Ghostface Killah

Ghostface Killah - Yolanda's House lyrics

Ay yo I'm skinned up, Nike's is scuffed

Still buggin' earlier around four how I escaped the bust

The way I fell cracked the face of my watch

My mans chantin' me on like "Run son! Don't go up in the spot"

Jettin' through bushes and backyards, neighbors is rattin' me out

Dogs is barkin' all you hear is the car's sirens

I'm tryin' to think and toss the iron

Bomb in my sweats got me runnin' funny, you think I'm lyin'

May God strike me if he don't like me, I'm tired and I'm out of breath

The weed got me paranoid, my heart's poundin' through my chest

Tryin' to focus up and make progress

That's what I get for slingin' in them projects

Next thing you know I'm in this bitch's crib chillin'

Told her my story and like this I had her legs in the ceiling

Cookin' me fried fish sticks, hot side of them biscuits

While she doin' this, the bitch still slidin' on lipstick

Now I got the fat stomach on, she crackin' a dutch

I'm playin' with her pussy on the couch, I'm ready to fuck

Like come here miss lady wop, where you put the condom box?

She finished off the last one, oh shit I hear the cops

Handcuffs and talkies, I mashed her white Yorkie

Jettin' up the stairs, them pigs want revenge like Porky's

So I slid, hid behind the wall, opened the door

Like ooo I seen my man Meth goin' in raw

So he jumped up balls out, I hid in the closet

I'm dyin' laughin', he said "Yo Starks be quiet! "

Now let me put my drawers on, nigga what kinda dope you on?

Should've knocked before you came in the spot, Ghost you wrong

Bustin' in here on the government shit

Got this chick screamin' grabbin the sheets tryin' to cover her tits

She's asthmatic and you laughin' son

I bump my toe on the nightstand just runnin' tryin' to grab the gun

Shit's real man, you spazzin' dun

There comes a time in a man's life, he gotta toss his pack and run

You know we family like Crack and Pun

But Mr. GFK, state your business after that be one

Now can it be that you hot lord?

You did some shit on the block that the cops tryin to lock you for?

Can't believe you blowin' the spot lord

My chick is buggin', she trippin'

My dick keep slippin' out my boxer drawers

Now I'm caught up in the drug sting

Niggas is callin' my horn, police is hittin' every corner we on

Can't understand it, it's a thug thing

And in the moment of thought, I'm interrupted by Shallah Raekwon

I need my money Meth, gonna by them hundred birds

Tell Tone get at me, all them little clients want work

He know we fresh out, tell the kid meet me, matter of fact beep me

Word to mother lord, son he got me hurt

You still fuckin' shorty? I knew it

The big mouth broad that be yolkin' my balls out

Her little brother wanted two bricks

You know the nigga licks, a Maybach on twenty-six

All he do is get money, hustle, he's a dick

He told me foul shit, wild shit

That nigga wear a lot of loud shit, no that Steve Rifkind style shit

Hit me with some other talk, him in New York

They robbed the Venezuelan niggas, stabbed his son with a fork

That was Jesus' rooster's little niece, little nooses

Father's homeboy, that's the kid who gave us a boost

He gave them things on the arm, said for us to be calm

And if some beef pop off, go ahead and ring the alarm

Get this song at:  amazon.com sheetmusicplus.com

Share your thoughts

Comments