Ghost Thing lyrics

by

Styles P


[Verse 1: Styles P]
What would you die for, n*gga, what you alive for?
You ain't got ideas, then what are you gettin' high for?
You ain't got a nest egg; what are you gettin' fly for?
Red rum when the lead come
Shot hit your knot, and they watch when your head spun
Sucker n*ggas tell when the feds come
All I know is I get bread; paint a Benz plum, Dodge peach
Spar with the devil, I need a God's reach
Yeah, I lost that one
He touch me, or I bleed, I'mma off that one
I got the DuPont, starin' at the Porsche that come
I'm in the Yukon; I don't mean the truck, I mean the mountains
Meetin' with an account
You know I smoke an ounce while I'm countin'
Buck-forty navigation routin'
f*ck the police; bricks is in the Navigator bouncin'
Slide down the I-9, five on the crime side
You ain't see that big shipment; you on the blindside
You ain't see that six dippin'; we make time fly
Still see them big bags of money in my hindsight
Tear your body up; get your mind right
Blade on your head, like I'm comin' to get your line right
Now up in the 'hood, them give me five mics
Twenty-one gun salute, nod on my fly Nikes
It's the world renowned stoner
Tell ya girl throw the car in the shop, get the loaner
Throw bricks in the sh*t, make her whip it to Daytona
Swag surf the b*tch, yeah I'm throwin' my waves on her
Snapback from Atlanta, I'm throwin' the Braves on her
She already mulin', we throwin' them K's on her
I ain't sh*t, but you soft like toilet paper
You don't want that home invasion work from the coordinator
And the n*gga to act it out
You just rap about the guns, my n*gga, I back 'em out
Ghost
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