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GHOSTFACE KILLAH lyrics : "Blue Armor"

(feat. Sheek Louch)

[Intro: Ghostface Killah]


[Ghostface Killah:]

Greasy, razor blades, shots spray, military
Armor, keep blaze packed, all day, dog's day
Groundhog Day, ya'll (*##$ ^!$$%s got sweet hands, word

I know why, why? Ya'll all gay, pop off head
Get your top rocked, way across state
The pamphlet read, from seven to nine, don't hold that weight

Ya'll just bait, I'm a fisherman, I own this lake
When I catch fish, I fry 'em, to they back I flake
I smash ya'll mutha$#[email protected] like a seedless grape

And hang ^!$$%s like some ceiling fans in K-Mart plates
Feel me? Shake double earthquakes, give thanks, give shanks
Word to my momma, I cut the grass on you $#[email protected] snakes

Expose, don't tell, use a mo', round the way
Go-Go down, gone with the wind, he's a he-she
(*##$ $$# ^!$$% for sale, like Magilla

Standing in the window, with a sign, "Yes, I $#[email protected] men, though"

[Interlude: Ghostface Killah (Sheek Louch)]

Aiyo, Sheek (What up, dog?)
Stab one of them ^!$$%s, ^!$$%, word up!

[Sheek Louch:]
Aiyo, my ^!$$%s is wetted, they drunk and they trying to eat
The hammers on 'em, and they ain't out looking for meat

I'm jumping out cars, I'm giving you permanent stars
Your hardest ^!$$%, you can't compare him to ours
I'm sitting on crates, I'm missing probation dates

I'm stuck with this weight, my wifey period late
I'm hot as $#[email protected], my truck keep getting tailed
It's like every week, one of mines getting jailed

Forgetting bail, piss test failed
Got parole on us, then wanna roll on us
I'm at my momma crib sleep, who told on us?

I'm sick to death, I'm on fire in the streets
Like in Back to the Future, when the car left
Ghost'll clap for me, $#[email protected], rap for me

Yo, tell them ^!$$%s on the Island, get strapped for me
Het wet ya, and throw the stocking
On his face, like when he first met cha

[Ghostface Killah:]
Yo, me and Sheek drug heads like a bottle of Goose

I had my road dogs follow your troops
Gorilla game, African tribe, Somalian crew
With a flow so sick, my high temperature'll body the flu

Crack heads get knocked out, right in front of the school
Slap 'em Sheek, wake his $$# up, he can't even move
Cereal box is crack and ratchets, in the cocaine spot

My fiends'll box filled with [email protected]%!e head classics
Dope money, flood me rags of kush, heavy drags
Bodegas, I'm mad, my older sister Patty's a butch

Guns come out like my mother's teeth, watch how I'm throwing heat
The leg gravy be steaming over smothered beef
From eight-ball jackets to cops and robbers

My last drug run, I threw in two bricks to garbage
I wash my money in Woodlife, dunyy, sippin' on Folgers
Black jewels trucking, still come through bummy

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Thanks to guest