Ghostface Killah Metal Lungies (featuring Sheek Louch And Styles P) Lyrics

Metal Lungies (featuring Sheek Louch And Styles P) Lyrics

[Intro: sample]

World, world, world, premiere, premiere, premiere

World, world, world, premiere, premiere, premiere



[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..



[Chorus]



[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?



[Chorus]