Ghostface Killah Feat Raekwon The Chef Motherless Child Lyrics

Motherless Child Lyrics

[Sometimes I feel... like a motherless child]

(Yo yo guzzlin forties, let's get it on fella, no doubt)

The wiley Wu-Tang comes back, Iron Man strikes back

(Lou Diamonds, Tony Starks) Raid your whole empire

No doubt!



[Verse One: Raekwon the Chef]

Rich man, poor man, read the headlines

Nigga getting murdered for spot and bigger dimes

Jobs and drug wars

Living by gun law

Jailcats come home and want to take yours

As the young one, growing up broke me and my people

as the self, huh, I guess we all in the same boat

Think it, plus drinkin that 90-proof

Playin' on the roof sayin'

we need a next man to shoot...



[Sometimes I feel, like a motherless child...]



[Verse Two: Ghostface Killah]

Yo, I know a rich kid, who got hit for three bricks

Showin off his 850 plus, what a nice whip

Young blood guzzlin' fourties hussled in a rain

Old Earth, shootin' dope in her veins 

He never had it all, the kid loved basketball

Had a favorite song, "I Miss You" written by Aaron Hall

Now back to the original, neighborhood, criminals

Clocking dollars, by the hour like his digital

Styrofoam silencers, he rolled around with the

Wildest niggaz peeling caps known as the Islanders

from Staten, where crazy clips be clappin

Slept in his principal spreads, threads, made of satin

Labeled as the cow he had crazy beef

Seen him at the flicks, he pulled out on Duke, Hez and Latief

But he fucked up, he shoulda kept it real and went for kill

cuz if he don't, these niggaz with black barrels will

But, shit will never calm down, one day downtown

He dropped an ounce off 

Money had slept like a nightgown

He rolled up in the Albee Square, relax like he lived in there

Two kids was beamin him, them niggaz from the movie theatre

One had all Guess on, lookin like he had a vest on

The other felly pell tucked with a firearm

Movin slow, baseball hats, crazy down low

Word life God, this bull kag nigga gotta go

Oh shit!Bookhead, just bought a 5, G headed King Tudpea

About the size of Little Maurice

We got to get up baby, no cousin, count to ten

I'm runnin in my first instance, is to return em the time is now

Warfare and pull delf

Remember me, the nigga from the UA and you pulled out

Don't move don't even flinch

Fix em up, drop the head, don't want to get blood in the tux

He burped, I shot him, bitch screamed out I'm robbin him

Had to hit him ten more times make sure I got him

Told the owner lay on the floor, shake the comedy

Randy came out wacked out with a half a shotty

I laughed, grab the King Tud head and the cash

Then he shot my man in the ass and broke mega glass

Damn, had to go out with a blast

I shot my way up out of the Albee fast

[Sometimes I feel, like a motherless child]

Oh shit, what the fuck?

This shit is horrible.