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GHOSTFACE KILLAH lyrics : "Paisley Darts (feat. Raekwon, Sun God, Trife da God, Method Man, Cappadonna)"

[Intro: Ghostface Killah]
Yo, yo, yo, yo, yo, yeah, yo, yeah, yo


[Ghostface Killah:]
Catch me on yo' brochure with beachballs, at least three [email protected]^%s
Head wop Queens know how to work they jaws

They skintone is coffee and milk, mixed up
Ass as big as my boss' wife, stomach ripped up
Spitting liquor in they mouth, cold Moet

Captain Morgan, taking flicks, posing, holding my tech
With cowboy hats and coach bags, they party like rockstars
Bo Gary watches, just chill, they down in the shark bars

And me, gunslinger, clips, @@#! D
My fashion on, I'm rocking 'em new Rasheeds
I'ma finish ya, go in brother like Mr. Cee

You could find me $#[email protected] up like the mice in cheese
Life's a B, Bentley and big bills
Bottles, biscuits, (*##$es, blunts, bad boys bodying pit bulls

Karate, black belt and I bring booze
To big bar brawls, ball games blasting, $#[email protected] 'til my balls blue


[Raekwon:]
We like the black Yankees, old vets who sit in the rest
Thankful, counting up currency and move when it rain, pour

From every (*##$ that we bless, we hit up, automatic love
The Cuban Link ^!$$%z is the realest
My wallet walk, speak to ^!$$%z, cops, judges

We put it down, Columbian style, with three killas
Based on money, dummies'll die
It ain't funny, trying to front on mine, we get in ya mommy

Keep cool, ^!$$%, read him the rules, before he bleeding in pools
And $#[email protected] my %#@! up, and I'ma just lose
Paid a lot of paper to live here

American Gangster status, Big Brother, lemme get in ya ear
You know what time it is, crime it is
No matter what rhyme it is

We gon' stay fly, hit lye, rock diamond %#@!s (no question)
Based on a general's fist of fury
Neck, arm, money, all of that's crispy jewelry


[Sun God:]
Let me show you how I g ride, nina on both sides

Nobody riding shotgun but the four-five
^!$$%, if you won't try, I'll give ya something to regret
Throw that motha$#[email protected] semi to ya neck

Throw the other black Jimmy to ya chest
If you budge, you get stretched, nothing more, nothing less
Pay respect, I'm a element of Homicide Housing

In other words, (*##$, I'm the resident from Homicide Housing
Known for drug dealing, stack thousands
Four hundred grand in the couches, two hundred grand on the houses

At any time I could move up out this
And go and cop some %#@! up in the moutains


[Trife Da God:]
Aiyo, aiyo, you know ya boy stay fresher than produce
Timberland snow boots, collecting more CREAM than a toll booth

I grind daily, Patriotic like Tom Brady
I'm the bomb baby, cuz what I write is beyond crazy
I'm the Don with the teflon armor, good karma, mac palmer

Call me Arab Diesel cuz I'm a track bomber
Roger that, my ^!$$%z ain't got it cracked
All we do is dollar stack, get twisted like bottlecaps

While you on the block getting indicted
We island hopping, globe trotting through the friendly skies flying United
There's a party over here and everybody's invited

The headliners is Theodore and everybody's excited

[Method Man:]

$#[email protected] that, 'bout time we took it back to the block
The task force coming, I got crack in my sock
White Rock on the dinner plate, get cash, %#@! is hot

Smash whips on the Interstate, we dash on the cops
It's them dudes, drug slingers, 1-6-Ooh
Crime figure, rhyme spitter, his gun spit too

Call 'em Sex Pistols, ravishing, ^!$$%, I'm Rick Rude
And ain't many motha$#[email protected] could fit up in Rick's shoes
Man, listen, ice glisten, they love the life we living
That's a given, like football players love white women
White linen, a tight denim, that $$# look right in 'em

%#@!, I'm riding 'em, cool as Kahlua's with ice in 'em, %#@!...

[Hook: Ghostface Killah (Cappadonna)]
Aiyo, yo, yo, yo, yo, yo I pass the mic to Cap (Nah, I pass it back)
Never, son, hold that, you the master of the rap attack

So knick knack patty wack (This is how we do it black)
(Slap you with the almanac) Where actual facts is sold as facts

[Cappadonna:]
We on our grown man %#@! like Quincy Jones

Travelling across the world while we smoking the bone
We grinding, y'all ^!$$%z know what we do
We get it in with the Murderland, Chi-town too
Hit you up, something nice 'til the death of Yakub
Swagger stuck on ya face like a New Jack tool

Right back at you, yeah me and my dude Toney
We don't $#[email protected] with fake contracts and ^!$$%z that's phony
Trying to get this money, right homey
And lay back in the Riverside, just chill, relax the domepiece
Link up with a fly dime, brick and a chrome piece
Coming for that gwop, yeah ^!$$%, you got beef


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Thanks to alexandra_feaa