9 Milli Bros - Ghostface Killah/Wu-Tang Clan Producer：Metal Fingerz Bob Digi U GOD Raekwon the Chef the Inspectah Deck METHOD the BOBB Straight up Masta Killa the GZA The Genius It's the Ol' d-d-d- d-d-d- d-d-Dirty Bastard 1 2 1 2 Killa Beez turn it up The headphones turn it up yo you hear me Whattup Tony Wa*sup don-don All the way up You know how we do Let's get this paper together You motherf**kin' right Pa uh huh What's up y'all We wanna do it n**ga You know how I do Sound about to go in on some real Wu sh*t uh huh W-T-C That's right Ya know what I mean GHOST-FACE KILLAH Lemme give y'all the bullsh*t hook for y'all n**gas Check it out The burners and the stash we 'bout the cash We got females that got it like that The golden childs that bone the crowd See n**gas in the place that bit my style Well I'm a singer dancer we bulletproof brothers Wu-Tang got the answer Cause if I had a chance to do it again I will still keep the heat in my pants-uh Y'all be nice to the crackheads everybody listen up I shot one of my b**ches the ho ain't trick enough Word life to big screen Don tapping dustbones out With starwriters like I f**ked Celine Dion Stuck everything that's the god's honest beyond We airin' n**gas out that's the type sh*t that we on Official Wu-Tang headbanger Flood your space with big waves like you did in Sri Lanka I drink heavy gallons of cru play the big part N**gas got squid on the grill selling kids Clarks Finesse notes yo the Guess on with the vest pose Yellow swede one matching hat with the grey gun N**gas be rhymin' for nothing then my team pull up We all throw down y'all broke n**gas stay frontin' Lines come digital stupid plus ain't got no jewelry on Bet I'm still live and I'm coopin' Two of my silverbacks run through a pack of your wolves Front on react we're sippin' Cognac relax dude Know I'm with these cracks dude Yo 1-2 Dirt McGirt Solid tone smith with 6th shots lick shots Leave your head like a Shaolin monk with 6 dots Brooklyn Zoo Zoo Brooklyn Zoo It's the return of Bin Laden grab your armor Smash pretty boy n**gas crush their karma Eat bones with alligators roll deep with my entourage My whole crew's fresh out the bars Diggler AKA the Cab Driver Drop him off in the middle of fire Dirty Island drag bodies to the Murderland Knock n**gas out hurtin' my hand I remember in the elevator we was playin' corners Now we play the corners and the cops is stayin' on us Staten's where the war is Where the court system's running out of warrants Where TNT be jumping out the Taurus For real I can't call it You see I love Lucy cause she Lawless Exactly like that 1-0-3-0-4 is Snitch n**gas swallow your tongue Already know the island I'm from And y'all don't want no problems with them We got a history full of lightning victories Conceptual breakthrough it ain't no mystery Long vision from giants in every way Rap czars magnificent flows for every day From the East to the 'ville from the West to the hills Incredible rhymes encouraging skills From rat packs the smallest crews were enormous We hit 'em fast with an effortless performance MCs start fleeing in flocks Especially those that's more sensitive to heat and shock We grindin' down to the bone my name grounded in stone I'm Mr Violence we loungin' with chrome Mr Violence we lounge in his home hit the housing on Rome Shining like a hundred thousand in stones Move mountains with poems got a jones for dinero 1-6-zero my songs we throwin' elbows The hoes cling sho thing we know kings Only dime dikes with minds right we choose Queens Yeah we wild like rockstars who smash guitars Yo son split his face with the toast he ain't ghost It's no joke iron coat rifle with the stroke One toke brains float shot to the throat Before the smoke hit witness the killing chilling crime scene Body on the block eyes open from the shock Of being popped in the neck Yet he still held a lit cigarette between his fingers Danger when you step into the chamber with the Masta Disaster gotta blast ya cause I have to The rat pack is back from the island of Stat' Leave you cursed dust cause you worship the Gat 404

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