Lyrics from thetrailersbox GHOSTFACE KILLAH One Lyrics, singer by GHOSTFACE KILLAH

[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

Aiyyo, we at the weedgate, waitin for Jake
We want eight ravioli bags, two thirsty villians yelling bellyaches { 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
The branches in my weed be the vein { one }
Swimsuit issue, darts sent truly from the heart, boo, I miss you
See daddy rock a wristful { one }
Moder-en slave God, graveyard spells, fog your goggles
Layin like needles in the hospital { one }
Five steps to conquer, Ax Vernon debt, big ass whistle
Ziploc your ear, here thistle { one }

[T.M.F. – both]
To my real bitches take your drawers 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 }

Aiyyo, 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 }

Aiyyo, crash thru, break the glass, Tony with the goalie mask
That’s the pass, heavy ice Roley layin on the dash { one }
Love the grass, cauliflower hurtin when I dumped the trash
Sour mash surgeon, heavy glass up at the Wally bash { one }
Sunsplash, autograph blessin with your name slashed
Backdraft, four-pounders screamin with the pearly hats { one }
Children fix the contrast as the sound clashes
Mrs. Dash, sprinkle wit her icicle eyelash { one }
Ask Cap or Pendergrass for backstage passes
Special guest, no more Johnny Blaze, Johnny Mattress { one }
Acrobat, run up on that Love Jones actress
Distract the cat while I’m high sugar get a crack at this { one }
Dickin down Oprah, jumprope, David Dinkins
Watch the Black mayor of DC, hit them open
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
Castor Troy layin for Travolta { one }
Yo, switch the lingo, five-nine-seventy
God glow, seven-fifteen, fall be heavenly { one }

Aiyyo, 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), &lt Big Trife&gt ]
Aiyyo, 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?) &lt Shaolin, Staple-town, B&gt
How many nuts you might bust? { one }
Haha, straight up and down
&lt Staple drop a nigga, yo&gt { one }
(How many shots?) { one }
&lt Gunnin for the dome and it only takes…&gt { one }
(That’s it) Word up
How many cakes we bake, y’all? { one }
(Yo, yo, yo) &lt How many L’s we smoke?&gt { one }
(Aw shit, haha) &lt …at a time, nigga?&gt { one }
&lt At a time, you know how we do, at a time…&gt { one }



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