Trife Da God - The Drummer lyrics

[Intro: sample (Ghostface k**ah)] I don't want the horns, blowing.. I don't want the strings to play a melody... (yeah, it's hip hop, it's hip hop The mic needs to be a little bit more crystal) I don't want to hear the good time is coming.. Don't want to hear the voices in back of me... (youknowhatI'msaying? Cuz I'm bout to go in) I'm not gonna hear it! I don't want the drummer.. [Ghostface k**ah] Awwwww, Meth Tical, yo, you stepped on my corns and sh** Got the charm lit, bomb wrist, what type of arm is this? I seen you at the Grammy's with a triple Bar Mitz' Can I kick it? (Hell No!) That's why she got hair in her elbows and she real slow And uh, every two weeks she gotta see her P.O She's a disgrace to signs, she f** it up for Leos Method Man (Toney Starks) the most important M.C. in the whole wide world Is you and you hardly even know it, know it, know it.. [Streetlife] Watch me shock the world, move the ma**es like a landslide It's a lyrical stickup, everybody's (hands high) See the bigger, picture, I'm out for the grand prize I'm not a role player, señor, I'm the franchise [Trife Da God] Aiyo, with Trife sweatin', every bullet is life threatenin' And you could get a chest full of slugs in a slight second Yo, my nine milli' pistol's really official So you can an*lyze That like DeNiro and Billy Crystal [Ghostface k**ah] Aiyo, it's Ghost with the sky blue kufi, smashin' groupies Leavin' them fiend out, like New Jack's Pookie Every line is like ninety nine dimes Shrine Auditorium rap, aquarium's in my wall in the back [Method Man] Now that you know my name, n***as know my game If you feel me, then you know my pain I seen you rap dudes done stole my slang, try'nna hold my fame Ain't even strong enough to hold my thang Wanna flow, f** with me though, baby, I'mma try'nna see dough My squad got them caught in the yard screamin' for C.O Every time we blow, it raise the prize on the padrico Ya'll n***as shoot your guns like Shaq shootin' a free throw [Trife Da God] Spark the fluid, hop out and park the Buick I got fiends blowin' C.R.E.A.M. like Martha Stewart We on that up north jail sh**, harder than steel chips Ya'll n***as better bail quick, before you inhale clips [Streetlife] Ya'll better get low, before I let the Tec blow Streetlife, I'mma try'nna get more dollars than Creflo The whole hood echoes, every time my nine let go Get out of line or steal your life like a klepto [Ghostface k**ah] When Biggie died, they came out with Biggie fries Big biscuits got me over, in the streets wide Prada gloves, layin' for thugs, prayin' Drop a bronco buster, G-37 on the rap patient [Method Man] I'mma be the sh** this summer in that H2 Hummer now Mami gotta Goya bean a** ay caramba, now Eh boy el loco, oh no, I ain't Yoko My hoes, I keep 'em lookin' good, right, but no dough [Outro: sample] I don't want no horns blowing.. I don't want the -- I don't want the drummer.. I don't want the -- I don't want the drummer..