Murder Goons

Lyrics

[Intro: Ghostface Killah] Yeah, testing one-two, one-two Testing, one-two, yeah One-two [Verse 1: Ghostface Killah] I've lived the life of Sonny Carson Favorite slacks was the baby blue knitted sharkskins Custom made like the Ace Of Spade Switching robes when I leave the forum In the sleeve is a classic date Russian cut (Uh), mustard handle (Yeah) 'Bout the same size of little Tyshaun with his Nikes on Still blamp you, vamp you, throwing homo's out they sandals Leave your brain all chunky, like I'm advertising soup from Campbell's Bow-legged old men give me props All I do is buy 'em a bottle, hit 'em off like, "Peace, Pops!" "Fishscale got the streets hot All you gotta do is go on the road with Dipset, Rae, and D-Block And that's how we take New York back" (Yeah) Flex and the Pitbulls, Heavy Hitters, Kay Slay, Absolut Camillo, Lantern – load the wax up, cock and shoot Cipha Sounds, DJ Clue, Envy – next, Staten be the scoop [Chorus: Ghostface Killah] We them brick flippin' niggas with cash-rule – relax, duke Doctor bills, funerals – that's what cash do (Blah) Come around here fronting, we'll splash you Staten Island murder goons, cousin, we'll scratch you (Yo) [Verse 2: Ghostface Killah] Heard some of ya'll singing like Lou Rawls Try to fuck me—you gon' suffer from blue balls Tone's a karate champ, shottie champ You period niggas be spottin' with bad cramps Intestines looking like chitlins All we need is hot sauce – my pork eaters, go and get rid of 'em Kites and death threats, ya'll keep sending 'em For every dart you throw, my last one's killing 'em Like cancer patients, in the process, losing they hair You'll be fighting for life, scratching and gagging Panicking, gasping for air Suffocating from no-wind syndrome like somebody cut the neck of a deer It's algebra in the third Alfalfa with the gun to the Rascals Jessica Alba is one of my burns Plus AlkaSeltzer's blowing up birds Out to melt your brain cells like alien herb [Chorus: Ghostface Killah] We them brick flippin' niggas with cash-rule (Ooh) – relax, duke Doctor bills, funerals – that's what cash do (Blah) Come around here fronting, we'll splash you Staten Island murder goons, cousin, we'll scratch you [Verse 3: Ghostface Killah] Get lost in my hood, it's like you lost in Elmira (Mira) You might get poked up, smoked up, throat cut Rocking them little fly chains, get yoked up Ya'll Boar's Head niggas, ya'll just cold cuts Victims of night time street horror, going home with casualties The twelve gauge blew off half of ya' knee That's what happens in war (What?) When the hyenas don't eat, we creep Our stomach growls loud so we don't sleep, tote heat Won't speak, (We them) we them grill niggas, we smoke beef