Biscuits lyrics

by

RZA


[Intro: Ghostface Killah]
Yo... who the f*ck brought me this chocolate sh*t, man?
I said a banana nutrament, man
Ya'll heard what the f*ck I said... I gave you the...
I wrote it on the f*ckin' paper, man!
Y'all muthaf*ckas always f*ckin' around and forgettin' something and sh*t
Smart dumb n*ggas and sh*t, runnin' around here and sh*t
Y'all n*ggas need to wisen up, man, yo..
Get off that special ed sh*t though, man...

[Ghostface Killah]
I said Big O, hydro-face, pass me the sazon, it's on
There go son, tap out the hash bone
Half moon, he rock, three's fourth quarter length
No jewels, no rocks, it's not worth the spotlight
His gun tool, was a half a hill
That's a six digit slip behind five sticks, eatin' steel, f*ck him
We gon' -- we gon' get our money
If he front, they gon' read about the rocks in his tummy
Mouth was red, socks was bloody, f*ck all the talkin'
Safety off and sh*t, crept up, "What up money? Freeze!"
Don't move, turn around, act like James Brown
And get down! Get slapped with the pi-dound
Wasn't you the same clown? Uptown, yappin'
I keep big Shirley on my side, so What's Happenin'?
Try eatin' these shells, they non-fattening
After you digest that, I'mma stomp you bast*rds
So take that.. blaow, blaow! Ghost, he still breathing
Blaow, blaow! Anything after that it don't matter
Your homies and your close relatives
Even them nosy ass pigs'll get splattered
It's the T-H-E-O-D-O-R-E, send me to Iraq I come back with don heat
Teeth, less than a week, they be callin' me
Chief of Defense, cuz I sure do cook when it's beef
[Hook: Ghostface Killah]
Yo, what up? Meet, these, O.G.'s, po' thieves and
Baller' sh*t, long biscuits
f*ck around, take all your sh*t
Call your bluff, y'all faggots don't want no beef
Grind your teeth, and just, roll with it, don't risk it
f*ck around, and be a statistic

[Trife]
Yo, yo, n*ggas ask why I use my Glock
Cuz it's 2003, muthaf*cka, I refuse to box
I'm true to block, strip you for your shoes and socks
Remove your watch, yo I'mma have to lose your top
I'm from a place where junkheads and zombies dwell
And n*ggas keep they heat blazin' like Bonzi Wells
Don't ever talk to a n*gga like I'm one of your kids
Cuz I'll c*ck back the mac and pop one in your ribs
So homeboy, keep runnin' your jibs, I'mma run in your crib
Pistol whip you right in front of your wiz
My n*gga, that's how it is, I get it, just how I live
Cuz me without a gun, is like Queens without the bridge
Classic cut, this is how a O.G. live
Lamp in village, and still get heard with no spins
This is Trife Diesel, New York's backbone, back home
Black blown, it's Theodore, n*gga, f*ck your wack stones
[Hook 2X]

[Outro: Ghostface Killah]
That's right, it's real!
It's that muthaf*ckin' Theodore Unit
Nahwhatimean? Staten Island, live sh*t, y'all
Straight up and down, nothin' but that cutthroat sh*t
Blowin' n*ggas back home, you know what I mean?
I don't give a f*ck... we could take it there
Whatever, hits? We got 'em, n*gga!
Yeah, now I'mma strangle the game!
No doubt, it's real right now, muthaf*cka
Y'all n*ggas done done it, f*ck y'all yeah
I'mma get the f*ck outta this booth
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