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Ghostface Killah » 9 Milli Bros.
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	(Intro: RZA) Bob Digi, U G.O.D, Raekwon the Chef, the Inspektah Deck M.E.T.H.O.D. (Man), the B.O.B.B., straight up, Masta Killa, the Gza, the Genius.. It's the Ol' D-d-dza-za-za Diiiirty Bastard! (music starts) [ODB] Straight Up..turn it up, the headphones, turn it up..yo you here me? [Cappadonna] Wutup Toney? [Ghostface] Wsup don' don'.. [ODB] All the way up.. [Ghost]You know how we do.. [Cappa] Let's get this paper together.. [Ghost]You motherfuckin' right Pa, uh huh. [Cappa] That's right, c'mon nigga.. [ODB]That's as far as it goes? [Ghost] Sound about to go off on some real live Wu-shit, uh huh [Cappa] W-T-C [RZA] Ghost-FACE! [Ghost] Lemme give y'all the bullshit hook for y'all niggas, check it out... (Hook: Ghostface Killah) The burners in the stash, we about the cash We got females that got it like that The golden childs that bone the crowd See niggas in the place that bit my style Well I'm a singer, dancer, we bulletproof brothers Wu-Tang got the answerrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr..... Cuz if I had a chance, to do it again I will still keep the heat in my pants, uh (Ghostface Killah) Y'all be nice to the crackheads, everybody listen up I shot one of my bitches, the hoe ain't trick enough Word life to big screen Don, tapping dustbones out With starwriters like I fucked Celine Dion Stuck everything that's the god's honest beyond We airin' niggas out that's the type shit that we on Official Wu-Tang headbanger Flood your space with big waves like you didn't set an anchor (Raekwon the Chef) Yo, I drink heavy gallons of Crew, play the big part niggas got squid on the grill, selling kids Clarks Finesse notes, yo, the Guess on with the best pose Yellow swede one matching hat with the grey gun Niggas be rhymin' for nothing, then my team pull up We all throw down y'all broke niggas stay frontin' Lines come digital stupid, plus my team got 'nuff jury on, bet I'm still live and I'm coopin' Two of my silverbacks run through a pack of your wolves Front on react and sippin' Cog-i-nac so relax dude Know I'm with these cracks dude (ODB) Yo, 1, 2...Dirt McGirt! Solid tone smith with 5th shots, lick shots Leave your head like a Shaolin monk with 6 dots Brooklyn, Zoo, Zoo (Yo) Brooooklynnnnnnn....ZOO! (Yo!) (Cappadonna) It's the return of Bin Laden, grab your armor Smash pretty boy niggas, crush they karma Eat bones with alligators, roll deep, with my entourage My whole crew's fresh out the bars Diggler, AKA the Cab Driver Drop him off in the middle of fire Dirty Island, drag bodies to the murderland Knock niggas out hurtin' my hand (Method Man) I remember in the elevators when we was playin' corners Now we play the corners and the cops is stayin' on us, (uh) Staten's where the war is where the court system's running out of warrants Where TNT be jumping out the Taurus For real I can't call it you see I love Lucy cuz she Lawless Exactly like that 1-0-3-0-4 is Snitch niggas swallow your tongue Already know the island I'm from And y'all don't want no problems with them (Genius/GZA) We got a history, full of lightning victories Conceptual breakthrough it ain't no mystery Long vision, from giants in every way Rap czars, magnificent flows for every day From the East to the ville, from the West to the hills Incredible rhymes, encouraging skill From rat packs, the smallest crews were enormous They hit 'em fast, with an effortless performance MCs start fleeing in flocks Especially those that's more sensitive to heat and shock (Inspektah Deck) We grindin', down to the bone My name grounded in stone I'm Mr. Violence we loungin' with Chrome Mr. Violence we lounge in his home, hit the housing on Rome Shining like a hundred thousand in stones Move mountains with poems, got a jones for dinero 1-6-zero my songs we throwin' elbows The hoes cling, sho thing, we know kings Only dime dikes, with minds right, we choose Queens (Masta Killa) Yeah we wild like rockstars who smash guitars Yo son split his face with the toast, he ain't Ghost It's no joke iron coat rife him with the stroke One toke brains float, shot to the throat Before the smoke hit, witness the killing On the crime scene Body on the block Eyes open from the shock Of being popped in the neck Yet he still had a lit cigarette between his fingertips Danger when you step into the chamber with the master Disaster, gotta blast ya, cuz I hafta (U-God) The rat pack is back from the island of Stat' Leave you cursed off, cuz you worship the gat The first one to snap drunk off the Smirnoff Blow the bouncer's ear off, let him floss he the boss Handcuffed, to the turntables like, Wizard Theodore See it's pure, let iy rain curly ounces Bang him with the thing that hang from the trousers You don't want no drama, I'm flaming fast That nigga jumped up and did the Damon Dash (Dash..) (Gunshot)
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