Peter Rosenberg - Snake Eyes lyrics

[Intro: Ghostface Killah] Yeah, yeah Yo, yo [Verse 1: Ghostface Killah] I used to tap dance all around a ni**a jaw Too much flair, put Iron Sheik in a figure-four Two lil' ni**as hold and go and stickin' liquor stores Eeny, meeny, miny, moe, motherfu*ker, pick a door We come in gunnin', don't grapple like Chael Sonnen We hold, the cops pull us over, we laugh and rip the summons Cruise on boats, stuff our hundreds in a gold vase Found right beside, tucked in between both legs Coca, royal cigars while I'm buzzin' off a gold plate Flyin' in the Swiss Alps, bullet proof North Face Chefs that do jiu-jitsu, Wu-Tang rituals Bricks being broken on a scale being shipped to you Hairy chest Bee Gee music, you could sniff it too Scattеr and Fat Nose Larry, they can sniff Peru [Verse 2: Crimeapple] Dеsigner sh*t only the official should listen to My pockets on chicken coup, got all my opps miserable Popped up in the physical, two hundred Hispanics Now he wondering where his man went, start to stutter and panic All this bu*ter on my hands, I oughta cover the planet Rich homies hitting my line like, "You should come to the Hamptons" I just be lampin' in a Benz counting president faces But lately, one I tend to see the most is Benjamin Franklin There's no dancing, y'all retreating when we enter the function A grown man become a fetus like Benjamin bu*ton Chickens love it, wanna rub my stomach, even su*k soft dick I only bust three times during sex if I'm exhausted December you might see me in Colombia eating swordfish Summertime I got a fever, wrist and teeth frostbit A mí ni me hablen de chavo', I'm getting paper cuts Todo lo que yo estiro, pesao', you gotta weigh it up You turn up stuffed then luggage in Lithuania I pop up blunted with Rosenberg at WrestleMania [Verse 3: Jim Jones] Capo, ask Rosenberg about our very first encounter He was talking slick sh*t, that could've been his worst encounter I was fresh out the kitchen, I was still weighin', workin' counters Triple the worth of the work and I take it to the out of towners When Ghost was up in Harlem shooting "Ice Cream" for the bu*ter pecans I was up in Harlem getting rid of them bu*ter seed grams They catch a body for ten, cash two for an extra three gram By the power of Grayskull, the dust had 'em feelin' like He-Man When Barkley was at the line shooting up foul shots with a black eye I was really up in houses supplying the fiends with a crack high There's five thousand ways that you could break down a crack pot ni**as either duck or get struck by these bullets when the MAC fly Yeah, we that fly Diplomats, I'm backed by My gang, you get attacked by Boy, when he up try to act— I— uh Harlem