Trife Da God - Return of Theodore Unit lyrics

[Intro: (Trife Da God) Ghostface k**ah] (Uh what you got here, is your approach) Your approach gotta more guerilla on 'em KnowImean? Just to make it sound official (uh) Yeah.. yo.. (it's the realest n***as on this sh**, go in) [Ghostface k**ah] Left the buildin on start up, heavy n***as couldn't take the chain, it's too heavy Word to mother, I was swingin that Shaolin Style machete Now when I come through it's "What up Ghost?", my folks throwin confetti My gear is the world premiere, ox yeah, now I'm dickin down Heather Locklear Rubber Glock in the glove box, Benz drop yeah Hit the mall in Long Island, they got hens out there I'm not a s** symbol, gangsta or activist I just bubble like acid in a gla** of Cris' My pen's is Illmatic, plush robes drag across the floor Gun hand is sore from choppin the raw And when the jet land smoked up just look right under ya The aircraft carry back half of Colombia Yeah, separate the rubble Stay beatin n***as brains out with the God broke belt buckle Jewels, pay respect to my larynx My bird blew n***as away like a clarinet My hoes, they so happy I ain't married yet And I still walk down the aisle with a plastic Tec Haha.. [Interlude: Trife Da God] Uh, that's what I'm talking bout n***a That's some real words right there So you know, we just gon' keep this sh** rolling Theodore, they know how we do it Straight up and down, introducing One fourth of the squad, Wiganomics Uh, hit 'em n***a [Shawn Wigs] Yo son I smack b**hes, make 'em say "Yes, Wiggatry" Smoke out ya room like I'm cookin up hickory Dickory dock, my Glock tucked by the scrotum It's Theodore, our chips' all in, you can't hold 'em Cuz the Pips be stinky like Pepi LePew And my style's so sick, son, they call it the flu Influenza, top contender Had ya girl head-noddin leavin marks on my Swollen Member I remember them days when the Stat was my home Now we hop state to state, flyin in and out of zones Had to put down the heat, picked up the microphone Started payin off the j**elers and flossin in stones Chunky and I ain't talkin chicken noodle soup Got a V for Vendetta this year and need to recoup That two point five million'll slice a Sicillian Next year we want the whole f**in pie we makin a k**in [Interlude: Trife Da God] Uh, that's right n***a '06, bout to take us into '07 The years is ours, from here on out Theodore, straight up and down Word up, introducing next You know, acknowledge the great My muthaf**in' man J-Love [J-Love] Aiyo, I come through like a Chicago Bears linebacker Call me Brian Urlacher, straight up attack you Then I backslap you, yeah, ya n***as get flipped Son, I've never been a punk f*ggot a** idiot Get snatched in all letters, Puerto Rican b**h fetish Call me the streets, or the mixtape terrorist I get respected, like a Pride Fighter champion Out in Japan, I was ready to smash one It's real, son, I hold down my squadron Ghostface and Life scared Madison Square Garden Is the next destination hip hop preservation? Theodore Unit on an ill a** invasion Kid Crooklyn style, Premo production The greatest men walking, f** all them their a**umptions Yo, call me the king, the presence of greatness Often imitated, but you can't duplicate this [Interlude: Trife Da God] Haha, no, next up, the man who needs no introduction Muthaf**in' New York's Backbone, take it home [Trife Da God] Aiyo, I roll like a bat out of hell, something swell With the money green Balley's and the chunky gazelle's I'm an explorer like Dora, n***a, check out my aura On the block, I a**ist quarters, but I'm really a scorer Place your order, place your bets, I'll erase your set Puncture your lung and inflate your chest I keep k**as on mountain tops, plotting on housing cops While I'm in the spot, bagging up rocks, I'm counting knots I got the eye of an eagle, ride for my people These bars of life dope, and I supply you that diesel I'm a needle in the haystack, laid back in Maybach Slay phat, cuz he spray gats, try to escape that Gray slacks for, all my Compton k**as Casket fillers, armed gorillas, who bomb for skrilla Staten Island's most wanted, the backbone of the city The rapper k**ings, n***as get slapped silly, you feel me?