Buck 50 (feat. Cappadonna, Method Man & Redman)

Lyrics

Supreme Clientele
 Who I'm is? The phenom, them niggaz can't live
 Who I'm is? We ain't got shit, somethin got to give
 Y'all done flipped y'all wig, blacked out the crib
 Die and live for my nigs and my bad-ass kids, freeze
 *Sniff* Lookin at your ice like GEEZ!
 I'm plottin on the mousetrap, about to snatch the cheese
 I heard y'all kids is bout that, psychotherapy
 You buggin where the couch at? Wu, til they bury me
 Never tell a lie, like George with the cherry tree
 Now it's cherry pie - if it's not broke, let it be
 Ain't nuttin nice in - New York
 Stick you for your cake and your icing
 That tough talk? Don't mean nuttin when you're up North
 So keep them hands where I can see em like you want freedom
 You know that saying - if you can't join 'em, beat 'em
 And push your way in
 We ain't acrobats but we flip on occasion
 Pick the pace up, pants saggin pull your waist up
 Niggaz rentin slums usually Jacob, FOOL!
 You're like, "Dude! I don't like your fuckin attitude
 Frontin on my Clan from the Stat' when we ain't mad at you"
 Yo, yo
 Starks flippin cheesyface measly paced ofays
 Ghostface, jump out the window for a little taste
 The joopy look, my main bitches call me lazy
 Educated birds say, "Ghost you so crazy!"
 (There's no love to be found)
 Cappa' slide through with the Ghost
 Post up like paint on walls
 Drip jewels, big heat
 Ruffle inside the bubblegoose
 It's the Odd Couple
 Hollow points follow you home, Staten Island
 Playin with the big toys that make noise
 Echo in the hall, a scared voice
 Niggaz start to act choice, but Duncan Hines
 Didn't know Betty Crocker had them two nines
 Made the club moist, shattered the windows
 Dustheads runnin (yo)
 The rap kingpin bust the Black Jesus is comin
 Yo
 The words you talk, that'll be the words you walk
 Body you in the bed where the nurses are
 Put your vein out, watch me insert the dart
 Til it plagues from Bricks to the Persian Gulf
 Light circuits off, thirty-third of my brain is off
 That explains why my language off
 My gun aim and cough, y'all ain't trained to brawl
 Y'all more like in trainin bras
 Wet behind the ear, you're not prepared
 For the project flow, with extra stairs
 I pass out a vest to wear (bullets, FLYIN)
 Yo, the hard wire, startin barn fires
 Pullin mad, so you know it's me
 And your weed got more seeds than ODB
 Can't smoke witcha, watch Ghost tie rope to ya
 Def and Wu will open ya
 Eat a dick like (HUH)
 Baby shake your shit, girl you're thick like (HUH)
 Gettin' rich like
 (There's no love to be found)
 Word. it's me y'all.
 We in two-six's flirtin with bitches
 Dime plus takin pictures, how you doin baby? My name Ghost
 Don't get caught up in my chains, or the way that I speak
 Seek intelligence, slickest nigga goin since "Grease"
 Check out the grays on the side of my waves
 I grew those on Riker's Island
 Stretched out, balled up in the caves
 Pull a boot out on Jimmy Jam, text takes jam
 Silky texture, Jordan jumped up like Clyde Drexler
 All up in the parrot, nose numb, real as they come
 Biggie's Versace's, snow white rabbit
 Hands is like photographic magic, funeral love
 Movin when we hug, don't make it a habit
 Hit the gym for two weeks, come back all chiseled
 Elbows unique now, meet the new me
 Ghettofabulous, Ton' Atlas
 Zulu Nation in the 80's in front of Macy's
 I start my own chapters
 Tyco nightglow velvet pose, special effects
 High-tech armors merc you at the shows
 Supercalifragalisticexpialidocious
 Dociousaliexpifragalisticcalisuper
 Cancun, catch me in the room, eatin grouper.
 Shoe fly shoo, Wally Don Clark crew
 Fuck y'all wanna do? Crack a brew, smoke an L or two
 And flip like (HUH)
 Killin' for the whole click is sick like (HUH)
 You and your stank bitch eat a dick like (HUH)
 Baby shake your shit, girl you're thick like (HUH)
 Gettin' rich like (HUH) Yeah
 (There's no love to be found)
 

Audio Features

Song Details

Duration
04:02
Key
6
Tempo
98 BPM

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