tony Sigel (a.k.a. Barrel Bros.) lyrics

rate me

Yo, straight out the ghetto, I'm damn hood

I Stack-A-Dollar like a whole rack of canned goods

Baggy jeans, no Timbs, A.C.G. boots

Living in the Crack Spot, banging at Sheek Louch

The narcotics is far from garbage

Whether it's cold or it's late August

My shit is fresh cause I catch the harvest

My little cousin bubble Swatches and carry a couple oxes

Keep a duece-deuce by his ankle and get it popping

You know, we be the boys clocking the graveyard shift

Big bundles, counting our CREAM, burning the lazer spliff

My man, jumps out the whip with the A.R. fifth

And we barred from plenty of parties cause we start shit

Parole hoes, six months in the box

My little sister got her head shaved off

She made it home from shop

We selling cartons, Pampers, Similac formula

Anything it take because the paper keep calling ya

Gangstas keep balling for sure, we want more

We make it rain from the tech and wop

The Lex pouring and the precincts don't have enough cups for us

To slow us up, they hit us with dust

Then they rush, bust, my big man Ron'll break the cuffs

Three-hundred pound nigga, po-po has to fuck him up

They say that my projects shall undergo therapy

We never voted, we voting for Oprah, Obama, and Eric B.

The I'll rap niggaz that kill

Destroy shit but they able to build

Come fuck with the real

Coward, better play your part

This shit'll lace yo' heart

Get hit with a Ghostface dart

And you better live this shit to fullest

Or be ready to pull it

Or be hit with a B. Sig' bullet

The I'll rap niggaz that kill

Destroy shit but they able to build

Come fuck with the real

It's the Broad Street Bully and the Killah with no face

My mack bullets burn like tequila with no chase

My knifework like a guillotine sword cutting

Niggaz stop fronting for my Killa Beez swarm something

Bzzz, empty out the whole clip then reload

Shotgun barrel leave it smoking like a broke stove

Yeah, and I'm all about that bullshit

The casket, the hearse and the pastor in the pulpit

I kill a nigga at the drop of a dime

Just imagine what I do for a quarter

Ain't no telling what I do for a dollar

Pop a nigga right in front of his mama

Son a nigga right in front of his daughter

And I'm nothing like the father

He couldn't come from these nuts I got

Or see Baltimore suck this cock

I know most of y'all wouldn't understand

Get it... get it... understand

Yeah, some niggaz will, and some niggaz won't

Like some niggaz kill, and some niggaz don't

You'se a fake until you make it type of nigga

I'm a straight up take it type of nigga

Pistol whip a nigga 'til I break it type of nigga

I'm hard on chumps, most these dudes is fags

Put the guard on punks, push the broom up they ass

Or the knife like American meat

American Sig', it's Muslim, so I ain't feeling Bush overseas

I think with the wisdom of Malcolm, got the soul of a panther

So "By Any Means" is the anthem, you gon' have to cut me out the track

Like cancer

I can't stop, won't stop, this how we do it from Philly to Shaolin

All my niggaz swap in (Yeah nigga)

Guns imported from Dubai, wheelchairs and shitbags

Peach Snapples and pretty scapals

Renaissance, I'll stick a pick in ya gut at the chapel

Or blow a nigga for a box of Huggies

Cop killas with a box of dummies

Gummies, stuck to the project floors

Niggaz is suited up and we ready for war