[Ghostface Killah] What these clown niggaz hollerin'? What they need to be hollerin', is "There go Theodore!" Put the ball down, we can't score They pen shit to blackboards, make queens out of wack broads You see us comin'? Fuck that Fam shit, just pass off, you bitch Crystal' Dana Dane's wrapped around your neck Lookin' rich, baow, you fucked up now See my gun, nigga? This baby got stuffed uptown Shouted out, made a whole safe with the pump root pounds My buddy, keep my gun, right next to my tummy Ask the click, yo, they spit metal lungies Detach wigs, kill flunkies off contact, sonsee Didn't mommy tell y'all niggaz to wear clean undies? See y'all should of listened to her She knew her son had a big mouth, and some day death would accur Please for Ms. Gale's sake, and her seeds Pass the flurry, ain't fuckin' around, they knocked to her weave
[Chorus: Ghostface Killah] Uh-oh... (word up) This still... (what you talkin' bout, baby?) Real kids spit that shit..
[Sheek Louch] Let's go, let's go, let's go, yo, yeah Me and Starks clear projects parks With our '93 shit, army coat green and light tan Clarks Niggaz think I'm lucky, bitches wanna fuck me And put me in the tub with them like I'm a rubber ducky I got a revolver in the pump about the size of Chucky I remember faces easy as I tie my laces Here, put the metal in your mouth, like you was rockin' braces I spit an iron lungie, yeah, I'm old school like the Iron Monkey My shit powerful enough to lift a fuckin' donkey I got heavy chrome, niggaz don't care if you live to die They happier than Marbury home Ya'll niggaz better kill me, my street niggaz feel me Louch gotta eat, ends gotta meet The hard shit you kickin' bout is on beat as Tweet This is Theodore, D-Block, the year adore It's son who fall, with the four-four, niggaz like..
[Styles P.] Yeah... nigga this is Ghost with Ghostface I don't sell millions but I get millions from the fiends that smoke base Somebody leavin' out with a poked face Tone, you burnin' to kick his teeth out, and sware don't catch no case I'mma make you look like you smoke base, and we don't leave no trace These rap niggaz swear that they so safe I don't wanna talk to you homes, I don't communicate My guns be in my hand, one in my palm And I could dial your number, knock the smile off your face With the H.K. 9, I'm the all black hummer Metal lungies'll spit the grungiest shit Hungriest shit, seventeen dummies a clip Tell them rap niggaz to suck my dick, fuck the industry If shit shut down I still bust my shit, I got some hustlin' ass niggaz that'll pump my bricks And some dust head niggaz that'll dump my clips, what?