Ghostface k**ah and Trife da God - Biscuits lyrics

[Intro: Ghostface k**ah] Yo... who the f** brought me this chocolate sh**, man? I said a banana nutriment, man Ya'll heard the f** I said... I gave you I wrote it on the f**in' paper, man Y'all muthaf**as always f**in' around and forgettin' something and sh** Smart dumb n***as and sh**, runnin' around here and sh** Y'all n***as need to wisen up, man, yo.. Get off that special ed sh**, man [Ghostface k**ah] I said Big O, hydro-face, pa** me the sazone, it's on There go son, tap out the hash bone Half moon, he rock, three's fourth quarter length No j**els, 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** 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** all the talkin' Safety off and sh**, crept out, "What up money? Freeze!" Don't move, turn around, act like James Brown And get down! Get slapped with the p-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 gat, I'mma stomp you ba*tards 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 a** 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 Keep with the fists, cuz I sure do cook when it's beef [Hook: Ghostface k**ah] Yo, what up? Meet, these, O.G.'s, quote these and Baller' sh**, long biscuits f** around, take all your sh** Call your bluff, y'all f*ggots don't want no beef Grind your teeth, and just, roll with it, don't risk it f** around, and be a statistic [Trife] Yo, yo, n***as ask why I use my Glock Cuz it's 2003, muthaf**a, 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***as keep they heat blazin' like Bonzi Wells Don't ever talk to a n***a like I'm one of your kids Cuz I'll co*k back the mag 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***a, that's how it is, I get it, just how I live Cuz me without a gun, is like Queens without the bridge Cla**ic 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***a, f** your wack stones [Hook 2X] [Outro: Ghostface k**ah] That's right, it's real! It's that muthaf**in' Theodore Unit Nahwhatimean? Staten Island, live sh**, y'all Straight up and down, nothin' but that cutthroat sh** Blowin' n***as back home, you know what I mean? I don't give a f**... we could take it there Whatever, peace, we got him n***a Yeah, now I'mma strangle it there No doubt, it's real right now, muthaf**a Y'all n***as done done it, f** y'all yeah I'mma get the f** outta this booth