(Feat. Ghostface Killah Action Bronson &
Termanolgy)

[Ghostface Killah]
I don’t touch that swine
I want
that unnecessary beef
You smoke garbage buds
We smoke tons of keef

Fishing, looking for that big-mouth bass
And flashing, jack your whole
stash
In fashion, keep my goons lined
In an orderly fashion
It’s
glossy with 500 horsies in the Benz
Tinted out to spend the night
You
ain’t got angel funds is low, stack
Your bitch been ho-jacked
Still
scoop her up, bring her home
And blow that, cause Ghost be mostly

Looking pretty toasty
Front row at Mayweather vs. Mosley
With the
Bin Laden bottle
A Brazilian model
Got the paparazzi jumping
Like I
hit the Lotto
Party hard, like I’m fresh
Out of the cages
I rages
like Charlie Sheen out in Vegas

You drop your pants to your ankles

At the urinal at the ballgame
I’m on the stool getting brain
From a
tall dame, cause I’m 5’8”
Shorty like 6’2”
Feed her coke, locked jaw

Like a pitbull. I was born to rep
You fucking with a hornet’s nest

Old shooters in the corner like ? said
Young boys that be handling the
rock
Chris Paul dish off, hammer in the sock
Gold flakes in the Gold
Schlager
The ammo green XJ12, you know the old Jaguar
I got the
birchwood lacing the interior
Poppy bagels getting flavored out in Syria

Only the Fonz, best laced plates
That reach maturity, dick sucked by
Shannon Doherty
Take your temperature anally and orally
Make a batch of
? drizzle royally with oil

Hopping out the Rolly Royce
Rolls Gold
nouveau
Diamond-studded shoes, so
Flyest nigga you know
Puerto Rican
version of Scarface
Fuck with the God’s say
Disrespect, piss in your
broad’s face
Chains stay chunky like Oprah’s belly
Got the purple and
the brown:
Peanut butter and jelly
When I step up in the spot with the
rock
You’ll see the popular pop rappers
Go into their pocket and pull
out their wallet
When I click-clack, now get up on the ground
Cause
Onyx, Pete Rock, Chuck D shut em down
You know Term, I’m the kid with the
‘preme beats
Butter Pecan J Lo, kid with the mean cheeks
Boobies on my
gold fronts, iced out notebook
Making volcanos in the kitchen when the coke
cook
I rode around with all kinds of thugs
High on drugs, pissing out
tiger blood