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GHOSTFACE KILLAH
SUPREME CLIENTELE |
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One
[Intro: Ghostface, (Big Trife)]
Yo, yeah {";New Ghostface!";}
Yeah, to glorious days {";one";}
Yeah God, check it out y'all
We back, yes yes y'all {";one";}
(Fake roller derbies)
Yeah, masked avengers
We're here to sharpen your sword {";one";}
All praises due to T.M.F., Wu-Tang Clan
Scream on it, Ghost
[Ghostface]
Eh yo, we at the weedgate, waitin for Jake
We want eight ravioli bags, two thirsty villians yelling belly aches {";one";}
Heavyweight rhyme writers hittin the grass
Stash the right bitch, pull out his kite from this white bitch {";one";}
Talkin bout, ";Dear Ghost, you the only nigga I know
like when the cops come, you never hide your toast"; {";one";}
Guests started mashing, CVL, Ice Water battlion
Past tense place to gold caskets {";one";}
Dru Hill bitches, specialist loungin at the mosk
Suede cufy, Rabbi come dig up a dentist {";one";}
Rhymes is made of garlic, never in the target
when the NARC's hit, rumor is you might start to spit {";one";}
You nice Lord, sweet daddy Grace, wind lifted
on the dancefloor, mangos is free followed by Ghost {";one";}
Dug behind monument cakes, we never half-baked
Alaskan, cess-capade, pushin new court dates {";one";}
Trauma, hands is like candy canes, lay my balls on ice
Branches in my weed be the vein {";one";}
Swimsuit issue, darts sent truly from the heart, boo, I miss you
See that he rock a wrist, dude {";one";}
Moder-en slave God, graveyard spells, fog your goggles
Layin like needles in the hospital {";one";}
Five steps to concer, Ax Vernon debt, big ass whistle
Ziploc your ear, here thistle {";one";}
[T.M.F. - both]
To my real bitches take your draws off
To all my high niggas, snatch her skirt off {";one";}
Just in case she wanna play, get up in that bitch face
and tell her Ghost said, ";Take your clothes off!"; {";one";}
[Ghostface]
Eh yo, the Devil planted fear inside the black babies
Fifty cent sodas in the hood, they goin crazy {";one";}
Dead meat placed on the shelves, we eat cold cuts
Fast from the heart y'all, and GROW UP {";one";}
Eh yo, crash thru, break the glass, Tony with the goalie mask
That's the pass, heavy ice rollin, layin on the grass {";one";}
Love the grass, colliflower hurtin when I dumped the trash
Sour mad surgeon, every glass up at the Wally bash {";one";}
Sun splash, autographed lesson with your name slashed
Backdraft, four powders, screamin with the pearly hats {";one";}
Children fix the contrast as the sound clashes
Misses Dash, sprinkle wit her icsicle eye lashes {";one";}
Ask coward Pendergrass for backstage passes
Special guest, no more Johnny Blaze, Johnny Mattress {";one";}
Acrobat, run up on that Love Jones actress
Distract that cat while I'm hot sugar get a crack at this {";one";}
Dickin down Oprah, jump rope, David think he's rasta
Black man, DC hit to mocha {";one";}
Two tangerine sofa, two super soakers in the Rover
Hit the sport's bar, tell a young lady to bend over {";one";}
Meditated yoga, powder ball, dancin with the vulture
Pastor Troy layin for Travolta {";one";}
Yo, switch the lingo, five-nine-seventy
God glow, seven-fifteen, fall be heavenly {";one";}
Eh yo, the Devil planted fear inside the black babies
Fifty cent sodas in the hood, they goin crazy {";one";}
Dead meat placed on the shelves, we eat cold cuts
Fast from the heart y'all, and GROW UP {";one";}
[Outro: Ghostface, (Trey-Mack), ]
Eh yo, Wu-Tang Clan, T.M.F. in the motherfuckin joint
We all connect as {";one";}
(Aw shit, baby) Straight up and down y'all
(Staple-town, y'all) Yo, how many girls you gotta fuck, yo? {";one";}
(Ah-hah, knowI'msayin? Trey-Mack, what?)
How many nuts you might bust? {";one";}
Haha, straight up and down
{";one";}
(How many shots?) {";one";}
{";one";}
(That's it) Word up
How many cakes we bake, y'all? {";one";}
(Yo, yo, yo) {";one";}
(Aw shit, haha) <...at a time, nigga?> {";one";}
{";one";}
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